Petunia rambles on and on….

Two heels are turned on Pop’s socks. 

About an inch of ribbing done on the sweater.  At 208 stitches per round, it takes a while.  And ribbing is pretty boring.  Certainly nothing to take a picture of.  Might get a bit more interesting when it moves up into the body. 

Other than that, nothing to report.  Nothing to take a picture of.  Gonna have to work on that.

Knitting Stuff

For the longest time, the idea of designing a gansey-styled sweater has rolled around in all the empty spots in my head of which there are many and they are large.  I even forget where I first read about ganseys.  On someone’s blog, probably.  Several books that I’ve read in the last year peaked my interest further, and an appreciation of the whole concept of working without pages and pages of directions, as defined by someone else, has great appeal to me.  The “historically significant” part makes me want to try my hand(s).  Making MY sweater with MY design, as knitters have done for centuries.  Giving it if I ever get it completed to MY husband.

For the non-knitters, briefly, ganseys were designed as working-man’s sweaters, very, very tightly stitched on very fine needles to make a dense garment that will keep out the cold and wind.  They are supposed to be fairly tight/close-fitting on the body with “gussets” at the underarm to increase the mobility of the wearer without putting undue strain on that area.  They were designed to be worn and worn and worn under working conditions.  These are UTILITY garments, often made for fisherman who go out on the NORTH SEA!!!!  It is reasonable to believe that the decorative stitches came later.  Some stitch patterns cause the yarn to “draw in,”  as cabling does, and these may have been added to make the sweaters warmer?  It was probably started by bored knitters, however, going completely insane doing acres of plain stockinette stitch for a large family member.  Their creative juices surged, and perhaps, a desire to “one up” the knitter next-door.  Some traditions have emerged.  Many garments have a split ribbing at the bottom, most likely so they slide back into place after the wearer reaches upward.  Many are stockinette stitch midway up the chest, with patternwork beginning there, possibly a compromise between design interest and speed of completion.  Many have the intended wearer’s initials knitted into that low plain area.  They are worked in the round, generally do not use steeks (uh, slits cut into the knitted fabric to insert sleeves).  The patternwork is generally symmetrical, and the same on front and back.

Excel spreadsheets have become my “designing palette” and I got my ideas from many sources.   I ordered yarn in a neutral color, per Pop’s request, and started swatching.  I never intended this garment to be as dense as the traditional ones are, as my husband never intends to fish on the North Sea, and if he is ever, heaven forbid, caught in weather that desperately cold, he will either put on a coat or freeze to death.  This sweater I’m making will not save him.

You are warned, Pop.

Anything dense enough to completely keep out cold and wind simply would not be worn much in our current day and way of life.  It would be as stiff as a sheet of plywood.  I’m not doing this simply to prove that my brain and my hands are capable of the task; I’m trying to make a sweater that he’ll actually wear.  He’s thinking – on the golf course, early spring, and then into autumn, extending the time he can comfortably play, without the bulk and restriction of a winter coat.  He expects to wear it with tee-shirt and sport shirt underneath, as layers will keep him warmer.  So I’m not going to make it as dense or as close-fitting as the traditional ones. 

An Excel sheet holds my design work so far.  I’ll need to cast on 208 stitches, and join.  Well, that sounds easy, but it can drive you insane.  And I’m so nearly there now.  Luckily, I remembered a trick that Mom taught me.  It is much easier to count to 20 many times than to count to 208 once.  SO, with the use of lots of markers, at 20-stitch intervals, the task wasn’t as difficult as I first imagined.  Where the task and my language got nasty was the “join, being careful not to twist” part.  Cast-ons tend to twist around the needle; the flexible part of a circular needle, being thinner, increases the stitches’ ability to swirl about.  208 damn stitches can twist on you even when you think you’ve got a grip on the situation.  I “lost my grip” several times.  It was like dealing with a live snake.  Daughter says my swearing would not have caused a sailor to blush.  Still, the thought of not finding out whether or not there was a twist until after I had done 208 stitches worth of 2×2 rib was not making me happy.  I’m so damn proud of myself – I did get it right the first time.

See some of my many markers??   I have them every 20 stitches and 2 markers at left and rights sides.  Two rounds are done. 

Pop still better plan on ending his golf-playing early in the fall or wearing his coat.

Wee Quilt

When I was still in my “quilting phase” and had my sewing room all set up, I made quite a few small pieces that were machine-pieced but hand-quilted.  Oh, I loved the actual quilting.  It is such a soothing activity, much like knitting that way.  In truth, I much preferred hand-quilting over piecing the top.  I did almost all my work in a circular hoop, and hoped one day to get a Hinterberg floor hoop where the work can rotate 360 degrees around, tilt, etc.  There’s a beautiful quilt store in Newark (DE) called the Quilter’s Hive and they had the one I wanted on display for quite a while.  I felt like a non-custodial parent every time I left there, leaving it behind.  A son went to University nearby, I was often up that way, and made many trips into that store.

Anyway, in my rooting around over the weekend, trying to restore a small bit of order, I found this project that I made maybe 5 years ago or so.  Machine pieced, then quilted by hand.

When I was processing this photo, I realized that I had placed in on the sofa and photographed it upside-down.  Few would notice this, other than me.  The central medallion is a thistle on a stem, with branches out and up.   Oddly, here the stem is “topside” and the branches come down.  Damn.  

Sometimes, often, when I look at quilts and think about the projects I used to do, I get the urge again.   Or at least, I get the urge to sit and do the hand-quilting part (at that fancy wooden frame!).  However, I absolutely HATED the part where all the layers needed to be sandwiched together and basted.  UGH!!  My back hurts, even now, when I just think about that task.  Maybe others have some sort of fancy, easy set-up or system for this job.  (Or get some help from a quiliting guild?)  For me, it always required rolling up carpets, scrubbing the floor taping muslin down, stretching the quilt batt, evenly placing the ironed top centered on the layers, and crawling around on my hands and knees for hours and hours and seemingly days.  And then, find out that something lumped up somewhere underneath.   ARGHHH!  Once, Pop built me a “layering/basting frame” per directions I found on the internet.  It required 4 lengths of 2×4 lumber, twill tape stapled to the edge of each one, cheap measuring tapes also stapled on for centering fabrics.  The idea may have been sound, but my usage wasn’t.  Perhaps I should have started out using the method with something that was wall-hanging size.  But, no, I had a Queen size quilt in the works, one that I was clearly dreading to baste out.  I ended up with the backing apparently pulled out of square and the whole thing biased wrong.  After that, I went back to the old way.    And since I used to do this, I haven’t gotten any younger.   I’m wondering, when the space becomes available again, if I even want to get back into this sewing and quilting, and/or to what extent. 

Maybe, at this point in my life, I just want to sit on the couch like a slug.

on Pop’s socks.

It’s not that they’re difficult.  Anything but…..   He likes them plain.

It’s just that I’ve been busy doing other things.  Like damn laundry, grocery shopping, washing dishes and such.  Not interesting or fun things.  Stupid chores. 

By the time I finally sit down in the evening, I seem to get very few rounds done before I feel my eyes drooping.  Last night, I did listen to a few podcasts, an episode of Cast On (Brenda Dayne) and one from Sticks and String (David Reidy), so I must have gotten 2 hours or so of work done on this pair of socks!  (When I’m dead tired, I have no patience with the giggly silly podcasts.  I listen only to my favorites!) 

At this rate, it’ll take forever to finish the socks.