A Bluestocking Knits

Thoughts on the "It's Tea Time" Socks

These have been finished for a while, but I'm only just getting around to photographing them -- the "It's Tea Time" from Around the World in Knitted Socks by Stephanie van der Linden.  This was my travel knitting, you may remember, though we were so thoroughly -- albeit delightfully -- busy that I did most of the knitting after we got back home.

They are worked in Shepherd Sock in "Whisper", a pretty sort of pale pink, on Kolláge 2mm (US 0) square dpns.  The pattern is a bit more texture than I usually go for (!), but I like them a lot -- memorizable but not difficult, so certainly a pleasant combination.

The heel-turning instructions refer the knitter to the glossary for short-row instructions, but I don't know why, as the heel requires only the most basic "turn work around" maneuver -- the "slipped yarn-over" instructions are for a wrapping method, and that abbreviation (SLYO) appears in other patterns in the book for truly-short-row heels (i.e. not flap heels like this one), so I'm guessing that the "see Glossary" reference here is simply a mistake.  It's not a serious one, by any means, except that for a while I was trying to cram the SLYO into a heel-turning that would not accommodate it.  (Here is the errata list, by the way.)

One of the things that really appealed to me was the exceptionally handsome variation on the heel -- done with stitches, not structure, so of course it fits like the flap heel but looks different.

As for the Kolláge Square dpns, I'm not sure that they made much of a difference for me.  I found the needles at Tuesday Morning for almost half the sticker price -- dithered, went back a few days later and they were still there, so I bought them -- you can always use another set of sock needles, right?!  I don't usually have a problem with ergonomics, thankfully, so that isn't an issue, and my tension -- presumably due to my being tense all of the time -- is usually fairly even, so I'm not sure I really see a benefit there either.  The third selling-point is that they don't slip out of one's work as easily as round needles, but that for me is one of the benefits of wood, that the slight texture of the wood makes them a little "grabbier" -- I did have the Kolláges slip out on me occasionally, but that was at the usual spots where I had one or two stitches left on a needle and looked away for a moment, to pick up my cup of tea or some such, and the needle fell.  But they do on the whole feel fairly secure, so there is that.  For me, I'd say that on the whole the jury is still out on this one.  I do, though, really appreciate the very clear size markings! 

And although it has no bearing on the needles themselves, I got them for a good bargain, so they are perfectly satisfactory to me in that respect!

Terror of the Zygon Yarn-Ends

I've learned a new-to-me technique for weaving in ends, with this Fourth Doctor scarf.  There are a lot of ends here -- over a hundred, with all of those stripes! -- so after every six or eight color changes, I stop and weave in the ends so as not to be overwhelmed with them all at once.  The pattern from DoctorWhoScarf.com has you weave them in this way, so I thought I'd try it, and it works very well, so I will add it to my bag of tricks.

Work the garter stitch scarf slipping every last stitch knit-wise, and the first stitch of a new-color row with the old color.  Leave the ends around 4 to 6 inches long, or a little less if you feel daring.  You will have something like the photo at top, with the previous color to the right and the new one to the left.

To weave in the two ends, take the "new" color and tie a half-knot with the new color going over the old one (or in other words, the one in your left hand over the one in your right).

Because you worked the first stitch of the new stripe with the old color, as you snug up the half-knot the ends will begin to wrap around each other in a remarkable imitation of a knit stitch, with the two "bumps" interlocking.

Pull the ends close, but not tightly.

Thread one end of yarn into a darning needle, and weave the needle over and under the legs of the stitches in the old-color row, for the length of about 20 stitches.

Repeat the weaving for the second end, again weaving it into its matching color stripe.

Pull the ends towards the middle of the knitting, snugly but not tightly.  If you pull it too tightly, just tug on the edge a little to make it straight again.

Pull the end of wool out from the knitting just a little bit, and snip it off closely -- as the stitches return to their original shape, the end will slide back into the knitting and disappear.  If you had a particularly short end, you may not even need to trim it.

Nice and tidy!

Red and White

The Mora mittens have a cast-on detail in red wool, so yesterday I wound off about 20 yards of the wool and dyed it with a packet of Black Cherry Kool-Aid.  I admit that I was hoping it would have a little more purple in the red, but the result is still a beautiful, intense color, and will look very handsome against the white mittens.

I've put a new album in the side-bar to keep a record of my dyeing experiments -- I must say, it's quite fun, watching the wool change, and it was so interesting that I got out a bit of leftover crewel wool and did a "kettle-dye" experiment with a packet of Lemonade ...

"Rain, Rain -- Please Come Back Tomorrow, Too!"

Just in time for a cold snap -- and some rain! -- the two-end knitting practice that turned into wrist-warmers (muddar in Swedish).

The "sampler" stitches are a three-strand cast-on, 1 round plain, 2 rounds P, 9 rounds with a crook-stitch diagonal (worked in the other direction on the second mitt because it amused me), 2 rounds P, 20 rounds plain, 2 rounds P, 1 round plain, a "chain path" (2 rounds crook sts), 1 round plain, 2 rounds P, 1 round plain, 1 round P, bind off purl-wise.  The only thing that didn't turn out well was that the chain path doesn't quite stand out enough, with the compression of the purl chains above and below it.

There is definitely a "jog" at the beginning of the rounds -- the spiral effect is quite clear on the purl rounds!

The Cashmore is wonderfully soft and warm, so wristwarmers were a happy accident.  I might make another pair with just the purl rounds, as the carried-across yarn makes it feel almost silky.

We've had a nice bit of rain this week-end -- I'm sure the garden is just as appreciative as I am --

Siberian iris.

Bladderpod, or California cleome (Peritoma arborea, formerly Isomeris arborea) -- part of my new California-natives bed.

Arrow-shaped echeveria (E. setosa).

Adventures in Tvåändsstickning

Of course one can't be interested in the history of knitting, especially of Scandinavian knitting, without coming across tvåändsstickning, and I have seen it in my own books and here and there on the internet throughout the years, but I've always given a sort of not-for-me shrug and moved on.  There is a short section about it in Priscilla Gibson-Roberts' Knitting in the Old Way, and a rather longer one in Sheila McGregor's Complete Book of Traditional Scandinavian Knitting, to name just two on my shelf.  I don't know why I kept passing it by -- perhaps because of the fact that both Roberts and McGregor imply, by saying that instead of working it the traditional way with the two yarns in one hand, they do with with one strand in each hand, that it's really difficult -- but the other day I came across a photo on the internet, and, to coin a phrase, it had me at "Ormsta".  Something about it just made me think, I have to make that.

(The painting above is "Stickande Kulle (Girl Knitting)" (1901) by Anders Zorn, Mora parish's favorite son.  This is one of the areas in Dalarna in central Sweden where many of David's Swedish ancestors are from, and so from that and having consequently spent quite a lot of time buried, as it were, in Mora church books, of course I feel a particular affinity with the place.  The young woman in the painting is wearing the distinctive Mora green jacket, with the traditional green or red apron with simple colored bands near the hem.  Apparently it is obvious to folk knitters that she is working two-end knitting by the way she is holding her right hand, especially the first two fingers.)

I have a stash of wool that has been stuffed in a drawer for, I don't know, twenty-five years at least, which I bought with prize money from a rather gratifying first-place win in the county fair some time ago, but --

it is in a parlous state, I'm sorry to say.  It is Trendsetter Yarns' Micro Cashmore [sic], a superfine merino and microfiber blend, baby-soft and in a lovely pale lavender with a hint of grey.  I loved it so much from the moment I saw it, that the project I would make with it had to be utterly perfect, and although I tried any number of times, it never was.  Of course the yarn was rather battered after being knitted and ripped out and knitted and ripped out, but when looked at in a hopeful light, it is still whisper-soft and a beautiful color, and would be very pleasing as a set of mitts which could be worn under coat sleeves so that no-one would know how badly I've treated it, but could still be fondled for its amazing softness.  And so, feeling so unsettled this past week that I just wanted to knit something and thinking of this long-buried stash of wool in the drawer, and seeing the Ormsta mitts, it all just came together like the tumblers of a lock quietly clicking into place.

I do not, though, know a single person who can do this technique, so I turned perforce to the internet with a set of 2.5mm needles and a ball of the Cashmore in my hands.

This is I think a fairly good introduction to the technique, starting with one of the simpler cast-ons, and no worries about not understanding Swedish because there isn't any audio at all.  (I sympathize, by the way, with the translation "twined knitting" because the two strands of yarn twine around each other as you work, like ivy vines, but I rather prefer the more literal translation of "two-end knitting".  The Swedish word is a bit of a tongue-twister for English speakers, but the pronunciation "tvoh-endts-stick-ning" isn't far off.)

After a couple of attempts at using two balls of wool, by the way, I realized that it is much easier to untwist the two strands -- which you will have to do regularly, there is no way around it -- if you are working with a center-pull ball, because you can just hold either the ball or your knitting in the air and let it unspin itself, which is harder with two balls plus knitting.

This method makes a nice, soft, center-pull ball, though after a while, when I wanted a second one and the first was still in use, I thought I might as well learn another Scandinavian technique while I'm at it, and try a nostepinne ("nohst-uh-pin-nuh").  I don't actually have one, but thought of a reasonable substitute borrowed from the girls --

I haven't got this technique at all yet, understanding it in principle -- which is brilliantly simple -- but not in practice.  My first ball is much more ovoid than anything I've seen come off a nostepinne in other people's hands, but I suspect it's really worth figuring out.

I decided to work a beginning section on my first sampler with the yarns held one in each hand, so that I could see the difference between the two techniques, and I'm glad I did because it is quite clear.  This is the outside --

and this the inside --

I expect the wobbliness of the stranded portion would smooth out a bit with blocking, but even without you can see how much more firm and dense the twisted portion is.  There is also a distinctive slight angle to the fronts of the knit stitches, so I'm a bit puzzled by Roberts' and McGregor's assertions that you can work it stranded and have it come out "the same" -- oh well.  McGregor says that she likes the fluffier (and thus theoretically warmer) texture of the two-handed version, which is fine and logical, of course, but I'm exploring the technique here, so wanted to try it the traditional way.

Rather surprisingly, I could find little information about how to work the various stitches, only lots of examples of them.  One of the helpful places was spinnity's "Larus and Ardea" set of fingerless mitts on Knitty, which describes (in words only) the basic variations.  I also found this post helpful, from Rebecca at The Fiber Bug.

When I decided that I wanted to try a three-strand cast-on, the only illustrated tutorial I found online was from Kitty at Knit Buddies, though I'm pretty sure I'm not doing it right, as mine looks quite different from hers --

I don't know if I've "unvented" something or if I've just put the back side at the front, but it looks quite tidy at least, so I carried on.  It's firm and yet quite stretchy and it doesn't curl, though obviously I should also figure out the "real" method!

So here is my sampler so far --

with the “easy” two-end knitting (two-handed) for 10 rounds at the bottom and then 10 rounds of properly-twisted two-end (one-handed), then a twined purl round which makes a distinct braid-like line, then isolated crook stitches, a "chain path" of two rounds of crook stitches, and then what I thought I was doing with the isolated crook stitches, the little O's like in the Ormsta mitts, which is actually a two-round process, making the crook stitch (which is a P, K, P combination with the two yarns held on their respective sides of the fabric) in the first round, then a sort of reverse-crook (K, P, K, again with the yarns held on their respective sides). Yeah, it's a little complicated, but I think I'm getting the hang of it! though I can certainly imagine a quiet "Nej, min vän, garnet går det så här" if I were to knit in Swedish company! I felt confident enough last night to start another sampler, which I hope will actually be a wearable wrist-warmer before too long.

Black Velvet School Socks

These toe-up school socks have taken me a while to knit, but I've enjoyed the knitting thereof, so I don't mind at all.  While only the heel was actually a new-to-me technique, I used a number of unfamiliar ones, so it was also definitely a learning experience.

I started with a toe-up toe adapted from Charlene Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks, which turns out looking very much like a top-down grafted toe and goes together fairly easily.  It is also adaptable to a wide variety of sizes.  I worked the first one according to the instructions, then thought that the 2 sts between the increases looked a little narrow, so I worked the second sock with 4 sts between the increases.  I've done this toe a number of times, but rarely actually finished the socks, so now I can give full marks to the "school" part!

Here you can see the difference between the toe with 2 sts between the increases, and the one with 4 --

To be honest, I couldn't really feel a difference in the wearing, but I like the look of the wider toe, so that is what is in the pattern below.

I also used the justly-famous Widdershins heel, which worked perfectly and looks very nice.  My heel is actually an adaptation of an adaptation, since for some reason I was a little anxious about the whole toe-up thing, and I'd heard around the knitting blogosphere that the original Widdershins was only for a certain number of stitches, so I ended up using a formula that allowed the knitter to calculate for more or fewer stitches.  Despite this being a rather convoluted path, it all went very smoothly.

The heel turn of the Widdershins makes a very generous curve, wider than the standard top-down turning, but this is not necessarily a bad thing, and I expect it could be adapted for those who want a narrower turning at the bottom of the heel.

The third new-ish technique was the Russian lace bind-off, said to be excellent for toe-up socks that need to have a stretchy bind-off.

The Tosh Sock is really lovely to knit with, soft and silky, and the color is fabulous.  The skein is very generous, and I made the legs quite long with still a golf-ball-sized length left over.  On the down side, the yarn bled quite a lot when I blocked them (the red), and the socks are already starting to fuzz at the toes, after only one wearing.

On the whole, I like the socks very much, and I've finished and worn a pair of very nice toe-ups, but generally I think I prefer the top-down construction.  Even though the bind-off is fairly stretchy, it just doesn't appeal to me as much as a good Old Norwegian cast-on.  I also like the ability to make the length of the gusset longer without having to recalculate the distance between toe and the beginning of a toe-up gusset.  The biggest plus that I can see in working a toe-up sock is still having the stitches in a pattern "right-side up"!

Here is my pattern in full:

"Black Velvet" School Socks

This sock uses a toe-up wedge-type toe adapted from the Easy Toe in Charlene Schurch’s Sensational Knitted Socks (Martingale, c2005), and a version of the "generic Widdershins heel" by Mel of Cabezalana, in turn adapted from Brooke Chenoweth Creel’s innovation of the classic round-heel, Sl1-K1 heel-flap heel worked toe-up. My version realigns Mel’s generic Widdershins to accommodate the round starting at the bottom center of the heel.

This sock is knitted in Madelinetosh Tosh Sock yarn (100% superwash merino wool, 395 yards/361 meters per 100+g skein) in the "Black Velvet" colorway, worked on 2mm needles at a gauge of about 32 sts per 4 in./10cm, and measures about 3 1/2 in. (18 cm) across the foot laid flat.

Toe

With waste yarn and provisional CO, cast on 12 sts. Change to sock yarn and P 1 row.

Work back and forth in st st for 6 rows. Remove provisional CO and place sts on a second needle. (12 sts on each of 2 needles.)

Beg working in the round.

Set-up rnd (RS): K 4; this needle will in a moment be needle 4. With another needle (needle 1), K 6 then pick up and K 2 sts from side edge. With needle 2, pick up and K 2 sts from side edge, then K 6 from CO edge. With needle 3, K remaining 6 from CO edge, then pick up and K 2 from side edge. With needle 4, pick up and K 2 sts from side edge, then K to end. Rnd now begins at center sole. (8 sts on each of 4 needles.)

K 1 rnd.

Rnd 1: K to last 2 sts of needle 1, M1R, K2; K2, M1L, K to end of needle 2; K to last 2 sts of needle 3, M1R, K2; on needle 4, K2, M1L, K to end.
Rnd 2: K.

Rep Rnds 1 and 2 until there are 56 sts total.

Continue until foot measures 3" (7.6 cm) less than desired length.

Gusset

Rnd 1: K to last st of needle 1, M1R, K1; K across needles 2 and 3; on needle 4, K1, M1L, K to end.
Rnd 2: K.

Rep these 2 rnds 9 times more. (10 sts inc on both needles 1 and 4).

Turn Heel

On needle 1, K8, M1L, K1, w&t.
P10 on needle 1, P8 on needle 4, M1P, P1, w&t.
K10 on needle 4, K6 on needle 1, M1L, K1, w&t.
P8 on needle 1, P6 on needle 4, M1P, P1, w&t.
K8 on needle 4, K4 on needle 1, M1L, K1, w&t.
P6 on needle 1, P4 on needle 4, M1P, P1, w&t.
K6 on needle 4, K2 on needle 1, M1L, K1, w&t.
P4 on needle 1, P2 on needle 4, M1P, P1, w&t.
K4 (to end of needle 4).

K one round across all needles, picking up wraps and knitting them with the wrapped sts as you come to them.

Heel flap

K 13 sts on needle 1, SSK, turn work without wrapping.

Sl1, P to end of needle 1, P 13 sts on needle 4, P2tog, turn work without wrapping.

(Sl1, K1) to end of needle 4 and on across needle 1 until there are 13 sts on needle 1, SSK, turn without wrapping.

Sl first st, P across needle 1 and needle 4 to 1 st before the previous SSK, P this st tog with the next st, bridging the "gap" formed by the decrease.

Rep these last 2 rows until all of the gusset and heel sts have been worked except for 1 remaining gusset st on each of needles 1 and 4. (Sl1, K1) to the gap, then SSK across the gap as before, but do not turn. K across needles 2 and 3; on needle 4, P2tog across the gap, P to end. (14 sts on each needle, 56 total).

Leg

Work in st st until leg is desired length. Work 15 rnds in K3, P1 rib. BO using Russian lace bind-off as follows:

*Purl 2 sts tog. Loosen up st on right needle, and return it to left needle. Rep from * until all sts have been bound off. Cut yarn and draw through last st. Weave in ends.

Thoughts on the Gaia Shoulder Hug

Rain? did I say rain? It's pouring. 

Apparently I managed to grab the only bit of sunshine yesterday afternoon, so there is no "action shot" of this, which is of course the Gaia Shoulder Hug, a free pattern by Anne Carroll Gilmour that I first saw over at Mason-Dixon Knitting.

This is Noro's Taiyo, another of their new-ish sock yarns; it has exactly the same yardage as the Kureyon Sock recommended in the pattern.  My label says very clearly "color 5", though it doesn't look anything like any of the 5s I can find online. 

I don't think I would ever use this yarn for socks, as it feels like I'm knitting with quilting thread, although in all fairness I'm also working those mitts in Rowan 4-Ply Soft at the same time, which in comparison is like knitting with cloud fluff.  I've come to the conclusion that I just don't like Noro that much.  The thick/thin goes beyond slubbiness, the twist makes it worm at times uncontrollably, and it doesn't feel particularly pleasant next to the skin -- yeah, the colors are what get you.  I don’t buy it with any sort of irresistible enchantment, only a sigh of “well, maybe this time it will be different.”  But it never is.

As for the Gaia pattern, it is fairly simple and easy-to-follow, although I did have a  patch towards the end in which I somehow kept coming up short on the stitch count, and could not for the life of me find where I'd muffed it, so had to rip it back more than once, an unpleasant chore with clingy Noro.  I do like the little wings-of-Horus curls at the tips, I must say.

Dimensions approx. 49 in./125 cm across the long edge, 20 1/2 in./52 cm down the line of increases -- a good neck-scarf size, though not particularly generous.

I had the dickens of a time with this "3-st picot-point bind-off", though, and puzzled over it much of the morning.  I don't know if it was my brain that was still trying to wrap itself around the knit-back-backwards concept and thus got stuck on anything and everything, or if the wording in the instructions was unclear, but from the very start I was having problems.  I wasn't so sure that the KBB instructions I could find online (as directed in the pattern) were particularly clear either.

(In desperation, I looked at the Swedish translation, thinking that it might somehow make more sense, but the translator avoided the whole issue and included only the knitted bind-off.  Insert mild oath in Swedish here.)

I ended up figuring it out by craning over to watch the RS as I worked a few purls on the wrong side -- "okay, so that goes here, that goes there," etc. etc. etc.  And, lo and behold, the KBB is a neat little trick: Insert LN into back of last st on RN, wrap yarn around LN from back to front, then catch yarn with tip of LN and bring it through the st (you may have to use your left index finger to pull down on the yarn a little and make it easier to catch), and remove RN from prev st.

Here is Gilmour's version of the 3-st picot bind-off: "k2, b/o 1st st, [k 3x (fbf) into yo, sl1 as to kbb, kbb 2 sts, b/o 3 sts, k 1, b/o 1] repeat between brackets to final st".  And here is how I read this:

K2, pass 1st st over 2nd, *K3 into next st (which here will always be the YO of the previous row), sl last st on RN tbl to LN, KBB2, BO next 4 sts (including st currently on RN, and here ending with the K2tog of the previous row), rep from * to last st, cut yarn and draw through last st.  Since the sequence on the Gaia actually ends with the 2 K sts of the border, and not the yarn-overs, I worked the end with a K2tog just before the last st to get it to lie a little more smoothly.

Honeycomb

Since I'm obviously on a roll with long-abandoned projects, I picked up this one yesterday --

 

Honeycomb from Knitty, in Elsebeth Lavold Silky Wool.  I printed the pattern on March 26 ... 2008.  Got to the top of the ribbing, did the first row of the pattern stitch and paused, uncertain about the honeycomb itself, and there it has remained for nearly two years.  Tch.

Remembering the very first row of cabling essentially every stitch one at a time, I thought yesterday, "well, that will never do," and dug out the instructions for left and right twists.  Much easier. 

So instead of C2B, do the RT: K2tog but do not remove sts from needle, K first st again and slip both sts off needle together.  And instead of C2F, do LT: K second st tbl but do not remove it from needle, K first st and slip both sts off needle together.  Easy peasy.

I'm still not wildly enthusiastic about the honeycomb stitch, but it goes quickly, with just K2, P2 rows on the wrong side and mostly K rows on the right, and every now and then what, without even thinking about it, I started calling the twizzle row.

Not twizzles, but I like this couple, Meryl Davis and Charlie White of Michigan, in the free dance Sunday evening.

Thoughts on the Three-Rib Beret

 
I did not make the Knitting Olympics this year, but am rather wishing there was an event for Finishing, as I've somehow managed to wrap up two long-neglected projects in two days -- the Vintage Velvet Scarf (still drying) and this one, the Three-Rib Beret, from an article by Jacqueline Fee in the November/December 2009 "Piecework" magazine.

The moment I saw this darling hat, I thought of some Jaeger Matchmaker DK I've had in the drawer for quite a number of years -- this is shade 656 Cherry, not that it matters any more, I suppose, because it's been discontinued, curse them.  A terrific yarn.

I had to enlarge the pattern, as it was far too small as written for Julia's impressive noggin.  I cast on with 102 sts, increasing to 204 for the st st section, dec to 180 and then 90 for the K5, P5 section, and down again to 36 for the K2, P2 top; I did each section 2 rounds longer than in the pattern, to keep the balance more like the original.  Julia says it's a bit small, but okay -- but I'm not concerned by her coolness, as she hasn't taken the thing off since I sewed on the last pompom last night.

Had to use 2 skeins, but got to try out the Russian join which worked pretty well.

It doesn't look like much flat, but on a head it is incredibly cute, and with pompoms almost irresistable!

Thoughts on the Vest for a Fiancé

Ta-da! at last, the Vest for a Fiancé, from Knitting With a Smile by Inger Fredholm of FredholmKnitting.  I started this nearly a year ago, let it sit over the summer when it was just too hot, and then picked up again in a rush hoping it would be done by Christmas or so.  I did get the knitting itself done in early December, but lost heart at the finishing, then gave myself a talking-to last week and dug it out again.

I want to love this book -- I want to love this pattern.  I like it a lot, but I'm annoyed at some little things about it that kept me from loving it with quite the abandon I wanted to.  Be warned straight off that this pattern at least assumes a considerable amount of experience -- which in all fairness she warns about ahead of time -- but there is little information about finishing and nothing at all about steeking.

The style is very colloquial, which I think may make it a little difficult for those knitters extending themselves with a pattern a little harder than they are used to. There are a few little typos in the Vest for a Fiancé at least -- a cast-on and 7 back-and-forth rows gets you to the RS, do the picot at the hem and armholes K2tog, yo but around the front edges P2tog, yo (well, I assumed that was a typo, and did it K2tog, yo). 

I centered both the front and back patterns, as it bothered me that they weren't already. Luckily, the patterns themselves were so pleasing to my eye even at the time that this was only a minor cavil.

(The color in the top photos is more accurate than in the bottom ones.  The sunlight was rather tenuous; perhaps that was it.  My camera seems to get a little over-excited when it has to do reds, too.)

I also added a row of the white "fleur de lis" across the shoulder and back of the neck, as in the photo of the original vest, not the one knitted for the book -- I just thought it looked more finished that way.

I think that the front edge band is a bit too big.  I thought so from the moment I cast it off, but sewed it up anyways because I was, well, I can't say heartily sick of the thing, but I just really wanted it to be finished.  It didn't look too big after some energetic blocking,, but I think it probably could be worked smaller.

As I said, there are no instructions as to steeking and finishing, so of course I poked around on the internet beforehand, starting with Eunny's justly-famous Steeking Chronicles.  She was (at least at the time) quite set against machine-sewed steeks, and argued so logically that I was reluctant to do them that way.  I had, though, already bought the Smart wool, which is superwash, and Eunny noted (somewhere in there) that you can't do a crocheted steek on superwash as the fibers are too slippery.  I also found comments there and elsewhere from Norwegians and friends-of-Norwegians who said they'd done machine-sewed steeks for years with never a problem with loose stitches or stiffness -- so I thought, right, well --! and just went for it, following for the most part some advice from KidsKnits on steeking.

So here are a few things that I learned:

Join all new colors/balls in the middle of the front opening steek.  Do not be tempted to join anywhere else in order to save that arm's length of wool.  If all of the ends are in the front, they will be trimmed away like magic when you cut the steek, and you will not have to weave in all of those fiddly ends.  And I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't think of this much earlier!

The Vest for a Fiancé steeks are far too big, especially the one at the neck.  They vary widely in width; I've no idea why.  I wanted the cut edges to be hidden under the folded hem, so had to re-reinforce the wider ones with the sewing machine and trim them again.  Yeah, I should have thought of that first, too, because I thought "this is huge" even as I was working it -- 25 sts for the neck steek compared to 7 for the front opening and 11 for the armholes.  I did actually stitch two cutting lines, and cut the neck steek much closer to where I wanted it, but overestimated the first time around.  (The wool I "saved" by not joining new balls in the front, I lost by having to cut away a 2x4"/5x10cm  piece at the neck.)  Seven sts would probably be fine for each of the steeks -- although I will say that I don't yet have that much experience with them, so am happy to hear other advice.  It looked as though Elizabeth Zimmermann's "kangaroo pouch" trick would have worked perfectly here.

I tried not to have any floats longer than three stitches.  This was a real bother, but I think it paid off --

 

I'm actually rather pleased with the facings.  I had seen somewhere -- stupidly, either forgot to bookmark it or didn't put it in the right call number in my internet bookmarks (yes, my bookmarks are cataloged in Dewey Decimal order) -- that the traditional method of sewing down the facing is with an X-stitching on the inside, but upon sitting at the kitchen table with a blunt darning needle in very bright light, couldn't quite see how to do this without it showing on the right side.  The bottom hem facing had gone on surprisingly easily (I think I've only ever knitted them in before this!), with a kind of whipped stitch.  Since the cast-off edge of the front band had the "chain" running neatly along the edge, I took advantage of that and made sure that my hand-stitches went into the middle of each "link" and thus are completely invisible.  A neat trick -- I'm sure I'm not the first one to have thought of this, either.

These photos, I must say, show the wonders of blocking.  I was a bit dismayed with the gauche charm of the thing, still delighted with the colors and the patterns but just not quite sure that it was all going to come together, as it were -- and yet after it was all stitched up and the ends snipped off or sewn in or tucked away, everything just sort of settled down most amazingly.

The machine-sewn steeks, I must say, are quite flexible, not stiff in the least.

Actually, now that a week or so has passed, I'm beginning to forget the annoyances, and just remember the fun of it.  It's not a particularly flattering shape -- the shoulders especially -- but I love the colors, I still love the flowers on the front and the "stars" on the back, and the smart border between the two, and the dashes of white at the hem....