A Lace Log

So, lace takes a long time to make. You may or may not be aware of this. Certainly if you've gone through the effort of making lace, you know, but to those on the outside, it may not be so obvious. It might take a bit longer because it's more complicated, you think, but surely I must be exaggerating.

Oh, my sweet summer crafter. How wrong you are.

Let's go through the process of making a shawl. Like, for example, the Frosty Apples Shawlette that I shared a progress report on a few weeks ago. It's a full-sized shawl, but the crescent shape makes for less surface area than an equivalent triangle shawl or circle shawl. It'll be fine. 

You begin. Seven stitches to cast on. Child's play. The rows at first go by like lightning: plain stockinette with only a handful of stitches per row. Sure, you're increasing, but the 20, 30, 50 row marks fly by. You feel like you're making great time. You do a few calculations to see how many rows you need before you can get to the real lace bit.... 120 rows? Well, that's a lot, but it is thin yarn. It's probably fine, you're halfway there already!

Except you're not. You're never halfway there when you think you are.

By the time you actually get to the start of the lace pattern, there are almost 250 stitches per row. 250 tiny stitches to make before you get to turn that work. And you haven't even gotten to the hard part yet. But it's fine. It's just lace, you can handle a few simple yarn overs and decreases. The backside is even plain purling, save for the edges! You have to slow down a bit to read the chart as you go, but it's not so bad. There are only 75 rows left for the entire project, and you already did 120. You put a life line in just in case.

Maybe you're a fast knitter. Maybe yarn overs and decreases come as quickly to you as knits and purls. That's all well and good, but you start to get a strange sinking feeling that this pattern is determined to wreck your workflow. Because the next thing you see on your chart are the beads.

You're forced to rummage around in your craft bag for a crochet hook that's small enough to take a bead while still having a head that's visible to the human eye. You can't fathom what peculiar brand of insanity might compel a crocheter to actually use one of these things for a full project, but you're grateful at least that they're made, because no way were you going to count out and pre-string every single bead you needed for this shawl. Beaded stitches must be handled with care. Put them on the hook, slide the bead on, and replace the stitch on your needle without twisting it or dropping it. You drop it. Dammit.

Well, that's the other thing you suppose these tiny crochet hooks are good for: fixing your mistakes.

You continue on like this for a while, chugging along the non-beaded rows and paying extra care to the beaded ones. After a few tries, you think you've gotten the hang of the beads. They're not so bad, really, when you get to know them. The rows are still getting longer all the while, but you're pretty sure that you can handle it. At this point, what's another stitch added to 300? You turn the page to the final chart, feeling a sense of accomplishment at all you've done so far.

Then you see them. The nupps.

If you're like me, you know what nupps are, but you've never made one. Google is your friend, and in theory they're not that hard. In reality, they are evil incarnate. You try first the traditional way, making far more yarn overs at once than is really advisable, and purling them all together on the back row. This quickly breaks your very spirit, your will to fight. There are dozens of them, maybe hundreds in this pattern. You don't think your poor heart can take it. You consider just forgoing the nupps entirely in place of beads (they seem so tame now), but since you've already used beads, you know they won't stand out. This shawl is supposed to be special, and you really like how all the sample photos look. But can you bring yourself to endure that sort of extended, self-inflicted torture for 30 more rows?

You search desperately for alternatives, and come up with one saving grace. A method for making nupps with a crochet hook that confines the little monstrosities to a single row. No more purling 9 together for you. It's far from a pleasant time getting out the crochet hook again, but you figure it's the lesser of two evils. Your progress slows to a crawl. The bind off taunts you, so few rows away and yet so far. Centimeter by centimeter, you make your way forward until you purl that final row. Better put in another lifeline at this point, because you have to do a crochet bind off, and you know it's not going to be right the first time. Whyever would you get it right the first time? That would be too easy.

But after about half a dozen false starts, you get the hang of it, and thank goodness you only have to bind off once. Break the thread and you get your first and final real gift of this pattern: a mere two blissful ends to weave in. Colorwork can go suck a lemon, you've got this.

And finally, you're done! You spread out your shawl to admire your work:

Wait. That's not what the pictures for the pattern looked like. This is all scrunchy, you can barely see what the design is supposed to be. Did you do something wrong? You thought you followed the directions perfectly. (Well, except for that time you realized you messed up eight rows ago and decided to just leave it in instead of spending two hours fixing the mistake. Or that other time you did the same thing. Or...)

No my friend, you haven't made some mystery error. This is the final blow the project will deal to your will to live before you vanquish it. For you see, lace looks terrible until it's blocked.

Blocking isn't so bad, you think. You just get the thing wet and pin the important areas to a blocking pad. And you'd be right about that. But you see, with a lace design like this one, there are a lot of important bits that have to be individually pinned. Each pattern repeat becomes a set of points which have to be outlined. You're not sure quite how many repeats there are, but the memory of agonizingly long rows towards the end give you a pretty good idea. And just to put icing on the cake, your set of blocking pads isn't quite big enough to lay out the entire shawl. Of course.

Still, you manage to find a configuration that covers most of the important stuff. You lay it out, sticking hundreds of pins in the thing in an effort to force it into the shape you want. Your hands smell like wet wool, and it's probably about midnight by now. All that's left to do is go to sleep and hope for the best.

At this point, you're probably seriously questioning the life choices of everyone who has made more than one lace shawl. The first time was nearly enough to break you. Your eyes are chronically tired from all the finicky little stitches you have to look at, and your hands have cramped up more times than you can count. You'd have finished half a dozen worsted weight shawls in the same time. This couldn't possibly be worth it.

The next morning, you wake up and wander over to your blocking setup, which is probably blocking access to a door to somewhere important. Your family member/roommate/pet is standing indignantly in front of it, confused and/or annoyed at the interruption to their daily routine. You take out all the pins, grumbling as you ask yourself whether it was really necessary to use this many. Probably not, you think. This whole project probably wasn't necessary. Still, you're here now, and you finally get to pick up the finished, fully blocked shawl to get your first good look at it.

...Oh.

Wow.

The photos on your computer really didn't do it justice, did they? Up close, you can see every stitch, every intricate detail. Light filters through the fabric, giving it almost an etherial quality. You try it on, and it's light as a feather, beads giving it just enough weight to drape gracefully down your back. Even if it's a little vain to say, you feel like you've really created something beautiful.

You try to take photos of it, because you want to share the accomplishment with your friends and family. Finding a place to drape it in its full glory is a challenge.

Ah, but just like the photos online, a static image just isn't enough to do it justice. You try to capture it in closeups, but to no avail.

Pretty, yes, but not as pretty as it is in person. You feel like nothing short of a professional photographer will be able to capture it in its full glory, so you settle for sending these pictures to your friends and revel in the real thing yourself. After all the time, all the frustration and mistakes, you've done it. It was so much more work than you'd imagined at the start, and you thought about giving up more than once. But maybe it was worth it in the end after all.

You start planning your next lace project.

Stamp Style

Wow, this was a busy weekend for me! I almost forgot to put something up here, but fortunately I have a backlog of projects to share with you. This one is a continuation of my latest craft acquisition: linoleum block printing!

The first project I did was on an actual linoleum block, but you can also carve softer, rubbery blocks with the same tools and techniques. I figured I'd try my hand at both to see what I liked better. I couldn't think of a good use for another big standalone print, though, so I went in the opposite direction size-wise.

Stamps! They're so fun, you can put them on whatever you want. Make a store-bought card more personal! Decorate your notebook pages! Heck, just stamp things indiscriminately because you feel like it! Okay, maybe stick to things that are your property. Some people might not like stamps quite so much.

Regardless, I know I'll be finding every excuse I can to use these little guys. They're even cuter in color! (And forgive the terrible scan. I thought it would be better than phone photos, but no such luck.)

There's not much else to say about these guys. They're cute. They're woodland themed. There's a random monster stuck in there, because why not? Rather than ramble on, I think I'll go and stamp some more things. Stay crafty, everyone!

Back to Lace

You all know I can't stay away from lace for too long, right? It's so pretty and delicate and interesting to look at... I might be in love. Which is good, because I have at least five lace/fingering weight projects lined up, and plenty more on the wishlist.

The only problem with lace is the time it takes to make. So many stitches to make! Which means that if I want a lace item for a particular event, I really have to start early. As it happens, just such an event will be happening this spring.

I'm not going to share details because it would give away my location (and I'm not keen on letting everyone who can access a webpage know where I live), but come late spring, I'll need a yellow shawl or other accessory. I don't happen to own many yellow things, so I sensed a prime opportunity coming my way. I could certainly make myself a yellow shawl, couldn't I?

I knew I had to start as soon as possible, so shortly after New Year's, I found a pattern and got to work. There are a whole host of lovely shawl patterns to be found online, and after some deliberation, I went with the Frosty Apples Shawlette by Lyubov Shalnaya. I've never made a crescent shawl before, so I thought this might be a good introduction. Some new techniques, some beading, lots of pictures and charts to direct me. Here's my progress so far!

These top-down shawls start out so tiny!

But it gets wide pretty quickly! Took me quite a while to get to the end of the plain stockinette section.

Pro-tip: always use lifelines. Seriously, I put this in before I started the lace pattern and was almost immediately rewarded, as I messed up the first lace row and was able to rip back with no trouble whatsoever.

There are two lace charts in this pattern: the border and the edge. The border is the transition between the stockinette base and the edge lace, and as of right now, that's the part I have finished.

Lace doesn't look like too much when it's all scrunched up like this, but you can sort of get a feel for the pattern's shape (if you squint). It's almost magical when it all blocks out! But that's a ways away still.

I'm determined to get this project done with time to spare, so expect to see it again soon! Until next time!

Pattern Review: Arzote Top

It's finished! I've been working on this project on and off since July, and I'm finally done. So now you all get to see it!

In my endeavor to learn knitting faster than the average bear, I decided to take on a sweater six months in. Definitely not the craziest crafty thing I've dived into, but a sweater is still a big project. I had some dark green and multicolored yarn that I was itching to use for a garment, and they seemed like the perfect combination for a nice, simple striped sweater (cue Spongebob music).

One problem: I didn't have quite enough. I was short maybe a hundred yards. I would've just gotten another skein, but the yarn was a gift from over a year ago: no way the same dye lot would still be in stock. It seemed like the universe's goal was to thwart my plans! I was going to give up and search for another project, but I came across a lucky find in pattern form: Arzote by Berroco. It seemed like a pretty standard sweater... until you got to the short sleeves. I calculated my yardage and decided that I would indeed have enough yarn to make a striped, short-sleeved sweater.

I double-checked.

Yup, still enough.

As is tradition for first sweater (or almost-sweater) projects, I made my fair share of mistakes. One which I still can quite figure out ended up with me having a dozen mystery stitches on the front half of the shirt, with no evidence of mistaken increases in the fabric. I can only imagine that I missed decreases somewhere, though where exactly still escapes me. Fortunately, blocking hides a multitude of sins, and in my opinion, the top turned out pretty darn well! I blocked it straight onto Mannie Quinn in order to get the fit right.

All in all, it turned out well! I love these two yarns together: the colors work nicely off of one another. And despite my stitch counting mishap, the shirt fits well too! It's deceptively heavy for its size, since the fabric is so thick, but the yarns have lots of cotton and synthetic content in addition to wool, so it's not nearly as hot as it might seem. I'm looking forward to warmer months so that I can really show it off!

As for the pattern, I have a number of observations. Overall, I liked it. The instructions were clear and easy to follow, and it was simple enough for a novice sweater-knitter to understand. I didn't add a pocket because I didn't want it to clash with the stripes, but the original pattern includes a breast pocket that is very cute.

On the negative side of things, I did have a few issues with blocking and fit that I'm fairly certain weren't attributable to error on my part. The first is that there seemed to be a fair amount of extra stitches in the back when doing the ribbing for the collar. This extra ribbing stuck out from the neckline at odd angles and wouldn't lay flat against the back of my neck until I really forced it to with blocking. I'm usually trying to avoid stretched collars in my clothes, so starting out with one isn't that great. The other issue I have is with the shoulder seam construction. The fabric is quite thick, being made of worsted weight yarn, and that really influences the seams. While the side seams aren't that big of a deal, it becomes rather bulky in the shoulder and armpit area, which is a tad uncomfortable. More noticeable from the outside, the thick seams and fabric don't fold and stretch on themselves very much, so the shoulders of the shirt are kind of locked in an arms-down position. When I lifted my arms over my head, the shoulder area pops up to my ears, making the entire shirt ride up. I was using the recommended weight yarn and the correct gauge for this project, so I expect that it's not just my seam job that creates this problem.

All that being said, I still like the top. It's pretty, and it fits well as long as I don't raise my arms too high (and let's be honest, they're usually down at my lap with a craft project anyway). It's got some flaws, but if you're willing to deal with them, you'll get a nice looking product!

With my first sweater-ish project out of the way, I think it's time to set my sights on a new garment! Maybe this time I'll try a full-fledged sweater. In fingering weight. With lace. That won't take a million years to complete, right? Well, I'm going to dive through my pattern books. Until next time, stay crafty!

Frankenmittens

Ahhh, it feels nice to be back on a weekly schedule. I don't know about you, but I like a steady stream of crafts in my diet. And in the winter time, those crafts are mostly suited to the cold.

To be honest, I made these mittens a few months ago in preparation for winter. I've had so much other stuff to show you, though, that I haven't gotten around to photographing them until now. These are the creations that I've affectionately christened the Frankenmittens.

...Okay, so maybe the name isn't obvious. They're not green or patchy. They don't even have a bolt sticking out of them! The reason that I call them Frankenmittens is that they're actually an amalgamation of two different patterns. I really liked the cable pattern on these Dwarven Mittens, so I started out knitting those. The only problem? Well the pattern is.... okay I'm just going to be honest here, it's kind of terrible. The instructions weren't clear at all, and even as I was trying to figure them out, they didn't look like they'd make a very nice mitten shape. The only thing that was good about it was the cable chart. I frogged the project. I should really just find another pattern.

Ohhhh but I really liked that cable chart.

So I did a stupid thing. Not a stupid thing in general, for an experienced knitter who's made enough mittens to know her way around a thumb gusset, mind you. But I am not an experienced knitter. I've knitted exactly one pair of mittens in my life. You could  count the number of knitting projects I've completed on your fingers. It would not be advisable for me personally to, say, combine two separate patterns to make my ideal mittens. But I'm not one to wait around for crafty qualifications, am I?

So I went ahead and did it. It would probably be easy for people with experience. I did not find it so easy, but I did do it! I used the base pattern from the Syänamaa Mittens that I made last winter, because I liked that pattern quite a lot back then. And I have to say, it worked really well! They're warm, they fit well, and they look nice to boot! I'm glad I took a chance making my Frankenmittens.

Return of an Old Favorite

Okay, so when I say old, I mean from a couple of months ago. This blog hasn't been around for that long yet!

This is the last of the Christmas presents I have left to share, this one for my mom (and thank goodness I won't have to think about gift-giving on that scale again for another 10 months). She actually requested the pattern specifically after seeing it from another project. Yes, once again it's the Ana Beanie!

Last time, I was using bulky yarn, but this one was crocheted tightly with worsted weight. I think it gives the hat a pleasing squishiness! And I made the faux-fur pompom myself, again at the request of mom. If you also like the fur pompom style, don't ever bother buying them from the store: it's easy and way cheaper to make your own. Five minutes, a patch of fur-fabric, and some stuffing is really all you need.

After finishing the hat, I was left with about half a skein of yarn, which was begging to be crocheted into something matching. So I drew on another previously-used pattern - the Dewey Decicowl - to whip it up. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough yarn for the button tab, but I think it looks good regardless!

Well, that just about wraps up Christmas 2018. It's been fun, but I'm excited to work on some personal projects for a while! I'm going to go back to my once-per-week schedule now, so expect this deluge of crafts to slow to a steady drip. And as always, stay crafty!

Happy New Year

Welcome 2019! To all three of you who read this blog, I hope your years will be filled with happiness! I myself am already starting this year off pretty happily, because I have a new craft!

How long has it been since I picked up a new craft? Five minutes? Ah well, there's a near-infinite supply of them to get through, so let's get started! The craft to kick off the new year is (drumroll please)... linoleum block printing!

It doesn't involve yarn or fabric. Shocking, I know. But I've always enjoyed the aesthetic of woodcuts and other relief carving techniques, and linoleum printing seemed a good place to start. Linoleum is softer than wood and doesn't have a grain, so it's easier to carve. So I got myself some tools and a bit of art-quality linoleum. The only thing left to do was to find a design to carve. But whatever could I do? I thought and thought, coming up empty handed with each Pinterest dive.

And then, inspiration conked me on the head like a giant, geodesic, LED-illuminated ball. I could make New Year's cards.

I've never sent Christmas cards, simply because I know not all of the people I'd be sending them to celebrate Christmas. But everyone I know uses the Gregorian calendar! And a new year seems like a good time to send well wishes regardless of religious observation. So I set to work.

First, I sketched out my design. I went with something relatively simple, since it would be my first ever linocut! I figured that the stars could be either separate stamps or sequins or something. Of course, this isn't exactly a reusable design, either. Ah well, let's live a little and go for it! I transferred the design onto the linoleum by rubbing the pencil marks into the linoleum with the back of a spoon.

Spoons: surprisingly useful crafting tools.

Next, I had to cut it out! For block printing, you use gouges of various sizes: I started with the smallest size and worked my way up. It was tougher to cut through than I imagined, but I managed in the end!

The pattern on the block itself is reversed, which is particularly apparent with words. But that will make the print itself come out right. Which is a good reason to draw a design on paper first, rather than directly onto the linoleum!

As you can see, the cuts don't need to be that deep. The linoleum itself is only an eight of an inch thick, after all (it's mounted onto a block for ease of use).

First print! And it looks pretty darn good for a first print. There are still some areas that need to be carved out more, but the ink stains all the pieces it makes contact with, so stray marks are easy to correct. Then, I was ready to print on cardstock! I decided to use assorted random sequins to create the stars. And the beauty of block printing is that I can make prints in a bunch of different colors! These are a few of the results.

They'll soon be on their way to friends and family across the country, and I hope they'll enjoy the handmade sentiment. It's far from perfect, but then, no new year will be perfect either! And maybe I can make another print for 2020, to show how much I'll improve!