I had this old sleeveless pullover in a drawer that I'd knitted up from some of that lovely red Araucania Nature Wool, but it pilled so much from the moment I first put it on, that I dreaded wearing it -- except for the color, of course. So the other day I remembered that I only have five of the felted placemats I made from the rest of the Nature Wool, and I want to have at least six -- and so I spent a day ripping out the pullover, another day winding it all into skeins (wh. wasn't easy as I'd knitted it double), another few days waiting for it to dry after I washed it, another day winding it all into balls -- and now I am knitting with it. I don't know yet how far it will go -- we'll see. I didn't notice how much of a color variation there is in the latest stretch of knitting -- luckily it is a little less obvious in real life than in the camera, for some reason!
Yes, another petit point miniature carpet! Couldn't resist. This is another one from Frank Cooper's book, one he identifies as a Bergama. The chart is much more reliable than the Shirvan I worked this past spring and summer -- but this time, because I converted it from Paternayan wools to Appleton's (with a reduction in canvas gauge as well), I really had no idea of how much wool to buy, and I have just run out of the golden-brown. You can see that I'm nowhere near being finished with golden-brown, either. I'm going to hobble along for a while without it, and see if anything else looks like running short ...
If you have read much D.E. Stevenson, you will know somehow that her 1953 book Five Windows is for some reason extremely difficult to find. There are rarely many copies available, and those few are priced well into the hundreds of dollars. Why? I have no idea -- she was already a well-established and popular author by the early 1950s, so I'd be surprised if her publishers didn't issue a large run. But for those of us who, not for lack of trying, have never seen a copy, Greyladies recently reissued Five Windows in paperback. The story has one of her fairly rare first-person narratives, and one of her even-more-rare male main characters, but for all that it is a charming story in which nothing terribly dramatic happens, but you like the characters and you want them to be happy. I suppose David Kirke's mother might have knitted him a jumper or a scarf before he went off to London from his little home in the Scottish Borders, though there was no mention of it, but I thought I would look for something that reminded me of young Janet Lorimer, and I was rather surprised, in Googling "1950s misses knitting pattern" to find that most of the things that came up were either matronly or with models more suited to Parisian scenes with their bent wrists and their lipstick -- not fresh-faced Scottish lasses at all! So I was delighted when this one came up to see not only a girl one wouldn't mind sitting next to on a train but one with a Fair Isle jersey as well! This booklet is from the 1940s, and the pattern itself is available for free at The Vintage Pattern Files. Enjoy!
