Happy Holidays, one and all! We’ve been gearing up for the season for a while here at the Cozy Hearth, making sure that our customers, friends, and family stay warm this winter. We wanted to take some time on this year’s Small Business Saturday to celebrate small businesses in general (on our Twitter feed), and to be thankful for everything that makes our little knit-business run.
So on top of the planned Etsy-store-remodel and the furious preparations for our first festival booth in September, we have, of course, still been knitting store orders and custom commissions. I have the great pleasure of finally showing off my most ambitious commission yet – a nearly four-foot-diameter allover lace circle shawl, knitted and designed by yours truly.
I cast on this project at the end of March, with a general plan for the design (lace motifs selected, a mostly finalized idea of order, and the general structure of a pi shawl in mind.) The center of the shawl features a star motif, followed by interspersed concentric rings and various styles of leafy lace charts. As I went, I had to adjust math (of course), check in for feedback from family, friends, and the luckily local customer, and listen to my instincts. The original design actually called for a much more finished style of edging, but as I neared the end, my heart was telling me that a more open, ruffled edge better matched the customer’s original inspiration. Since she and my live-in-knit-experts concurred, this one-of-a-kind version of the Treegarth design opens at its edge with unconstrained blooms of lace and a simple bind-off.
I completed the knitting itself on Sunday, but that is not the end of the journey for lace projects like this. After some thoughtful planning and somewhat frantic search for a space big enough for the purpose, I embarked on the final steps of washing and blocking the shawl early yesterday morning. First, the entire piece was submerged in a mixture of lukewarm water and wool wash for fifteen minutes while I set up my work space. Then, after excess water was carefully drained and pressed out in a towel, I really set to work.
Lace stitches are all about shape, and given yarn’s tendency to follow its spin, the shape of lace stitches can be rumpled and obscured when fresh off the needles. Luckily, natural fibers, especially animal-based fibers, are elastic, and take to reshaping fairly well. By stretching the shawl out and pinning it in place while wet, and not unpinning it until completely dry, I took a charmingly rumpled smallish circle of knitting to a wide, graceful drape over the course of a morning. (The pinning itself actually took an hour, for a piece this large – luckily, my blocking space was quite airy and the light weight of this yarn encouraged the drying step to pass relatively rapidly.)
After blocking was complete and all the pins meticulously collected, the shawl was ready to go to its forever home! Again, local commissions make this step much simpler – the customer was doing errands in the neighborhood and dropped by to try on her prize. From what I hear, it went straight home to display, and she’s excited to have it to wear both for a work-training week ahead and for the very same festival our shop will be selling at in September.
While I can’t wait to refine the Treegarth design further, ideally for future pattern publication, I’m glad I went with my heart and made this particular commission one of a kind. It suits its owner perfectly, and it makes me happy to know that, after all that work, it’s so incredibly loved. Here’s to making more adored knitwear as we continue – onward and upward!
Hey all! First of all, we owe you an apology for the long silence. Our summer has been jam-packed with friends’ weddings (and the associated furiously working needles on wedding gifts), some schedule shifts (as my wife’s workplace expands), and a lot of taking stock. Some of that taking stock was literal – Em and I embarked on a project to fully itemize our personal and professional yarn stashes, which involved almost six hours of up-front labor and a lot of follow-up documentation.
Right now, though, we’re getting ready for some more changes. I’m getting more confident with our Twitter account (if you haven’t seen it, check out the widget at the bottom of the page!). Em is organizing all of our records better. We’re both knitting and planning ahead for our first-ever festival booth – more on that later. And, most importantly, we’re going to be giving our Etsy store a full remodel over the next few weeks, so that we can better use all of Etsy’s features to communicate with visitors to the shop.
We’ll be back with more posts here soon – we’ve got some exciting thoughts about fiber, pattern design, and of course all the projects we’ve been knitting. In the meantime, pardon our dust, and have a great summer of your own. ❤
That’s right, bumblebees and chickadees, I’ve worked out my first pattern design! (I should say, the first design that’s complete and I’m willing to let see the light of day… there’s a few failed monstrosities of pattern drafts stuffed into trash bins around here, and I wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t a giant lace shawl pattern in the works in the background.) These gloves are inspired by construction details from several different fingerless mitts, but the lace charts for the back of the hands are originally the property of Ana at knit-nana, repurposed from her inimitable Mirno shawl design with her gracious permission. (Thanks Ana!)
My hand-copied draft chart, and an early prototype knit.
The lace comes out quite differently at the gauge used for mitts (I tried a few different worsted weight yarns at US size 7 needles). I’d originally thought it would be best shown in a lighter worsted yarn with a bit more shine to the fiber, but, surprisingly, Em’s test knit yarn choice (of which I was incredibly dubious) is my favorite finished test knit so far.
Em’s finished test knit, in 2-ply merino hand-dyed with rudbeckia.
Em chose to do a test knit using yarn gifted to us for Christmas (thanks Grandparents Boyle!). The yarn is more deeply tied to our family than simply by gifts, though; our cousins Paul and Sadie run the excellently adorable Foothills Flowers Farm in Washington, and above and beyond the beautiful blooms, they also sell yarn hand-dyed with their own flowers through their online shop. It’s definitely worth checking out, and I highly recommend their yarn for this design! (Disclaimer: Paul and Sadie didn’t pay me anything for this; I just really like their yarn.)
Detail of the geometric Mori Lace.
The Mori Lace Gloves use a simple lace at the wrist to create a gentle ruffle, then proceed up the hand with geometric lace at the back (bordered with a subtle 1×1 cable on each side) and a simple thumb gusset. There are special instructions for a bind-off that hits the sweet spot between stretchy enough for finger and thumb movement, and firm enough to not stretch out of shape. None of the lace stitches are exceedingly advanced; any intermediate lace knitter or adventurous beginner could have an easy time making a sweet, rustic set of fingerless mitts.
C’mon, you know that thumb gusset looks awesome!
That said: readers who are also knitters, if any of you are interested in test-knitting to help me iron out the last bugs in my instructions before I publish to Ravelry, I would love to hear from you! Shoot us an email at email@example.com, or get in touch with me through whatever social media you prefer.
Bonus feature: looking stylish and staying warm while enjoying your knitting-fuel of choice.
For now, back to proofreading, and figuring out Ravelry’s “add a pattern” process…
A lot of the photography for this blog has taken place on the front steps of our apartment, partly because that space has good lighting and some good framing devices, but also because it’s a favorite knitting space for me in particular. Since the weather in this season is highly unreliable, though, and because I missed the conjoined activities of knitting while people-watching, I’ve been taking time a few mornings a week to bring my knitting to a coffee shop for a few hours. So far, it’s been excellent.
Knitting in public does a number of good things, both personal and in general. Personally, I can get a boost in productivity and focus on nearly any project when I introduce occasional changes in setting, and knitting is no different. I blew through the end of one project and got a lot of physical and mathematical work done on another. Almost more importantly, though, knitting in public means that I am being seen.
A nearly-finished baby vest – just needs buttons!
It’s pretty much a constant wherever I knit (except the front step – students passing my home on the sidewalk stick to friendly nods or waves at most) that someone – usually of my parents’ generation or older – stops to comment on the knitting with something along the lines of “my mother/grandmother used to do that, I’ve no idea how, it’s a lost art, good for you.” I find it almost sad how universal that experience seems to be for a lot of people, but by being seen knitting, we can directly challenge the idea that the arts of fiber crafting are lost or inaccessible. Knitting isn’t dead – it’s right here, happening in front of you, in a startling variety of styles and colors, and if you chat long enough and show enough interest we’ll probably share our favorite online tutorials.
This week, I met one man who couldn’t tell my knitting from crochet but still thought it was beautiful, one middle-aged professional who talked enthusiastically with me about having just started learning to knit this winter, one lady who’d never seen a circular shawl before, and one entire friend group of older women who oo’d and ah’d over the lace charts in my notebook. I made half a dozen temporary friends, and got some encouragement about the value and skill of my work – and that never would have happened if I hadn’t taken my knitting out of my nest.
My current commission project is going spectacularly so far, although I’m beginning to get into the longer and longer rows as circumference grows on this circular shawl.
I’ll look forward to front-step knitting as the weather continues to get warmer (and may even steal a few hours out there this afternoon if sunshine doesn’t turn to rain), but I think I’ve found another excellent public-knitting place this week- and what’s more, it’s not dependent on the capriciousness of April showers. I’ll be back, project bags in hand and a latte at the ready, and see how much work – knitting and being seen knitting – I can get done this time.
I said I’d be back to talk about my continuing lace adventures and here I am, with yet another complex lace shawl in my lap. I’ve talked before in multiple posts about how much I love lace, and it holds true; as I expand my knitting into a profession instead of just a hobby, it’s even more important to me to have one or three “selfish knitting” projects aside that I do just for my own pleasure… and the most pleasurable thing for me to knit, at least at this stage in my life, is shawl-sized sprawls of lace.
Plushy comfort knitting is one thing (like the bit you can see on my hands) but delicate lace is its own entire art.
This particular example of that class is yet another new challenge for me. Liara-Rose is the very first circular shawl I’ve cast on. Circular shawls involve an entirely different construction method – unlike the triangle shawls in our Etsy store, or the crescent shawl shapes of some of my previous shawl posts, I cast this on in the center of the finished object instead of on one edge. The knitting spirals outward from a bare nine stitches to a finished circumference (before the knit-on edging) of 576 stitches. The pattern-writer’s test shawl blocked to be 42 inches in diameter, but since I’m using a slightly heavier yarn and correspondingly larger needles, I’m expecting this to end up notably wider.
Why use heavier yarn and needles? I’m still working around chronic pain and repetitive stress injuries in my hands. Knitting has been the best physical therapy for my problems so far, but I still have to be careful – maybe someday I’ll be recovered enough to knit tiny, delicate, ‘wedding-ring lace’ shawls, but for now, I’ll keep leveling up my skills with needles of a size I can comfortably grip.
US size 6 needles, or the size I’m holding here, is still the smallest I can comfortably knit with for any length of time. As of a year ago, though, my comfort stopped at size 8, so I’ll probably keep gently expanding my range smaller as I increase finger strength and stretch old injuries.
Regardless of it’s slightly oversized nature, I’m still deeply in love with this project so far. Circular shawl construction is turning out to be a blast, and I love the way the pattern is slowly blooming outward along my needles. I chose this pattern in particular for my first circular shawl partly because it seemed sensibly written and aesthetically pleasing, but also partly because the pattern itself is named after one of my favorite video game characters; I chose the yarn for similar reasons (although it’s not necessarily obvious from just the one listing, Alpaca Cloud colorways have a fairly obvious Jane Austen theme to them when read as a group.) With one of my favorite literary characters and one of my favorite video game romances referenced, I get a little (perhaps silly) sentimentality added to an already unique project.
The yarn is also a new experience! I’d never worked with alpaca fiber before, but I wanted to try something different, and winter luxury yarn sales are a definite weakness of mine. I’m finding this loosely spun fiber pleasantly soft, and so far the circle of shawl finished is quite warm. All the “loft,” or loose air-filled structure of the fabric, traps heat quite well for being extremely lightweight.
And a warm lapful of lofty alpaca fiber is perfect – even on unseasonably warm days like this, the shade and the breeze can get chilly when you’re holding still and knitting!
It’ll still be a ways to go, but hopefully I can be modeling this shawl (knit-on edging, beads, and all) by this autumn at the latest. Until then, I’ll definitely enjoy some stolen minutes of “selfish knitting” on this project as often as I dare!
So it’s not a Friday, but I couldn’t wait any longer: I needed to talk about my pride and joy, my graduation-to-next-level-lace-knitting, my biggest knitting triumph of the year so far. I finally, after one week shy of a year, finished the Duskwings shawl, just in time to gift it to my wife for our legal-wedding anniversary.
This exceedingly mild spring is perfect for layering a worsted-weight shawl like this over light, cute tops that have been languishing in drawers all winter.
I ended up using all but the tiniest leftover bit of the 630 yards of yarn I’d bought, and I literally knitted one of the tips I picked up just for this shawl nearly into pieces. I also had quite the adventure when it came time to block this beautiful monstrosity. For those unfamiliar with the term, blocking is the process of using moisture, pins, and a large flat surface to coax natural fibers (especially wool) to reset their “default” positions to your ideal. It’s especially important with lace, and with garments; before this shawl was blocked, all the feathertips curled up dramatically, and it was easily almost a foot shorter in length from the cast-on edge to the bind-off. I’m glad I blocked it… but I definitely had to completely rearrange a closet in order to spread the shawl out over sheets covering the entire walk-in-closet floor to pin it out to the appropriate size!
Closeup views of the lace patterns: first the long flight feathers along one ‘wing,’ then the smaller feathers up at the shoulder.
Once I had the shawl blocked, it was much easier to see all the mistakes I’d made. After carefully securing one dropped stitch I hadn’t caught in the knitting process, I spent a lot of time staring at the ‘shoulder feathers,’ or the primary lace motif for the first third of the shawl’s length. As I talked about in my WIP entry for this shawl, I struggled a lot with that lace motif… and it shows. Going back to review other people’s shawls knitted to the same pattern, it became fairly obvious that the original design intended to produce regular, even diamond shapes before breaking into the long feathers. The Duskwings have irregular, organic lines faintly hinting at diamond-like organization, chains of yarnovers (the open spaces in lace) trailing off and doubling along each other like mussed, overlapped contour feathers. As it turns out, Kai vastly prefers the chaotic imperfection I accidentally introduced to the design – it does rather suit her personality and approach to life. (Now if only I knew how to vary the design intentionally…)
Wings are ideal for hugging little pumpkins, and suit Kai’s style perfectly.
I feel so relieved to have finally finished something that was such a massive challenge, and, in the end, such a massive success. Of course, this means I have to dive in headfirst into new challenges in my favorite niche of the knitting world: keep your eyes peeled for a post coming soon about my newest attempt at stretching my lace skills. And, of course, like I mentioned before, I wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t already bright-gold yarn waiting in the background for me to be ready to cast on this pattern once again, and see how much better I can do the next time around. A different fiber, a slightly different needle size, and a very different skill level should make the same pattern into a perfect complementary set of wings for myself.
My very first knitting project was improvised – as were several of the follow-up projects. I referenced some patterns for those early ideas, but for the most part, I wanted to see what I could figure out with the skills I’d picked up. I knit from patterns somewhat more frequently now, but I will often add tweaks of my own, whether it’s just recopying the instructions in a format that’s more intuitive for me to read, or adjusting the construction of the finished item, or even lifting a lace or color motif from one item to place it in another finished object.
That said, it’s hard to say whether or not I have a favorite pattern or designer. I own two patterns by Nim Teasdale, which is to date the most money I’ve spent on a single designer – her mix-and-match approach to lace charts appeals to my need for improvisation, and her instructions and charts are incredibly well-written. I also adore the Universal Toe-Up Sock Formula. It does what I like to do with a pattern in my head, breaking down the basic architecture of a knitted item into a series of if-then decisions to make infinitely customizable finished objects (in this case, socks). I’m always finding new things to favorite or add to my library on Ravelry, though, so we’ll have to see – maybe in 2017 I’ll really fall in love with a pattern or a designer once and for all.
The beginning of a universal sock, done with a moss-stitch texture on the top and extra fitting construction details in a worsted-weight yarn.
If you’ve been to our home in the past year or so, you’d know: we really love our yarn here. Em invested in a gigantic set of solid-pine cubbyhole shelving units for the yarn stash at the beginning of last year, and we keep the cubby baskets overflowing. We inherited a lot of yarn from our wonderful mother’s stash she kept for kindergarten crafts – even the older, sometimes a bit loveworn, harsher acrylic blends make awesome pattern-test yarn and an endless supply of provisional cast-ons, thumbhole-holding-stitches, and knitted kitty toys. We also have gotten a lot of yarn as gifts (me on Christmas was a sight to behold, arms overflowing with skeins and pattern books), and of course we keep our eyes peeled for good sales. My personal indulgence this winter sale was to order my first skeins of 100% alpaca yarn, and I’m excited to see how it works up.
If you absolutely must ask what fiber or yarn do you love working with? for today’s challenge question though, I do have one fairly obvious answer. Over the lifespan of our Etsy shop and custom commissions, it’s become pretty clear that I have a blossoming love affair for Cascade Pacific.
It’s turned into my go-to worsted weight yarn for any project, partly because it’s just such a delight to work with – incredibly soft, and available in a stunningly gorgeous range of colors. I’m enjoying collecting up a small rainbow of colors in our store-yarn stash as I finish off lace bags for everyone, and I’m planning on releasing more designs featuring this yarn in the next few months. It’s soft, it’s warm, it’s relatively easy to care for while still retaining some of the amazing features of fine merino wool. In short, while I adore collecting all kinds of yarn and will probably never stop, Pacific is shaping up to be an enduring favorite.
Happy new year, readers! It seems fitting to kick it off with the next question on my list: what’s your most challenging project?
Measuring challenge in knitting isn’t always simple, and I thought about this for a long time. Since it’s a new year, though, I’m featuring a new project, one that will probably get a proper WIP Wednesday write-up of its own once it actually makes it onto the needles – a properly fitted, gorgeous emerald green sweater for my wife Kai.
Look at that color! Silk fibers are known for holding dye with an unparalleled depth of color, and this yarn (Lang Yarns Silkmerino) is 38% silk.
Kai has often struggled to find off-the-rack “fitted” garments in feminine styles that are actually comfortable for her to wear. I, of course, took this as a challenge. Armed with what I’ve learned so far on my knitting journey, extensive explanations and diagrams in the “Shaping and Fitting” section of The Knowledgable Knitter, and this unbelievably touchable yarn I picked up for a steal on Love Knitting’s Black Friday sale, I’ve been getting to work.
Which, on a project this challenging and this important, means planning.
Measure twice, knit once. Hopefully.
I’m a bit nervous about this sweater, to be perfectly honest. Margaret Radcliffe gives excellent suggestions and instructions in her book, but I’ve never done fitting before, and trying to adapt a basic top-down raglan pullover so that it is not only flattering but carefully avoids all possible pitfalls (too tight across the bust, restriction of arm movement, front hem riding too high) involves juggling several different shaping techniques in one seamless piece of knitting, and a truly large amount of math. I say “knit once” in my caption above, but I’ll probably end up having to rip back and reknit several sections once I see how they actually sit on Kai’s body as opposed to carefully planned theory.
I’m still really excited about this, though. I feel like it’s a definite stretch of my capabilities, finally designing something intended to not only be comfortable and pretty but tailored to a person. And, of course, I get to play with some gorgeous yarn while I’m doing it.