Divergent Threads

They call it lace

I'm still not convinced.

I'm taking a weaving class at Shuttles, More on Four, where we play around with a different four harness weave structure each week.  This week's assignment was lace, specifically spot Bronson and huck.

Now, when I first started weaving, and heard you could weave lace, I got very excited.  I love knitted lace, in fact, I love most laces, and the thought of bringing the speed of weaving to lacemaking had me itching to start.  Then I wove some.

Sorry, weavers, it's just not lace.

Exhibit A:  The Spot Bronson samples on the left.  Bronson is one of the lace weaves, with its major advantage the ability to work three blocks on four harness loom.  It gives some lovely textured patterns, is easy to weave, but it's just not lace.  Its major disadvantage (to me) is that you do not have the ability to thread plainweave in a piece without giving up a pattern shaft, so you'll notice the texture goes selvedge to selvedge.  You can treadle plainweave stripes across, which I did at each end.

(For anyone interested, the warp and weft are 10/2 cotton, sett at 24 epi.  Bottom left is trompt as writ, rest are variations as the spirit moved me.)

Exhibit B:  The huck lace samples to your right.  Same sett and yarn, different threading.

Huck allows only two blocks on four shafts, but does allow you to place plainweave anywhere along the threading you like.  Here, it's just at the borders, but the point is I could have had more plainweave if I wanted.  Witness the background shawl, mostly plainweave with huck inserts strategically located. Huck comes closer to having that lacy feel, especially in some of the combinations, but it's really just interrupted (or deflected, depending on which books you read) plain weave.  Each block has a pattern shaft and a tie-down, and the lace occurs when the pattern thread floats, either warpwise (keeping the shaft while weaving the lock) or weftwise (keeping the shaft down).  Because of the floats, after each treadling block you need to change either the block or the direction of the lace, or interrupt it with plainweave, or else you end up with long floats and an unstable fabric.

Some people have trouble adjusting to weaving huck as it's threaded and woven in five thread repeats, but it worked out.  As long as I don't run out of fingers, I'm fine.

I had some problems with beat when I started these, most dramatically illustrated in the center right square.  Note to self: don't go straight from the rug loom to lace weaving without a stiff drink, some calming yoga, or at least realizing that the beat needs to relax.  But I felt like something clicked while designing and weaving the huck, and now feel ready to huckify whatever I want, with a pretty good idea of how it'll end up.  Which  for me is the point of taking the class, after all.

My apologies if this post left you lacking in laciness.  I suggest you meander over to Knitting Beyond the Hebrides, where they're hosting a Lace Symposium this week.  There are patterns, articles, opinions, and techniques galore. I do hope they keep the site up past this week -- there's way too much there to digest in just seven days.

sand & sea swatch

Here's a poorly blocked swatch of the probable patterns for the shawl.  The blocking was a rush job, complicated by the fact that, by the time I spread the swatch out on the towel and started pinning, it was already dry.  The colors are bluer in real life, and the table not so red, but I haven't figured out how to tweak images from the new camera yet.

I'm not sure I like the pooling of tans at the top right of the border.  While the occasional stripe of brown in the body should be fine, I may want to selectively edit the edging yarn to avoid what looks to me like a coffee stain.  Though if it then blended into blues again, or the body has some corresponding browns, it might be fine.

The lace itself blocked from 4 by 4 inches to over 6 by 6 inches, even with minimal effort.  I'll be bringing the swatch to knitting today to get some input on whether I should change needle sizes.  I don't want to -- the ancient size 3 needles I used for the swatch have lovely, long pointed tips that make the k4tog and k4tog tbl easy.  The drape is fine, thanks to all that silk and tencel.  It's just that the shell lace (sometimes known as fan lace, or bell lace) has all those plain stockinette patches.  Maybe it's time to look through the stitch dictionaries again.

Sand and sea

Yesterday was a wonderfully sunny day, hitting 83 in the afternoon, and Mr. Debbie took me out to lunch.  As I looked around, I could see signs of spring wardrobes everywhere: spaghetti straps, bare legs, and kicky sandals galore.  I, of course, was dressed in my usual: jeans, wool socks, and a mohair sweater.  It might be time to get the thyroid checked again...

But I did start thinking about summer, and a summer shawl.  I find I wear shawls more in the summer than any other time, especially in Colorado.  No matter how hot the day, the evenings always seem to cool off once the sun sets, and a shawl adds just the right amount of warmth.  And of course, there's the whole air-conditioning problem.  Being eternally cold, I'm always the one who gets the seat under the arctic breeze from the a.c. vents.  A shawl takes the edge off, and impresses the other dinner guests no end.

I bought the perfect fibers from Bonkers last June at Estes, and spun them up fairly fine, thinking of a shawl the whole time.  One batt was 70% merino, 30% silk, the other was 70% merino, 30% tencel. Both were in her colorway Dragonfly.  At first glance, they matched perfectly, but once I started spinning them I noticed there were a lot more tans and golds in the tencel blend than in the merino, which was mostly blues and turquoises.  Which is where I started thinking sand and sea.

The finished skeins have one ply each of merino/silk and merino/tencel.  I'm not a big fan of variegated yarns in lace, but I think this is subtle enough it won't disturb my delicate sensibilities.  I'm planning an Ocean Waves border with a shell lace body, which should suit the theme, and I'm thinking a half circle shape, one big enough to be useful but not so big as to overwhelm.  And luckily, today it's raining, with an expected high of only 48, so I've got time to curl up on the couch in my sweater and wool socks, ignore the garden chores for one more day, and swatch away. 

(Typepad does not like my new photo of the skeins, apparently, but you should be able to see the old photos here.)

The impossible takes a little longer

DONE!

All the fringes are twisted, the blanket's been washed in hot and dried on high, the fringes retrimmed (two words: rotary cutter), and the loom is free!

(Though I did end up taking Sara's advice on taking the blanket, untwisted fringes and all, to knitting on Saturday, where more than one passerby wondered aloud what in the world I was doing.  Over half of one side got twisted in the bookstore.)

Warp: hand dyed 5/2 cotton (much like softball cotton), sett at 18 epi, selvedges and stripes at 36 epi
Weft:  6/2 natural cotton, unmercerized
Pattern based on Stardust shawl in Vavmagasinet's Happy Weaving.
Blanket measured 34.5 inches wide by 46 inches long before washing, 31.5 inches wide by 40.75 inches long after washing and drying.

The shot on the right was before washing -- I included it because I think the colors are a little truer to the actual shawl, at least on my monitor.  Unfortunately, it's been cloudy and snowing for the past two days, so it's been difficult to get a decent shot.  At least I'm getting to wear my new hat.

Pure fleecy goodness

Yesterday I drove the daughter back to college, and had to stop by Black Pines Sheep on my way home, as a favor to our Sheep to Shawl team.  Why can't all my errands be like this?  Myrtle was there, of course, with this year's crop of lambs complaining about their recent weaning.  Roy was busy working on a busted pipe.  And there were fleece, tons of fleece, all of them beautiful.  One of the advantages (or maybe the problem) of browsing through Myrtle's fleece is that she has the right fleece for any project.  Most of the local shepherds focus on a single breed, but Myrtle's got everything from Karakul to Merino.  Looking for laceweight?  You've got a choice of finewools, in a rainbow of colors straight from the sheep.  Planning a tapestry?  There are Cotswold and Lincoln and Karakul galore.  Need just the right curly locks for a needlefelting project?  Take a gander at the gorgeous Wensleydale and (even better) Teeswater fleece selection. 

I managed to leave with only two fleece this time.  Such iron self-control was only possible because I had just sorted through my personal mountain of wool.  First, the fleece for Sheep to Shawl weft, the dazzling mound of white on the left. Babe is a Lincoln cross, with enough luster to shine in our pattern, enough crimp to not weigh the shawl down, and open enough to be easy to prepare on contest day.  The other one just jumped in to the car unbidden.  From a sheep named Moe, a Romeldale/CVM cross with incredible bounce and length, jet black mostly but with spontaneous spots of gorgeous grays.  I keep finding myself wandering back to visit with them, sitting down for just a quick fondle, and waking from the reverie of what this fleece will become hours later.  Please note, I did drag myself away long enough to post.

Myrtle and Roy will be traveling soon, first to Maryland Sheep and Wool in May, then to Black Sheep Gathering and Estes in June.  If you see her, give her a hug from me, and try not to drool on all the fleece.  There's a Lincoln lamb fleece that's still whispering to me from afar...

Happy Easter!

Somehow, these seemed appropriate...

Yarn: Dale Baby Ull, machine washable wool
Pattern: from Nicky Epstein's 50 Baby Booties to Knit.

Formerly pictured here.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there's some chocolate calling my name....

Progress

Still here, still tying knots.  As I'm fighting a migraine, there will be none of the deathless prose you've come to expect (hey, you in the back row, no cheering!), but some photo updates on the current projects.

First, photographic evidence that the fringe really is being knotted on the right:

As the thumb has developed enough scar tissue that knitting no longer results in copious bleeding, I've picked up the Three and One Cardigan again, and I've started the sleeves of a cabled pullover.

The yarn for the pullover is a strange one, Patons Au Naturel, which hasn't been made for a while.  It's 43% cotton, 30.5% wool, and 26.5% linen, but they're not blended, there's just one ply of each in the finished yarn.  Definitely textured, so the pullover is mostly ribbed, with a few cables to keep the knitting interesting.  I'll be very curious to see how it washes up.

The Sheep to Shawl sample scarf is finished and washed.  I didn't expect such a difference in the two sides, but there's very much a warp-dominant and a weft dominant side to it, almost like a summer and winter pattern. 

A closeup (click to really supersize it):

And finally, the obligatory hat, not at all blocked,  2/1 rib out of some Colinette thick and thin from a grab bag.  I may be wrong, but I believe it's hat #20 since the first of the year.  I really need to focus, but when I'm not sure what to knit, or don't want to think, it's very easy to grab an oddball and some needles and just knit around and around and around...

Never do the math

I finished weaving the baby blanket yesterday, and sat at the loom while the family watched Mythbusters and began twisting fringes.  (Mythbusters and The Simpsons are the only two TV shows we ever watch -- yes, we're all geeks here.)  At the end of the show, I stretched and noticed that while the twisted fringes were looking fine, there were far fewer of them than I'd expected.  Careful counting revealed that 62 ends were secured, at the end of an hour.  A blanket 36 inches wide, sett at 18 epi, doubled for the pink and purple stripes, divided by 62 ends per hour equals oh, lord, what have I gotten myself into this time?

There are other options, of course.  I could finish this blanket with a simple hem, like the last two baby blankets I've woven, but I didn't weave in a thinner header on this one, and I wanted to do something different.  I could fringe one end and hem the other, which would cut the twisting time in half, but always strikes me as unbalanced.  I could sew a binding at both ends, but then I'm likely to want to weave the binding myself, and turn a quick finish into a month-long project, which would defeat the purpose.  I could do a twined edge or Philippine ties and let the fringes hang loose, but on a baby blanket, which will frequently visit the inside of a washing machine, this seems a recipe for a mess.  Or I could forget about the math and just start twisting. 

After all, if I wanted to be efficient, I could have just bought a blanket at Wal-Mart.  How many times have I been knitting or spinning or weaving in public and been asked that question, after all?  The point is not the blanket, or the sweater, or the scarf.  What is the point, exactly?  Never do the math!

If I didn't know that there were over 28,000 stitches in the mohair and silk lace stole I knit as a barter item, would it bother me as much that the recipient (who chose the yarn) doesn't wear it because it's "too fuzzy"?  If I computed the number of stitches in every pair of socks I've knit on size 0 needles for Mr. Debbie, only to have them come back from camping trips holey and bedraggled, would I ever knit another?  If I knew the sheer man-hours spent on hats and mittens for children who have left them in every school, museum, and zoo in the state, wouldn't I succumb to acrylic throwaways from the discount store? 

In this instance, ignorance is bliss.  If I don't think about the time I spent weaving ends in on a domino hat which disappeared after the second wearing, I can happily knit along on its replacement.  If I am reminded, or have the numbers thrust in front of me, there will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth.  And I spend too much time knitting at the dentist's office as it is.

This morning, while waiting for the coffee to brew, talking to mom on the phone, and waiting for websites to load, I've knotted a bunch more ends, so that I'm finished with the outside green stripe.  Please note I have not counted them, nor do I plan to.  Maybe we'll rent Narnia tonight and another bunch of ends will be secured while we watch.  Maybe I'll get a riveting book on tape from the library and sit glued to the loom, twisting mindlessly as a plot unfolds.  Maybe my fingers will suddenly start flying like Sara Lamb's, and the fringe will be finished in no time.  Or maybe it will take just as much time as the numbers predict.  I could spend another twenty hours twisting fringe, to get the real life blanket to match the one in my head, and that's all right too.  In twenty hours, I can mentally plan out a whole bunch of projects.   But to hedge my bets, and make sure this doesn't turn into a six month job, I think I'll wind a warp for the next project, and leave it hanging nearby.  A little extra motivation never hurts.

 

Oh, well

I should know by now that it couldn't go that easily.

This is a sample for this year's Sheep to Shawl pattern.  My teammates love to torment me, though they prefer to call it stretching my limits, so they've placed this 8 shaft twill at the top of their list of possibilities for this year's shawl.  Thanks to the local guild, I've rented an 8 shaft Baby Wolf, and while I was in Boulder, picked up some yarns for a scarf-sized sample, about the grist I expect we'll be spinning in June.  Did my math Sunday, wound the warp, threaded the pattern and beamed it Monday night, and started weaving this morning.  Got about 8 inches along when I stood up to stretch and saw the problem near the bottom of the photo. 

I'm pretty sure it's a single misthreaded warp, but as I haven't decided whether to unweave what I've done so far and replace it or try to weave the new warp through the proper path and keep going, I've stopped for the day.  If it were really just a sample, I'd replace the warp, leave the mistakes in and go on, but I have a probable recipient for the scarf, and would have a really hard time giving it away with such glaring errors.

So, back to the blankie.

Project details:
8 shaft braided twill (from a project in Handwoven's Design Collection 12), floating selvedges
Warp:  Harrisville Shetland midnight blue, sett at 12 epi
Weft: Mountain Colors Bearfoot, winter sky

And Nancy will be happy to hear I've found another use for highlighter tape:

Pick a weft, any weft

The next weaving project has been threaded and beamed for almost a week, while I try to decide which weft will work.  Or rather, as any of them will work, which will give me the best blankie.  This is the part of weaving I dislike most, probably because I'm such a tightwad.  Whenever I weave a new pattern or a new fiber, it seems I have to sample.  A lot.  When I knit, I can swatch and unravel it, no waste, no worry.  When I weave, the samples are mostly throwaways.  I do what I can to reuse them, and am beginning to understand why every weaver I know has a more than ample supply of scarves and mug rugs, but it goes against the grain to put so much time and effort into the fiber equivalent of practicing scales.  Perhaps it will be a less irksome task when I can spend more time weaving projects than on the preproject sampling.

(Of course, we're also talking about someone who reuses her skein ties, so maybe it's just me.)

The greens on the loom I dyed on St. Patrick's Day, and are just what I was looking for.  All three are dilutions of MX chartreuse.  The pink and purple were dyed the weekend after that, and the pink was so bright that it was physically painful to look at when I first rinsed it, despite reducing the amount of dye I used to one fourth of what I thought was needed.  After three bleach baths, it'll do.  The purple, amazingly, behaved itself.  All three were originally from the righthand cone above.  Thank heavens for mill ends, or I'd never get anything woven. 

(While you can't see them in the picture, I dyed additional warp strands of all three colors.  I figured that out after my first painted warp, when I had "help" from the cats, a number of chewed through warps, and no way on earth to duplicate the colors I'd dyed.  Design elements.  That must be what those extra colors that got woven through half the blanket were.)

This will be a warp dominant blanket, but when I wove the samples, I could see definite differences with colored versus white or natural warps, and very different hands for them all.  The blue is a 10/2 cotton with a fairly firm twist, and didn't fill in the way the 5/2 natural warp did.  The white is a 6/2 mercerized cotton, and may win out.  It left the colors of the stripes unchanged, and had a decent hand.  The pink is a thick and thin cotton that runs about 3000 ypp, and I think it'll wait for a plainweave project.  The cushiest off the loom was the warp yarn, but I'll wait and see if it stiffens up too much after it's been washed and dried a few times. I did a few rows of  a 20/2 cotton, but decided the sett wasn't really close enough for a weft that thin. 

While mill ends don't often come labeled -- or labeled correctly -- a McMorran yarn balance and a chart like the one on Schacht's page is a great help in figuring out what to do with them.  For cottons, the first number refers to the yarn size (bigger number means a smaller  grist), and the second refers to the number of plies.  Linen is similar, while wool reverses the numbers.  When in doubt, I look it up. 

And the initial inspiration for the blanket were the Stardust scarf and shawl in Vavmagasinet's _Happy Weaving_, though I'm using cotton instead of alpaca and wool, the grists and therefore the setts don't match, the project and stripe widths are completely different, and there will be no pompons.  Otherwise, they're identical.

(Hmmm, maybe this explains why I spend so much time sampling...)