A Bluestocking Knits

"Sliten och Lappad Tröja"

This is sad and fascinating at the same time -- sad obviously because it's in such a decrepit state, but fascinating because it must have been quite charming in its day, and of course because its day was in the 1700s.  That's a long time for a piece of knitting to survive!  I find it very poignant that the museum titles it, "Worn and patched sweater" as though those adjectives are now more significant than any other -- and indeed, they give no information about colors, fibers, size, which on other pieces they can be very meticulous about.  The only other information is that it is from the Årstad district in Halland, which is one of the traditional provinces of Sweden, on the western coast in the southern part of the country.

The "carnation" pattern will be familiar to those with a penchant for Scandinavian knitting -- a chart in Sheila McGregor's Complete Book of Traditional Scandinavian Knitting is I think almost exactly the same, and similar carnations appear in Britt-Marie Christoffersson's Swedish Sweaters.

This jacket is in the Nordiska Museet in Stockholm (inventory no. 134916, and apparently also NMA.0041484), by way of DigitaltMuseum.

Two Down, Seven To Go ...

Well, the friend I was knitting the Klaralund for has decided, with much regret, that she would no longer be able to wear it, due to some physical issues, so -- I feel bad that I didn't get it done when she wanted it, years ago but -- that's that.  I've pulled it all out and wound it back up, and it's back in the drawer for a future project.  I took the photo beforehand, to remember how the colors look knitted up.

I don't much like this Berrocco Comfort Sock, but I love the way it looks against these rosewood beauties.  The color is a bit richer in real life.

Thoughts on the Garter Heel Socks

Ta-da!  I've finished the first of my projets anciens -- gosh, it sounds so much better in French! -- the Garter Heel Socks by Susan Lawrence, from the Vogue Ultimate Sock Book, which I started in May 2009.  The yarn is Chameleon Colorworks Bambino superwash merino/bamboo/nylon blend, in Viridian, a lovely yarn in a lovely color, soft and pleasant to knit with.

When I slipped the growing first sock on my foot, I remembered why I'd left off some five years ago -- I'd had to add in 8 more stitches to make it big enough, and it was still a little snug.  The stitches looked visibly pulled, but I wasn't sure if that was the effect of the bias stitches themselves, or this yarn on the bias, as it has a rather lovely shimmer to it and so the light catches it differently, or if it really was too snug.  I suspected now, though, that adding still more stitches would make it too big, so I carried on after all.  It feels perfect, so I guess I'll go for that!

Besides adding in those 8 stitches -- one in each K section of the lace repeat -- I made a few other modifications, most obviously in the welt at the top, which I did in 3x1 rib instead of garter stitch, as I like that better.  I also did my usual pick-up-extra-stitches on the heel flap, which for me solves that problem of a little hole just there -- so my gusset is a bit longer than the original, but not by much, as it happens.

The garter-stitch short-row heel is quite comfortable, but I have the feeling that other than not having to fuss with the wrapped stitches when knitting the heel together, there isn't much point to having it be in garter stitch except the visual element -- though that is certainly interesting!

The Endless Knit of Norwegianness

I finished the Garter Heel socks last night, and blocked them -- they are still too damp to model, so I picked up my Setesdal-style scarf this morning.  It was not at all difficult to figure out where I'd stopped, even so many years ago, so I'm off and running.  Well, not running, really -- I timed myself, and it took me about eight minutes for a two-color row, and about six for a plain one. As Bertie Wooster might say, I hardly know whether to laugh or weep.  These O circular needles have rather sharp points, hard on the fingertips, and a wonky join too, so that every time I adjust the stitches I have to tug to get them past it, and it sounds like ripping.

Oh well -- I still really like the way it's turning out.  Something about Scandinavian knitting really speaks to me, especially the Setesdal lusekofte.  I think it's the miles of quiet with the bit of razzmatazz at each end. 

I also love the neatness of the underside, the way that the strands weave themselves in and out so tidily.

I had decided upon Elizabeth Zimmermann's advice to use her "sock toe" scarf end, but I was still so wet behind the ears, knitting-wise, that I used a bit of dark green wool for the waste stitches, which of course left little green fibers in the white -- I think I've picked out most of them, but you can still see the shadow of a line there!

I got a big kick out of this wonderful photo from the Norwegian Wikipedia article on luskekofter --

The photo was donated to the Municipal Archives of Trondheim by the teacher, whose name was Kristian Flønes -- it's the boys of the Trondheim Framhaldsskole in 1959.  A framhaldsskole, from what I understand, was where those students went who hadn't qualified for gymnasium (what we might call prep school), and was the "more practical and less theoretical" track.  Although only one of these boys looks like trouble, yeah, you can see that they aren't really prep-school material -- but what a wonderful collection of faces and personalities and sweaters!  This would have been just on the brink of the teddy-boy haircut for schoolboys -- you can see one certainly, and some others just about there.  Only one of the sweaters is a really traditional luskekofte (though with a turtleneck), on the boy to Mr. Flønes's right; there are a couple more modern versions on two boys in the front row, and a typical Fana cardigan also in the front row.

Well, I must admit that I wasted a bit of time just now -- as one does, upon hearing that something is going to take you hours and hours of slogging -- on some of those silly internet quizzes --

The funny (scary?!) thing is that I guessed at probably 75% of the questions -- I knew the answers to the history questions (Hitler, the Stasi, etc.) but guessed at most of the others.  Would you pass the German citizenship test? Take this quiz and find out!

I also should live in Hobart of all Australian cities, I'm actually from the US (or France, depending on whether I answered "nachos" or "crème brûlée"), I am between 173cm and 178cm tall (which is about right), with my time machine I should go to either ancient Egypt or ancient Rome (depending, strangely, on whether I answered "dog" or "horse" respectively, as my favorite animal!), I "am" Ingrid Bergman ("The discreet beauty of this actress was perfectly complemented by her low-key character. With her unostentatious refinement she often needed a second chance to cause an impression, but once she did it was overwhelming"!), I'm very good at the plural forms of words, and in a past life I had an affair with -- wait for it! -- Leonardo da Vinci! ("But when you stood to model for him, he was so impressed with your education and your intelligence that he briefly forgot everything else around him. How fortunate that you were already married, otherwise the world would have missed out on many ideas and innovations"! no, that rates two exclamation points ... !!)

I did manage to find, without any trouble at all, a Super Yarn Mart ruler in my sewing drawer --

not so long ago as to be "before" metric, but old enough not to bother with area codes. 

Here is some of the yarn I squirreled away, lots of red, two greys, and black, with unfortunately only a few balls of white.  It is a sturdy, serviceable wool, not spectacular but surprisingly fine-gauge for a workhorse wool, which is why I was so amazed to find it among all of the acrylics and novelty yarns. Plus ça change.

And how long have I had this?

1988.  My goodness.

Progress

I'm down to the toe-shaping on the first Garter Heel sock -- the pin is where I stopped however many years ago it was.  I wasn't sure about the heel as written, as I'm not much of a fan of short-row heels, but in for a penny, in for a pound -- and it went along quite smoothly.

The sock is draped artfully over my stack of Christmas books -- a wonderfully diverse selection.  Actually, the Susannah Stacey mysteries were my gift to David, though technically from my own wish list -- I had read the whole series years ago and liked them very much, and was so disappointed to find that our public library had tossed every single one in the Great Weed of 2010, that I started to pick them up here and there second-hand.  When I discovered David up at two a.m. one morning in November, guiltily reading them ("don't you have the other ones?"), I put them on my wish list, then at Christmas decided to add them to his presents -- everybody wins!

I started reading The Lodger Shakespeare and The Detective as Historian on Christmas Day, in fact, and have since finished Body of Opinion (the third Inspector Bone book) and started on Grave Responsibility -- and of course pretty thoroughly browsed Cententary Stitches, which has a great many interesting patterns in it.  But no (thrusting it aside nobly) I'm going to finish other things first ...!

"Viola and the Countess"

This is an 1859 illustration of "Twelfth Night" titled "Viola and the Countess", by Frederick Richard Pickersgill, rather in the Pre-Raphaelite manner, though I don't think he was a member of that circle.  He also did some years earlier a painting of "Orsino and Viola" with the same Viola, looking if possible even less like a boy than she does here.

Happy Twelfth Night!

We Now Return To Our Regularly-Scheduled Knitting

Well, it's a new year, a clean slate and a fresh start and whatnot, and as I started to clear out drawers I haven't opened since Hector was a pup, I saw the corner of something under a bag of those little balls left over from socks through the years.  "Oh my goodness, it's that Setesdal scarf!"  Right, I thought, it's time to do something about those unfinished projects still sitting around.  Yes, they have come bubbling up to the surface of my conscience with uncomfortable regularity -- it's just that until now I haven't had the nerve to publicly out myself.  So, snagging the idea from Rose Red, I am instigating my own WIP-apalooza for this year.  With a button, of course.

Nine works-in-progress to finish in twelve months -- I can do this!  Here they are, I think in order of ancient-ness ...

Setesdal-style scarf, in fine black and white wools.  I bought this wool at Super Yarn Mart, which tells you how long I've had it.  The WIP isn't quite that old, but nearly.  In my own defense, I misplaced it for quite some time, but I had set it aside in the first place because although I like knitting at a fine gauge, I had got to the "dull" lice section, and the idea of another mile and a half of it was starting to get me down.  This -- I will get my confession out of the way up front -- is by far my oldest UFO, probably twenty years, maybe 25.  Shameful -- especially because I still like it.  I'll photograph the ball band next time, for those of you who remember Super Yarn Mart with affection.

Mother-in-law socks, the Blueberry Waffles, in Shepherd Sock's "Purple Club" colorway.  I chose this pattern partly because it was touted elsewhere as being good for avoiding the pool-and-flash problem, and partly -- I admit -- because Purple Club in this pattern looks just like mashed blueberries and cream.  I got distracted by something else, can't remember now what, and put these away out of trouble, and forgot where they were.

Cousin socks in Shepherd Sock's "Pink Blossom".  I had grand plans of cables and patterned legs to make a splendid pair of knee socks, and gradually realized that all of the already-written patterns wouldn't fit M.'s shapely legs, so gradually got plainer and plainer, and more and more disappointed with the results.  If they had been for me, I wouldn't have minded -- I like vanilla, after all -- but when you've got a reputation to uphold, well.  Of course, now my reputation is as a dawdler!  Part of the trouble is that I was also beginning to suspect that I do not have enough yarn....

Garter Heel Socks, from the Vogue sock book, started in May 2009.  This is Chameleon Colorworks Bambino superwash merino/bamboo/nylon blend, in Viridian.  These didn't quite speak to me at the time, so I felt little compunction in pulling out the needles when I wanted them for something else, and here they still are.  I don't know why I felt so indifferent about them, as I like the color, and the pattern goes well with the yarn.

Klaralund, for a friend, who has either shown enormous patience or has completely forgotten I ever offered to knit her one with this yarn, which is the fabulous Noro Silk Garden #39.  I had got pretty far along with a Rosedale cardigan and decided that I looked like a blimp wearing a Noro cardy, so I frogged it and the yarn sat in the drawer for a long time until I'd made a Klaralund for myself, and thought, "hey! that stash of #39! --"

Muriwai Bath Mat, by Mel Clark in her Knit 2 Together book.  Another rather dull project, miles of garter stitch in the round.  I set this aside for two reasons, actually, one because I was knitting it at a purposely tight gauge so that it would make a thick, absorbent bath mat, and it made my hands ache if I worked on it for very long, and also because it was getting so big that I needed yet another circular needle to hold all of the stitches, and I'd already incorporated all of both mine and my mom's.  (Sorry, mom, I still have your needles!)

Selbu mittens, also -- coincidentally -- in that same Super Yarn Mart wool.  I was working on these in January 2011, I see.  Love these, but because I loved everything about them so very much -- the colors, the feel, the Norwegianness -- wanted nothing less than perfection, which because I was making it up as I went along, kept eluding me.

This is number 6 of a set of felted place mats in Araucania Nature Wool, in a funky random stripe.  Mats 1-5 have been in use on the dining-room table for some months, and I like them a lot.  I've started to run out of colors, though, so I wasn't sure if I should just carry on in the narrow-stripes manner, make them considerably wider, or just go for broke and make a solid -- I have lots of green wool left.

Yoga socks, not strictly a UFO since it's only been about a month since I started them -- but technically, yes, they are still unfinished.  This is my former Invercargill scarf, which rolled mercilessly.  I don't like the yarn that much, as it has a weird squishy feel to it, and I don't especially want acrylic on my feet -- and then I had the brilliant idea of yoga-style socks, which I could wear over regular cotton ones.  I still haven't got to the halfway point of the ball yet, and it's nearing knee-height ...