Nope. Also, Nope.

I knew that the waistband was going to be the fiddly bit of this project, since everything connects there. I just didn't know HOW fiddly.

First attempt at attaching the sash:

Nope. Despite the instruction to sew with right sides together, the sash wound up backwards to the skirt.

Okay, let's try the other side. Possibly they meant the right sight of the fabric sash should face the right side of the skirt, despite the fact that they do not touch.

Also, nope. And much worse, since sealing up the waistband would have meant completely enclosing the sash.

Excuse me while I go pick apart some seams.

Just Right

I finished my Little Something. and it was a joy from start to finish.

Bonus: it holds my little iPod. The bag's a little wide for it, but who know to what other uses I may put this Useful bag For Putting Things In.

Yarn: 30 yards of Koigu KPPPM in 527P
Needles: US 2 (2.75 mm)
Pattern: Marl Hal Cochran Davis, handwritten, unnamed

I already have something equally joy-giving on the needles:

Bumps in the Road

I have learned to make nice, neat narrow hems.

As long as they are straight. A curved narrow hem seems to be beyond my abilities, and I am casting about for alternatives.

Definitive nonsense

I was amusing myself last night while cleaning the kitchen by remembering the words to a nonsense song from my youth. Nonsense was a definite part of my childhood, with plenty of Edward Lear and Lewis Carrol, but also a goodly amount of the kind passed along by word of mouth. There’s a poem that was passed down through at least four generations of my family as an oral treasure that was never written down. The internet put an end to that fancy when we found it in A Nonsense Anthology, edited by Carolyn Wells and published in 1902¹. It was still fun to memorize and pass along to my children.

But back to last night’s song: more lines and verses came back to me each time I ran the song through my mind. Eventually, work done, I googled the lyrics. Unsurprisingly, there were multiple versions. Oral history gets mangled in repetition, and even if YOU remember the words perfectly, who’s to say the person who taught it to you did?

This morning I have been occupied, while doing chores, with thinking through why MY version is the correct one. (Which is not to say that the way you learned/remembered/sing it is not correct - for you.) I realized that the version I preferred, in every case, was the one which made no sense. If it is a thing that could happen, that explains why that version is remembered, but it cannot be authentic to the song.

Here is my preferred version, with variants and explanations in the notes below:

Jeep²

Oh, I was born one night one morn

When the whistle went boom boom.³

You can fry a cake or bake a steak⁴

When the mud pies are in bloom.

Does six and six make nine?⁵

Does ice grow on a vine?

Is Old Black Joe an Eskimo

In the good ol’ summertime?

Oh, loop-de-loop⁶ in the noodle soup

Just to give your socks a shine.

I’m a guilty judge,⁷ I ate the fudge.

Three cheers for auld lang syne!

I cannot tell a lie

I hocked⁸ an apple pie

It’s in a tree beneath the sea,

Above the deep⁹ blue sky!

If Easter eggs don’t wash¹⁰ their legs

Their children will have ducks (quack quack)

I’d rather buy a lemon pie¹¹

For forty-seven bucks (too much!)

Way down in Barcelonia

I jumped into the phonia¹²

But this is all balonia

Paderewski blow your horn (toot toot)!¹³

-----
¹Available via Project Gutenberg here, and search on “heart” - you’ll know it when you see it, family! For the rest, it’s To Marie by John Bennett.
²This is the perfect title for a song that has nothing whatsoever to do with vehicles, transportation, or the military. It is often found online as The Nonsense Song, or The Lunatic's Lullaby, which are accurate -- and therefore bad -- titles.
³“Toot toot” is a common variant, but in fact that is precisely what steam whistles do in old cartoons, and therefore cannot be correct. Also, “boom boom” preserves the rhyme scheme.
⁴Variations reverse the order of the foods, but it doesn’t matter as long as the method of cooking is ridiculous.
⁵I didn’t remember these four lines at all. “Old man Joe” is sometimes seen, but Old Black Joe, In the Good Old Summertime, and Auld Lang Syne were all well-known songs in the past.
⁶Sometimes seen as “loop the loop,” possibly a dialectal isogloss.
⁷Sometimes “I’m guilty, judge” but the above version is more nonsensical.
⁸Variations include “hooked” and “hawked,” clearly mondegreens.
⁹Also seen as “bright” and “great,” which of course make too much sense.
¹⁰“Shave” is sometimes seen, which is a bit anachronistic given the likely age of this ditty.
¹¹I remembered “lemon drop,” which destroys the internal rhyme and was clearly influenced by Another Song.
¹²I remembered “foamia,” which makes too much sense to be correct.
¹³Paderewski was a famous pianist, so blowing a horn is the proper nonsense. One version had “red rooster” as a lovely mondegreen.

Legacy Project: Mittens

With the recipient known, one nearly-finished mitten, all the remaining yarn, and access to the pattern my sister used, I thought finishing these mittens was going to be a piece of cake. Boy, was I wrong! I am enjoying the challenge of finishing these projects; this one just took longer than I expected.

For one thing, her work didn't match the chart, or number of stitches, in the pattern. And I couldn't just "read" the knitting, because she randomly slipped a stitch or knit two stitches together. I worked up a chart that semi-matched what she'd done. And since neither thumb had been done, I did what I wanted there.

It also turns out that my sister did color work in a way I don't and never have. There's probably a name for it, but I don't know what it's called: she twisted the two colors after every.single.stitch. I wound up adopting her method for the back of the mitten, but not the palm.

It took many, many attempts to match my sister's gauge. By now I have a pretty good idea what the difference between her gauge and mine is, but that color work method threw everything off.

They're not an exact match, but close enough, and the recipient will always know which one my sister made, which is no bad thing.

At Least the Cutting Out Is Done

Aren't you done yet? ask my imaginary readers. How long does it take to sew something together, anyway? Look how fast those masks went!

This vintage sewing pattern is from 1943, and like cooking recipes from that period, assumes you know what you are doing, which I do not. Case in point: no layout is suggested for the pattern pieces. Figuring it out for myself was actually kind of fun, like a jigsaw puzzle.

DH helped with the cutting. I went through four pairs of sewing shears before finally finding my left-handed pair, which at least did not torture my hand. I HATE scissors; it's a wonder I made it through kindergarten.

Carefully clipped and marked pieces, with pattern removed for maximum later confusion!

Then I spent two days adjusting the tension on the sewing machine. The first day, nothing I tried worked, and I walked away. The next day I  discovered that it wasn't the tension that was the problem, it was the bobbin threading into the machine. Got that sorted and inserted a smaller needle, and I was finally ready to go.

Bad

Acceptable

Did I mention that the instructions don't provide detailed guidance? For instance, it tells you how to assemble one half, and assumes you will know enough to go back and do the same for the other half. It has you baste down things that it never tells you to go back and actually sew down, and I don't know if I'm even supposed to.

Time to pin the first seam. I looked at it, and then pinned the seam on the other side. Stop, stop! cry my imaginary readers. You've pinned the wrong sides together on the second seam!

Nope

Yup

Ah. Early on I noticed the options for finishing seams and hated all of them. Pinking shears? See third paragraph above. I disliked the other options, although not as passionately. Fortunately my mom taught me a better option a good forty years ago. So between pinning the first seam and pinning the second - and before sewing anything - I decided French seams were the way to go. Ta-da!

That's right: I can't thread a bobbin but I can manage French seams. Are we having fun yet?

Legacy yarn: Because. Just Because.

A colorway of sock yarn I inherited from my sister spoke to me immediately as needing to be socks for a family member. I can't explain why, and I had no doubts, but it was nice to show them to other people who immediately agreed.

Needles: US 1 (2.25 mm)
Yarn: mystery fingering yarn, plus KnitPicks Essential in Pumpkin for the heels and toes
Pattern: mine own

It's awfully hard to capture an in-focus picture of this yarn. Something about the way the colors change?

A Sewing Project Begins

Some years back I gave my fancy Pfaff sewing machine, which can dance a tarantella on the head of a pin if you speak its language, to the Daughter Who Sews. I picked up a Singer Talent that can just barely do buttonholes and zigzags - much more my level. In the intervening years I can guarantee that my husband has used it more than I have. But that is about to change.

Did you know that nowadays you can buy sewing patterns - especially vintage patterns - as downloadable pdfs? Then you set your printer as instructed, print out the pattern, and put together a jigsaw puzzle.

Once all the piece of paper are butted together with tape, you cut out the pattern pieces.

Once the fabric I bought arrived, I zigzag'd the cut edges, then washed, dried, and ironed it.

Now I have put in a request for Use of the Dining Room Table, which is currently hosting projects associated with a vegetable garden, and carpentry. When my number in the queue comes up, I will pin the fabric layers together, trace the pattern, and cut out the pieces.

(Just checking, O Sewing Mentor, that trying to cut out fabric - using a cutting board - on my bed would be as hard on my back as wrapping Christmas presents there?)

Not the Sewing Project I Was Looking For

I resisted the whole face mask thing for quite a while. Home-made masks don't protect one from this virus, and while they do protect other people if the wearer is infected, I worried that wearing them would lead to a false sense of immunity.

But the people whose expertise I trust now recommend wearing them while out in public - as opposed to just outside - and so I buckled down to providing some for at least the people who do the shopping for this household.

Two fat quarters donated from Sewing Daughter's fabric stash provided enough material for three masks following these guidelines. I was about 15 minutes from finishing the first one when a request came in from a family member required - with no warning - to wear one to work this morning. So I finished that one off last evening, and accomplished a no-contact delivery. I finished the other two this morning.

I turned up some scrap cotton to make a few more, in case of further emergency needs. And then I hope to be done with that kind of sewing. It put me in mind of the time I sewed a flag (guidon) for a cavalry unit to carry into war, long ago and far away. I remember telling my mom that I felt like Betsy Ross, except that I had three small children underfoot while I did it. The unit returned it with thanks afterwards, and I've still got it around somewhere.

New Horizons

I'm still knitting, but I'm also breaking up my days with other crafts.

I'm not sure this counts as sewing, but it's my new favorite thing and I have a terrific sense of accomplishment that has a lot to do with how many years it's taken me to get around to it.

I've been building a space to retreat to when I need some time alone; borrowing a chair, moving in a table and lamp, etc. The gauzy curtains I hung years ago with visions of them floating in a summer breeze still hung at the window, sad and dusty, and hacked off to the approximate length.

First I threw them in the washer, absolutely convinced that between the amount of dust and the unfinished edge they would dissolve into thread. To my astonishment, they barely frayed at all, and cleaned up to their original white without any special additions to the laundry at all.

So I finally broke out the hemming tape that came with them, and has lived a few feet away from them all this time. I fired up the iron, broke out my heirloom yardstick to use as a straight edge, and went to town.

I'm pretty sure every one of my blog readers is a family member, but just in case, the yardstick is from my grandfather's store.

I measured and folded and ironed in a crease, then unfolded and placed the tape and ironed again. Instant gratification! Today I put them back in the window.

 

If only all sewing was this easy!

Nearly There

I've been working on these for months. It's one of the legacy projects, and matching one mitten to an existing mitten was a wild ride. More about that when they're finished. I am So.Close. to being done.

Souvenir Scarf

The yarn that I bought by mistake made a really lovely scarf for KD. I searched on the yarn and yardage in Ravelry and came upon a scarf pattern that was awesome. The original scarf pattern was clever, but didn't appeal to me. However, the someone who worked it in the yarn I had on hand had converted the pattern to brioche, and it was awesome!

I taught myself the Italian cast on, a brioche selvedge stitch, and tubular bind off. And wound up working the woven part twice because I made the strips too long, which made the weave too loose. But now it's done, and pretty as a picture!

Needles: US 8 (5.00 mm)
Yarn: Cascade 220 Heather in Tangerine Heather
Pattern: Patricia Everett's Celtic Knot Looped Scarf
Mods: Worked the scarf in brioche stitch

A Little Something

Many, many years ago, while visiting the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival, my daughter and I discovered the most delightful little project on the front counter of a vendor's booth. We'd never seen the stitch before and couldn't imagine how the thing was made. The vendor helpfully supplied us with a photocopy of the handwritten pattern, and sold my daughter a little yarn to make it with.

Fast forward to the present. I've just come across this pattern while sorting through paperwork. Nowadays I'm completely familiar with the stitch pattern that is linen stitch, but it happens I've still never made this project. I'm charmed by the idea of something small and neat. I have a vision of making it in Koigu's Painter's Palette Premium Merino, in part because in those bygone years I used to pour over the wall of KPPPM in another vendor's booth, and treat myself to a skein or two. And in part because I want the quick color shifts and tight twist to play with.

I dug into my stash and discovered I have a colorway left, and enough that I can borrow what I need and still have plenty left for a pair of socks.

I wound up the skein

and cast on (and re-cast on, because my gauge was wider than I wanted)

and plunged in.

I never saw that vendor again, and these days there aren't even vendors in that back corner of the Exhibition Hall*. It's also been years since I saw that wall of Koigu. They still make KPPPM - I checked their site - and I see it's $14 these days instead of the $11 I used to spend. The pattern is attributed to Mary Hal Cochran Davis, who the internet informs me died almost a year ago at the age of 90. I can't find her or the pattern on Ravelry, so I'm really glad I kept this bit of paper for all these years.

I have plenty of unfinished objects. But this one is giving me joy right now.

*Because there will be no festival this year, I should mention that when I drove by last month, they were constructing an addition to the Main Exhibition Hall that would about double its space. Something to look forward to!

I Got Nuthin'

You would think - certainly I thought - that all this staying home would result in increased knitting time. The trouble is, everyone else is home with me! There are constantly things to arrange, questions to answer... I can only imagine how much busier my friends with small children must be!

There is knitting getting done, of course, around the edges, but there is no visible progress on anything today. So let us look forward to next week's post!

Beta Testing

I just finished beta-testing a knitting pattern for KD. I'm an excellent beta-tester: if there is a mistake to be made, an instruction that could possibly be misunderstood, I'm here for you. Sadly, this doesn't seem to endear me to most designers in search of beta-testers. But KD was appreciative.

So many new tricks in these simple slippers! A new-to-me cast on, stitch pattern, design element, AND heel. And I did just about every one of them wrong the first time through. As a result, the second slipper flew by - I cast on and bound off the same day.

Legacy Project: Detective Work

Here we have a lovely sweater, roughly 39" chest, 25" length. Missing sleeves. No pattern. I searched hard, and came up with something close, but not close enough.

I do have the yarn, and it's one of my favorites to work with, Berocco Vintage! Fortunately a label was inserted in the middle of one of the skeins.

So what have we got? A rolled neck...

A lovely 2-color ribbing at the bottom, along with a 1-inch hem facing in the process of being sewn down - 3-needle bind off, I think, but I need to get on this first because those stitches are live!

A beautiful 2-color woven yoke that extends through the sleeve caps, both of which are made, but only one attached. That'll be the second step.

Then I'll pick up the stitches for the sleeves. How many? Who knows! One-for-one at the underarm gusset - more live stitches - and 2-out-of-3 or 4-out-of 5 for the rest. As long as it's the same number for both sleeves with no puckering, I should be fine. Length? Decreases? I'll find a similar shape/size and look at their numbers.

And I think probably the same 2-color ribbing on the sleeve cuffs.

And, done!

Green clogs, for DH.

Needles: US 13 (9.00 mm)
Yarn: Patons Classic Wool in Pine, just shy of 4 skeins
Pattern: Bev Galeskas' Felted Clogs

Looking forward to felting them in a few months!

Mysterious Ways

I’ve been teaching a friend to knit. I’ve never tried to count how many people I’ve taught to knit, but I do know that the majority of them have been children (I find 4 to be the perfect age). But I have taught adults, and in these days of free, online, instructional videos, I find teaching to be more of a coaching or mentoring gig.

But this time was different. For one thing, he wasn’t sure which craft he wanted to learn, so we started with crochet. After a little while it wasn’t going well: the yarn was dark and fuzzy, making it difficult to see the loops. I switched him out to a different yarn, and while I was at it, to knitting. I cast on, knit a few rows, then showed him the basic moves and handed it over. He caught on, and after a few rows I taught him to purl, and the difference between garter stitch and stockinette, and sent him home to practice. Today he was back to learn casting on and ribbing. Next time, increases and decreases.

So what’s different? When he took the knitting from me the first time, despite my demonstrating throwing, he started right in picking. He held the working yarn in his left hand, instinctively tensioned it, and went to town. A few rows in, out of curiosity, I explained the difference between continental knitting and whatever we call throwing, and had him try knitting with the yarn in his right hand.

It was like someone trying to teach me to write with my right hand. I could *see* it hurting his brain. So I switched him back, and he went on his merry way.

I’m left to wonder how many people who just don’t take to knitting would have caught on if we tried switching which hand they hold the yarn in.

Two Down, One To Go

Blue clogs, for NKD:

Needles: US 13 (9.00 mm)
Yarn: Patons Classic Wool in New Denim, just over 2.5 skeins
Pattern: Bev Galeskas' Felted Clogs

Re-think

A week of waiting rooms later (I am fine, having passed my annual round of post-cancer testing, thankyouverymuch) the second sock is almost finished. As you can see from this photo taken along the way, I have changed things up a bit.

I started out thinking that I did not have enough yarn, and added a contrasting color for the heels and toes. After the first sock it was evident that I had plenty of yarn, but I now quite like the contrast. However, my toe-up heel was just not the shape I envisaged for a contrasting heel. So I made the second sock top down. It's a much better look, and I don't mind re-doing the first sock at all. What amazes me slightly is that the top-down heel is exactly the same height as the toe-up heel.