A neighbour died violently in Drummond Place yesterday, in a bizarre accident or (much less likely) even more bizarre suicide. We had police and blue tape here for hours. He was a young father, a tennis player, much liked. This was within 24 hours of the news from Virginia, dispiriting reminders both of the utter horror that lives so close under the surface of a peaceful day. Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds, eh, Candide?

I’m halfway through row 194 of the Princess shawl border. 193 had no lace elements in it at all – perfectly plain, and so boring it was hard to finish. (I knew it was coming, because I had read about it in Cathy’s blog – see sidebar.) I couldn’t have knit this baby if it had been garter stitch all the way. There will be seven plain rows to do before the border is finished, and it’s not a pleasant thought. 194 is agreeably difficult, I'm glad to report.

Want to feast your eyes on lace? Have a look at this. Laritza, if you’re here today, accept I beg you my astonished congratulations.

I allowed my mind to wander, the other day, over the question of how to block my Princess if I ever finish her. I don’t think there’s enough unencumbered floor space anywhere in this house except in Major Traffic Areas. My only hope is what we call the “box room” in Kirkmichael, the upstairs part of a recently-built extension, used for keeping children in.

However, it’s not a problem for the immediate future.

Comments

Thank you all for the kind remarks about the Calcutta Cup sweater. Laurieg, teenagers eventually get to be twenty-somethings, and come home to sweater-wearing, but it takes a while.

And for your remark about the out-of-printness of Amedro, Alice. I often marvel at how pricey various books have become which I bought new because I wanted them (i.e., not for investment purposes). My Starmores are a good example. I even own Principles of Knitting – I swapped an early Rowan magazine for it, with a Knitlist reader. She warned me that I’d never use it, and she was right, whereas the Rowan magazine (No. 4, I think) was stuffed with good things.

I have a signed first edition of Glorious Knitting, but I think it has been so often reprinted that I probably won’t be able to retire on the strength of it.

Non-Knit

My Achievable for today is to work out when we can go to Kirkmichael. There are a couple of awkwardly-placed Edinburgh engagements looming -- Sotheby's Scottish Sale, and election day.

It was hot in London – June. Tee-shirt weather. Irises and lilac and even roses were in bloom. Unnatural. We had a good time, saw a lot of art and family and some old friends, and are profoundly glad to be back. A few days’ R&R, and I hope we’ll be fit to go to Strathardle and start planting seeds.

The Calcutta Cup sweater fits fine and looks great. I think it has to be put down as a success. Only trouble is, given the thermal qualities of Fair Isle and the effects of climate change, he’ll never have a chance to wear it.

I made pretty good progress with the merino-cashmere-bison down bed socks (from Wild Geese Fibres), my current travel project. The finished object feels remarkably soft and cosy, but the experience of knitting isn’t quite the effect of knitting-with-chocolate that you might expect. The yarn twists back on itself; and is inclined to split, so you’ve got to watch

out.

I was far too tired to pick up the Princess last night, so I went on with the Little Boy Sweater, finishing the ribbing for the second sleeve. I think I have succeeded in starting the handpainted yarn at the right point, so that the two sleeves will be close to identical.

But today life-is-real-life-is-earnest must resume. No more cider until Sunday. And Princess-knitting.

Comment

Sue in CT, I had no idea that Gladys Amedro’s book “Shetland Knitting” is not to be had – but you seem to be right, alas. I thought we could get anything on Abebooks. It might be worth listing it with them, so that they can send you an email when a copy turns up. Would it be worth writing to the Shetland Times? It certainly deserves to stay in print.

We’re off this morning. I’ll be brief.

The first little-boy sleeve is finished and attached. I’ve started the ribbing for the second wrist, and will resist taking it along to finish on the train. If there is one thing I have learned from my husband in half a century of married life, it is: travel light.

Thank you for the information about togas, and for that link, Vivienne. I am surprised at myself to realise that I have spent so much of my life in the company of togas, so to speak, without ever knowing or even wondering what shape they were at night.

Tamar, an “orange segment” would be a solid figure, wouldn’t it? And we’re really in plane geometry here – I think your “section of a circle” was better.

Ted, thank you for the endorsement of Sam the Ram. He’d have a certain local appropriateness, too, as there are far more rams than mermaids in Strathardle. I think he’s likely to be the one.

I’m sorry to hear that you’re having eye trouble, and hope the optometrist gets you back to Princess-knitting p.d.q. I’d have thought the Princess border would be easy peasy compared to Hyrna Herbogar. (For which, see Ted's blog.) The last I heard – forgive me if I’ve got this wrong – you had actually mislaid your Princess; I’m glad she’s back within reach.

I’m sure I’ve reported here before that when I had my second (left-eye) cataract operation, at the end of the summer in 2005, I was doing the last third of the edging, and had finally mastered the pattern. While the surgeon toiled on, I recited it to myself in my head, using Amedro’s “cast” and “take” for YO and k2tog. The left eye proved slightly tricky, and I had time to get all the way through at least twice, I remember.

My plastic eyes are holding up splendidly, and I heartily wish you better vision soon.

Blogging should resume a week today, insh’Allah.

London tomorrow, so today will be a breathless course through hair-washing, banking, bill-paying, shirt-ironing and shoe-polishing, all at the last moment as usual. I sometimes wonder how I ever managed at all when I had four children to deal with however imperfectly, and a job. But the essence of the answer is easy: in those days, I didn’t have to cook lunch. It fills the day all by itself.

Thank you, as ever, for yesterday’s comments. Pooch, the bottom edge of the shawls under discussion is something of an arc, but we need a word to include the area within the shape. I think Tamar’s got it, with “a segment of a circle.” What do togas look like, shape-wise, when they’re not being worn? My only experience was at high school, and we used single-bed sheets.

That’s great news, Flavaknits, that k1 yarns is doing lace-knitting classes. It keeps getting better! Classes, and tables to sit at, are American imports which British LYS’s are at last cottoning on to.

I had a happy day yesterday with the little-boy-sweater. I should finish the first sleeve today – little boys (and girls), like trawlermen, do best with shortish sleeves. It is distressing how often one sees sleeves actually rolled up in pictures of designs for children. How long is that going to last in the sandbox?

I’m quite optimistic at the moment, too, about my new system of dividing the week between the Princess and a smallish project. I mean to carry on, not indefinitely but until early June, when I will, with gritted teeth, switch full-time to knitting a toy as my Games entry.

I had been thinking (as I’ve already said) of repeating a mermaid I knit once long ago. But Maureen suggested Sam the Ram, that recent day when we were having our happy yarn crawl. He involves some show-off knitting, she said. I’ve had a look at the pattern on-line, and am seriously considering him.

If anyone might be remotely in the area (central Perthshire) on the fourth Saturday in August, do consider joining us at the Strathardle Highland Gathering. Nearly 80 years will separate the oldest and youngest members of our party, and everybody seems to enjoy it. We plan to drive cars down to the ringside the night before, from which sustenance will be dispensed during the day. Come and have some cider.

Greek greets Greek this morning, I understand, by saying “Christ is risen” (in Greek, of course). To which the reply is “He is risen indeed”. This seems to me to make a lot more sense than “Happy Easter”. I greeted Mr Murtaza in the corner shop this morning by saying “Eid mubarak”, which is more usually said at the Festival at the end of Ramadan. He thanked me, and explained that he was a bit late opening up, because he had been hunting Easter eggs in the garden with his children.

Whether you’re celebrating anything or not, have a good day.

The Princess

Here she is, with the nodding seeds clearly to be discerned on either side of what I devoutly hope is the central “feather”. Never mind row-counts and percentages: the border patterns are clearly reaching a crescendo.

And it’s a good moment to pause, not least because I am becoming obsessive. I’m somewhere in row 192.

Janet, yes, there are 220 rows in the border. Then six plain. Then the 19-row insertion, which reduces the stitch-count from the current 865 to 647. Then the centre. Sharon doesn’t say how many rows that will involve. You start off with five stitches in the middle, and knit back and forth picking up one from the border each row. 647 minus 5 leaves 642 stitches to be picked up row-by-row. And then the top must be finished off with that fiendish edging.

This is ridiculous.

One cheerful thing, though. The current ball of yarn is beginning to look and feel a bit subdued. Here it is, compared to a fresh one.

Kathy took her border off the needles and stretched it out for photographing – the link is in my sidebar. At the moment, mine is just an enormous rectangle. She’s well advanced with the centre.

I have been thinking of the finished object as a big triangle. But getting my lace-knitting webpages straightened out last week took me back to Gladys Amedro’s “Cobweb Lace Wrap”, a favourite pattern. It, too, feels like a triangle while being knit, but the finished object, judging from my photographs, is rather similar in shape to the Princess herself, judging from the Museum of Scotland picture in that huge URL I quoted some entries back.

You can’t call it an oval, because the top edge is straight. You can’t call it a semi-circle, because the top edge is longer than the distance from top to bottom. Does anyone know the geometrical name of the shape? It’s a “)”, rotated. It seems to be a good shape for wearing, in Amedro’s version.

I’ve started row 188 of the Princess border. The Nodding of the Sprouting Seeds is well underway.

It was a wee bit trickier than I anticipated. The nodding bit was more or less OK, but what I hadn’t noticed until the last minute is that some new motifs were introduced in row 184, and asymmetricality is involved there, too. The motifs are perfectly symmetrical, and indeed familiar, but their arrangement, this time, is not: if they are behind a Sprouting Seed which is nodding in the other direction, there are two of them; only one, in front.

So I struggled a bit, and peered at the charts in a way I haven't had to do since I finished the edging, but things have settled down all right now, I think. The secret is simply to start every row, even or odd, from the right-hand side of the chart. In the middle of the central “feather”, turn around and knit back in the other direction. It seems to work.

The nodding will all be over pretty soon – row 192 will see the end of it. I probably won’t have reached it by tomorrow, but I should have done enough that the effect will be apparent in the picture I hope to take of the week’s work.

That’s about it. I didn’t get any more website done yesterday.

Kate (yesterday’s comment), the journey to London by train isn’t too bad: between 4 ½ and 5 hours, plenty of time to knit. We flew a couple of times, one winter when the rail line had been broken by floods, and found that it takes us just about as long, by the time we’ve bussed out to the airport, checked in early as is now required, actually travelled to London, had something to eat at Luton airport (my husband’s diabetes means that regular meals are essential; they’re a good idea anyway); and finally taken a direct but lengthy train ride from Luton to Streatham where Rachel lives. From where we live here in Edinburgh, we can walk to the station.

Night trains still exist. Alexander will be taking one to Glasgow next week, to see to some arrangements connected with moving his family there – to a house not far from k1 Yarns. They must have to slow the train down a bit, to accommodate the sleepers.

(I just wandered around the K1 website for a moment, clicking only on yarns I’ve never heard of. She obviously works hard at seeking out small-scale Scottish suppliers, and has some very exciting stuff. I can’t wait.)

Lace alphabet

The big news is in the first comment yesterday -- susoolu says that that issue of Piecework with Bridget Rorem’s alphabet, is still available from Interweave. If you think that ever, under the most remote imaginable circumstances, you might want a knitted lace alphabet, buy it now.

And I have just spent a pleasant quarter-hour reading susoolu’s blog instead of writing this one.

Knitting etc

I’m nearing the end of row 183 of the Princess border – the asymmetrical fun is about to begin. I have decided to carry on with it not only today but also tomorrow, and then take the “weekend” of little-boy-sweater-knitting on Sunday and Monday, before going to London on Tuesday. It saves a certain amount of backing-and-forthing. Switching projects, in any direction, involves a brief but uncomfortable period of readjustment for both mind and fingers. It might as well be kept to a minimum.

Also, the little-boy-sweater goes better with cider.

Do have a look at Kathy’s blog – link in sidebar. She’s getting on splendidly with the centre of her Princess, and also seems to have time for a hefty amount of other knitting. How is it done?

I think I’ve finished replacing the lace element on my new website. Perhaps I’ll get started on “Other Knitting” today.

Gardening

Neither of us is much looking forward to London, but there is Art to be Seen. Spring is suddenly here – today is the 3rd day of it – and we’d both rather be in Strathardle. I have tried to assuage the longing by planting Misticanza di Radicchio seeds in a trough on the doorstep, but it doesn’t help much. My potatoes, which have been chitting in the dining room for a month or so, are now rarin’ to go, and I hate to ask them to wait another fortnight. (The labels identify five different varieties, and will probably be misplaced on the journey north.) It’s not just the going to London, it’s the coming back exhausted to a knee-high pile of mail and a week’s laundry.

Comments

Toni, I removed yours. I have never done such a thing before. The Knitting Personality you mentioned is an occasional visitor here, and I was very anxious not to cause pain.

Theresa, yours startled me, but on reflection I think you were absolutely right. Some people are always going to irritate us, in face-to-face life, in the virtual world, among the famous. It rarely if ever is a good idea to talk about it, at least where anyone might hear. And especially here, where my job is to write about knitting.

I shall reserve the right to be as rude as I like about irritating politicians, however.

A lace alphabet

I got a plug from Franklin this week, temporarily doubling my readership. It was about a knitted lace alphabet, and I think some people may have come here in search of one, and gone home to the Panopticon disappointed.

I can’t help. What I once did, in gratitude for his direct responsibility for Scotland’s 2006 winning of the Calcutta Cup, was introduce Franklin to Bridget Rorem’s knitted lace alphabet in Piecework magazine, May/June ’98. I did some googling yesterday on both “knitted lace alphabet” and “Bridget Rorem”, and I think I can say with some assurance that the alphabet isn’t out there. Oh dear. “out there”. …isn’t available anywhere.

In this blog -- Feral Knitter: July 2005 – I found a reference to a forthcoming book from Bridget. That’s exciting news, and offers at least slim hope that the alphabet may one day be within our reach again. The Feral Knitter is coming up “unavailable” this morning, but she was fine yesterday.

And from this one, which is working -- Gail's Good Yarn – I learned of a Debbie Bliss eyelet alphabet in “The Baby Knits Book”. I don’t have the book, but the alphabet is illustrated in the blog. Scroll down.

It’s beautiful, but the letters are perforce rather large. The difficulty with lace and the alphabet is that you can’t put two or more yo’s next to each other or directly above each other– and quite a few letters involve vertical or horizontal lines. (Any of us could devise a colour alphabet.) Bridget’s solution is brilliant, and it deserves to be permanently available. There will be a small but steady demand forever. If I knew her email address, I’d write to her. We did correspond once, and I know she is approachable and generous.

And meanwhile…

I have finished row 180 of the Princess border. 181, Sharon says, is where the nodding motifs begin. I can see a major change here, but I cannot detect any actual asymmetry until row 184. Proceed with caution.

I got the First Holy Communion veil onto my website yesterday. The next target is the Amedro Christening set, complete with Bridget Rorem lettering and Calcutta Cup. Angie (comment yesterday) you must never feel guilty about not knitting anything. That’s the whole point. Knitting is the world into which we withdraw and live at peace.

Janet, we will have the primrose as the March picture on the projected Burnside calendar. I am desperately touched that anyone should be interested. Details on my website, link in sidebar.

There’s a new entry on my sister’s family blog (sidebar) – I like multiple-author blogs a lot, I’ve decided. The Knit Sisters is/are another good one.

As for knitting, there is, as usual, little to report. I have made a start on row 178 of the Princess border. Row 176 was the 4/5’s mark, 80%. Somehow, whichever way you put it, it only serves to emphasize how far there is to go. The next landmark, not far away, will be the nodding of the sprouting seeds.

I am devoid of other thoughts, this morning. I got a set of Real Photographs back from the processor yesterday – I hardly ever take any, any more, and the film had been in the camera for more than a year. But I still prefer them for archival purposes, to put away with my knitting notes.

Here – we must have seen it before – is the First Holy Communion veil I knit for James’ and Cathy’s daughters in Beijing a year ago. (Notice the initials: I'm rather proud of them: "RM" for Rachel Miles, who has already worn it; "KM" for her little sister Kirsty.) Maybe my target-for-today can be to add that page to the website: I don’t think there are any patterns for communion veils “out there” (a much-used phrase these days which irritates my husband endlessly) and my notes explain, at least, how to set about it.

I’ve added a bit more lace to the website. Once one gets going, it’s almost as hypnotic as Princess-shawl-knitting – let’s eliminate just one more typing error, and WHY doesn’t the improved version show up on the internet? The shawl herself has reached row 175.

Veil Stitch

Interestinger and interestinger… Even if, like me, you wonder if you’ll ever have time to pursue the matter, do have a look at the Tsarina's blog for the latest twist (sorry).

I’ve now read both Mary Thomas’ Book of Knitting patterns and Barbara Walker I on the subject. They do the stitch the same way (I think) and it sounds hard. If I ever do try it – and I’d love to – I think I would start with Mary Thomas, because the demonstration drawings are excellent, to try to get a grip on what’s going on. And then proceed to the Tsarina’s and her commenter Pam’s improvements. I’m sure there must be an interesting difference, too, between working it back and forth and working it in the round, as the Tsarina says. Back and forth will be a bit twistier, presumably.

Other comments

The new Vogue book does sound interesting, Helen. As it happens, I was re-reading the winter VK in my bath yesterday morning (a life-long practice, resulting in the fact that most of the original VKBs in my collection – the ones I bought off newsstands when they came out – are in deplorable condition) – the winter VK, I say, and discovered, or re-discovered, the paragraph about the book you mention. Of course I must have all the contents somewhere or other in my VK pile, but goodness knows where, and the link you gave offers a tempting price.

On the subject of VKBs – I am trying, but not very hard, to buy an American one from the 50’s to compare patterns. In those days, the American and the British Vogue Knittings were two separate publications, with a considerable overlap of patterns. I want to find out whether all the patterns (and their photographs) were identical, and which side of the pond they appeared on first. I was outbid for something last night. I’m not going to spend big bucks; anything from that period will do.

On Sunday evening, I was the high bidder for one, and the price was low – but eBay wouldn’t accept my bid because the seller was registered as not willing to mail outside the US and there wasn’t time (two minutes) to explain to her that she could send it to my sister in CT. So I’ve learned a valuable lesson: when one comes up that I really want (and British VKBs do continue to appear on the American list) I must get that matter straightened out with the seller in good time.

That’s good news, about the forthcoming Lucy Neatby DVD which will include the Magic Buttonhole. I must confess (shameful!) that we don’t have a DVD player, but that’s not an insuperable obstacle. We’ll be in London next week, insh’Allah, and I will ask Alexander and Ketki about international compatibility, just to make sure. They know everything there is to know about technology, and Ketki is American.

Odds and Ends

I did a bit of work on the website yesterday, and got the Amedro biography up. I’ve completely forgotten the password for my new space, but fortunately my FTP program seems to have retained it.

So, Monday morning. I finished the body of the Wallaby up to the armpits yesterday, cast on the first sleeve, and finished the wretched ribbing. Now I’m so keen to see what the yarn will do in this new situation that it’s going to be hard to lay it aside (according to my new schedule) and re-attach myself to the Princess.

Normally, I let the colours of variegated yarns behave as they please (and positively enjoy “pooling”) but this time I went to the trouble of winding a second skein so that I could leave the first one attached to the body. And I plan to start the second sleeve, when I get there, at the same point in the colour sequence as I did the first.

Beadslut, I don’t think I had ever heard of veil stitch. Wow! I am tremendously impressed with your progress. I started with the link you gave in yesterday’s comment, and got completely bogged down in what was meant to be the new, easy way of doing it. That’s what you’re doing, right? But at bedtime I had a look at Mary Thomas and I wondered if it might not be too bad the old way once (as you say) one had got into the rhythm of it. Whichever way, I love the stitch, and your socks are breathtaking.

Kristie, I had never done a sock club, either, before I signed up with The Yarn Yard that rainy day in January. The only problem now, is keeping up with it. I have the April yarn still lying around where I can see it. I ache to knit it – but when?

Why do I collect VKBs? Dunno, really. They were a most important influence on my Early Knitting Life. Way back then in the 50’s, there was nothing much else. No internet, no other serious magazines that I knew of, very few books, most of them called “Knitting for the Family”. The twice-yearly appearance of the VKB was a big event. I saved ‘em all, and read and re-read them. They were the first to publish a KF pattern. I remember it vividly, the seeing of it for the first time.

When it finally went down, in the late ‘60’s, I wrote to the then editor, Judy Brittain, and asked if I could buy any back copies. She replied kindly, but said no. I could buy expensive photocopies of particular patterns, that was all. Photocopying was cutting-edge technology in those days. But that’s not what I wanted.

The desire to get the old ones was born then, but the following years were lean. The Knitting and Crochet Guild had a clean-out of the library once: I got quite a few tatty old copies then. But it was only when I discovered eBay last year that serious collecting became possible.

I mean at least to study the early ones and make some notes about trends, when I’ve got a few more from the 30’s. When did Vogue first sanction knitwear for the evening, for example? And when was the last bathing suit pattern?

Somehow, yesterday, I stumbled on this blog and am fired with curiosity about Lucy Neatby’s magic buttonhole. Like many, I can’t make a buttonhole for beans. I gather from the Neatby website that it’s not in the public domain: you have to buy a pattern. Might be worth it.

We’re old, and set in our ways. It was a pleasure, yesterday, to get back into the groove.

I did get the wallaby pouch fused on the little-boy sweater, and am nearly finished with the body-up-to-the-arms. I’ll stick with it for today, perhaps even starting a sleeve. Love those colours, and the way they spiral. It’ll be fun to see what they do on fewer stitches.

I think I’ll try to stick with the Yarn Yard Wallaby at weekends, Princess Mon-Fri.

Meanwhile I’ve made a little progress with the current travel socks, Wild Geese Fibres' cashmere-bison-down-merino being wrought into bed socks for my husband. Not much to look at, delicious to handle. The train rides to and from Glasgow on Thursday advanced things to the first heel flap. I fear I may not have quite enough – I’ll do the toes in the left-over Yarn Yard Sock Club February yarn, if need be. Flame-coloured.

Catching up with comments…

Beadslut, could you point me precisely to the “veil stitch in the Bluestocking pattern”? I’d like to see what the problem is, at least. I wandered around a bit, but didn’t seem to be getting there.

Alice, yes, there’s no reason at all that I shouldn’t get my obituary of Gladys Amedro back onto my webpage. I’ll try to do that soon, and report back. I have neglected the webpages sadly, after finding a new webhost and mastering the problem of how to access it. Life seems to be a constant series of attempts to force a quart into a pint pot, and nothing much, except knitting, actually gets done.

Thanks for the sympathy and advice about my osteoporosis. I will certainly pursue that one. The hospital said to leave a little time for their instructions to my GP to filter through the system (it ought to be instantaneous, these days) so I thought I’d pencil in that job for mid-April. We’re going to London in Easter week; once we’re back, life can move forward. Including getting cracking on the vegetable garden. The drug I am to be prescribed is called alendronate, I believe, and it is said actually to arrest osteoporosis.

I don’t know what I’ll do about approaching the National Museum of Scotland to see the Princess shawl. But why not? Thanks for the encouragement and advice.

And back to knitting…

I’ve been wearing my Malabrigo vest these last few days. It fits nicely, and feels great, and is just the thing for these uncertainly vernal days. But it looks stupid, because the shoulder line is too long and droops down a couple of inches or more over the upper arm. Maybe I’ll knit it again (in a different and even more delicious Malabrigo yarn) and cut the armholes in properly.

Our friends have been safely delivered to Waverley Station.

Yesterday’s cultural outing was, in the end, not to Falkland Palace but to Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott’s wonderful house in the Borders, and to Melrose Abbey nearby, bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang. We had a grand time. I am very tired.

Not much knitting. I am nearly ready to fuse the wallaby pouch to the body. I think I’ll press ahead and do that, and maybe finish the body, before sinking back into the arms of my Princess.

One further note on Wednesday’s visit to the Museum of Scotland: the knitting showcase included a Fair Isle sweater, as I have mentioned. It was nearly 100 years old (1910). It is distinctly short in both body and sleeves – a sweater for a man to do some work in. It was folded so that I couldn’t see how the sleeves were attached to the shoulders, or how the pattern behaved at that interesting juncture. It had a round neck with stand-up Fair-Isle-patterned collar.

Many, many thanks for everybody’s kind messages yesterday. I’ll never have a readership like the Harlot’s and am happier with my faithful few. We hover around 250 on weekdays.

Yesterday’s cultural outing was to Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery in Glasgow. It’s recently had a major overhaul and you never saw such a place for thematic arrangements, didacticism and noise. It’s also huge. They have a number of world-class paintings which we never even succeeded in finding, notably Whistler’s Portrait of Carlyle. Notably, I mean, among the ones we didn't see. We found some old favourites.

Nor did they seem to have any knitting to speak of, although it’s hard to say. I saw some pleasant socks from St Kilda in narrow dark and light stripes. They were made of “spun wool” said the label, without naming “knitting” as the process.

We are thinking Falkland Palace for today, but may be too exhausted to attempt it.

Readership down, weight up, and it’s raining – One of Those Mornings.

Surprise news, however, from yesterday’s cultural outing. One of our ports of call was the National Museum of Scotland. I hadn’t been there for quite a while, and made a point of going straight to the knitting showcase – Sanquhar gloves, a Fair Isle sweater, a 19th century Shetland lace shawl, a few machine-knit things.

And not just any 19th century Shetland lace shawl – the Princess herself!

To be precise: it was labeled as a copy of the shawl presented to Princess Alexandra in 1863. This one, the copy, was given in the same year to Miss Campbell of Jura, for her wedding, and later presented to the Museum by (presumably a different) Miss Campbell.

This provokes speculation about the identity of the knitter. Did the same woman knit it twice (a repetition, not a copy)? Or did she help a friend reproduce it? Either way, it must be the case that the original Princess shawl knitter was known to Miss Campbell, and probably connected to her by blood or love or both. And wanted her to have a princess’s shawl to wear on her wedding day.

Sharon Miller says somewhere, I think, that she believes she has located the Princess shawl knitter in the Report on the Truck System (see the passages in her Hap Shawl book) or the Statistical Account for Scotland. But I can’t find the passage. Could it even have been in a message to the Heirloom Knitting group? I could search the archives.

Anyway, when I got home I found a picture on the Museum of Scotland website. I don’t dare reproduce it, and I’m sure this URL won’t work:
http://nms.scran.ac.uk/database/record.php?usi=000-100-002-023-C&PHPSESSID=vnerd1s9e4am7cl919pvl4fmh3&scache=12ua08422w&searchdb=scran&PHPSESSID=vnerd1s9e4am7cl919pvl4fmh3.

(I've just tried it, and it does work. The sprouting seeds appear to nod away from the centre. Sharon's change is an improvement. )

I got it by googling on “Shetland lace shawl presented to Princess Alexandra in 1863” (without the quotation marks). The National Museum of Scotland was among the first dozen suggestions.

In the showcase, it was strategically folded so that you couldn’t see any of the cruces – the sprouting seeds and their nods, the insertion, the centre pattern. Perhaps if I wrote to the Curator of Textiles and said that I once spoke to Sharon Miller on the telephone….

I had always assumed that Sharon’s pattern was based on the actual presentation shawl in the Royal Collection (if it exists). But maybe she used this one. Her pattern is likely to be the most elaborate lace knitting pattern ever published, but it’s not a copy of the original Princess – it’s a simplification (!) and interpretation, a design of Sharon’s own.

The original was worked with finer thread (again, !) and has 16 ½ feathers instead of Sharon’s 11. The centre and edging are different, Sharon says, but similar in complexity and “feel”.

I knit round and round on the little-boy sweater yesterday, and sped forward. A week of this should advance things a good deal. Mrs. Friend from Boston, a knitter but not a fanatic, thought that The Yarn Yard Sock Club March offering with which it is being knit, was Japanese.

And the April yarn arrived. Natalie has done it again! The colour is (needless to say) not right in the photograph – in particular, the lightest shade is greener than it appears here. This month's solid yarn is not quite solid, but something Natalie calls "swirl". I long to have a go at ikat with this one.

My three-month subscription had run out, and I re-subscribed. I couldn't face a new month without a package from the Yarn Yard, even though I can't possibly keep up with the knitting.

Vogue Knitting Book 23, one of the Dutch war-time ones, went for £23 yesterday. I’d have bought it if it had been going cheap, because mine lacks its cover. That’s a decent price, although far from black-tulip. And my copy of No. 11 – the one I got for a fiver – turned up from Canada. It’s in better condition than its shabby cover suggests.

An eBay seller called sartyus (located in London) is selling some stunning American knitting magazines from the 20’s and early 30’s. I mustn’t let myself get distracted from the object of my pursuit, but these are really something.

Non-knit

I turned out to have slight-ish but measurable osteoporosis. There was some confusion about who I was, and I wonder if the message will ever get to my GP who needs to prescribe a wonder drug to prevent it getting any worse.

Not very far at all into row 171. I shouldn’t have started it.

One of those days when It’s All Happening…

Kristie, you were right! The package from the Schoolhouse Press turned up yesterday. I had completely forgotten what I’d ordered, so it was like getting a present. The answer is:

Invisible Threads in Knitting by Annemor Sundro
Anatolian Knitting Designs by Betsy Harrell and
Simply Shetland 2 &3 (why not 1?)

I had a whole bookcase built for my knitting books a couple of years ago, filling an otherwise unusable space in the passage. It’s full to bursting.

I’ve started with Invisible Threads. Sundro is the woman who rescued fragments of Norwegian sweaters from the pile in the rag factory and wrote “Everyday Knitting: Treasures from a Rag Pile”. She’s also the author of “Lusekofta fra Setesdal” which I seem to have in Norwegian – that must have been a Schoolhouse Press purchase. It is entirely devoted to the Norwegian lice-patterned sweater.

Invisible Threads meanders about through Norwegian history and traditions and symbols – I’m skimming. It is interspersed with simple and interesting patterns, Vibeke Lind-style. I was most interested to discover that the well known curse-of-knitting-for-the-boyfriend is part of Norwegian folk belief – don’t knit him a sweater until he proposes.

Other

Natalie writes that The Yarn Yard April Sock Club package is in the mail. It’s early because she’s going on holiday. So maybe today!

I read the American eBay Vogue Knitting list yesterday, as I have determined to do every Monday. Nothing for me, but I found three war-time VKBs on offer from a seller in the Netherlands. (I think she’d have done better to offer them on the British list.) How did they get there? I like to think of an intrepid Dutch Resistance worker asking London to slip the new VKB into the package which was going to be dropped to her in the dark of the moon.

Non-knit

I’m going to a hospital today for a scan to determine whether I have osteoporosis. Should be interesting. My husband will have to meet the friends from Boston off their train by himself.

Halfway through row 168. The next landmark, 4/5ths or 80%, will be row 176 – not too far away.

Kathy, I love the account of Princess-knitting in your blog, and will watch breathlessly for your account and photograph of the insertion and the beginning of the centre. You are weeks – months – ahead of me, but/and your progress is enormously encouraging. I do so agree that the Princess, at this stage, takes over one’s life.

Our friends from Boston will arrive tomorrow, so this is the last day in which I can cram the Princess into every otherwise-unoccupied 10 minutes. One can’t sit down and do just-one-row, but one can easily do just-one-pattern-repeat, and then why not just-one-more?

On ssk’s – I was astonished when Sharon’s book first appeared to discover that she doesn’t think it matters, in garter stitch with fine yarn, which way you do a decrease. I’ve been doing them all the way through the Princess in the way they are written: k2tog for / and ssk for \. Except that sometimes, due to yo’s in the preceding row, ssk can be tricky, and then I revert to k2tog without compunction.

Other…

I’m still worrying about the non-appearance of the books I ordered from Schoolhouse Press, probably three weeks ago today. There were two other books, ordered the same day from two different American booksellers found through Abebooks: both arrived promptly.

One is Annichen Sibbern Bohn, “Norwegian Knitting Designs”. I said here not long ago, I think, that I had never heard of it, but now that it is in my hands, I’m sure I have. A Norwegian knitting friend lent it to me once, decades ago, when we lived in Birmingham. It is a slim vol consisting pretty well entirely of photographs and charts, and it’s terrific.

My other new book is Solveig Hisdal’s “Poetry in Stitches”. This one is a coffee table knitting book in the modern style – patterns based on traditional Norwegian, carried dramatically forward, dramatically photographed. I have heard that Hisdal doesn’t actually knit, and that some of the patterns suffer thereby when one comes to get to grips with their execution. I have no idea whether this is true, and anyway the patterns are sufficiently elaborate (and glorious) that no one except a fairly experienced knitter would be bold enough to tackle them.

Approaching the antepenultimate marker on row 163.

Perhaps a picture tomorrow, when I should have finished row 165, the ¾ point of the border. I also will have added more than 20 rows since I resumed work last week.

I’ve been thinking about the Princess, and the vast amount left to do. We’re having a competition (which I won’t enter) in the Heirloom Knitting list to state our Heirloom Knitting Goals for ’07. Winner to be drawn from a hat, I think, but never mind. The point is: goals.

Alexander’s first job after university was with Royal Insurance. They sent him on a brief course once where he learned about Achievables. I don’t know about him, but I find it a useful life-concept to keep hold of.

The next thing to do with the Princess is to finish the border – 220 rows. I can do that this year, easily I think, if I keep chuntering on.

Then comes a 20-row insertion which has the effect of gathering the border in and reducing the total of stitches by ¼. That looks tricky. Sharon says to lay the work aside and practice on some waste yarn. I will certainly do so. I really ought to be able to achieve that, too.

Then, when the insertion has been successfully added, you put most of the stitches on waste yarn or whatever, and start again on five stitches in the absolute middle. The centre is then knit back and forth, taking in a border stitch at the end of each row. I think that comes into the Achievable in ’07 category, too. And since five stitches isn’t very many, even a couple of evenings’ work should establish the centre nicely.

So those are my goals for the year. That will leave a lot of Princess knitting to be done, but the big hurdles will be behind me. The centre pattern looks very straightforward, and the edging (for the top) is difficult, but known.

I came to a very pleasant point last night – the pattern actually became familiar. When Ketki was pregnant with (as events proved) James-the-younger, Sharon’s book was fresh out, and I designed and knit this shawl, in Lorna’s Laces “Helen’s Lace”. I offer it now as an example of how not to design a shawl – I crammed far too much in.

One of the things I crammed was Sharon’s “sprouting seeds” – they even nod to the left and right, towards the swastika in the centre of the border. Last night while Princess-knitting, I reached the bottom of the seeds, although it’ll be another 20 rows and more before they start nodding. It was a delicious moment of I’ve-been-here-before. The knitting is slightly tricky here, because yo and associated decrease are separated by several stitches. Not difficult at all, but counter-instinctive and requiring attention.

(That's the thistle of Scotland in the corner, and a rose trellis pattern in the centre for the baby's country-of-birth. The swastika is a powerful Hindu symbol of good fortune -- the word is Sanskrit. That's for Ketki.)

(I wish I knew how to put comments on a photograph, and draw lines around significant portions, the way Crazy Aunt Purl does. Blow me down! I just went to her blog to verify the link, and she has devoted her most recent post to that very question. She uses PhotoShop, is the short answer.)

Domesticshorthair, I always knit socks on 1’s. Incidentally, Maureen has inspired me to try the Magic Loop method. She says it’s much faster. I’ll give it a go.

I’ve launched myself onto row 159 of the Princess border.

I had a grand time with Maureen yesterday. As Mrs Moneypenny says in the FT today, of internet friendships, “Meeting people in the flesh is always a bit scary. What if you (or they) don’t live up to expectations? You develop an impression of people…and sometimes it is best not to spoil a relationship with harsh reality.”

We hit it off, and had a splendid time.

We have a lot of friends in common – people we know on-line. In many cases, one or the other of us (usually Maureen) had met the person in Real Life. Other friendships were wholly virtual. I have often thought about the virtual community provided by the internet, but had never been so struck as I was yesterday with how that community can intersect and enrich the real world.

We met at Drummond Wools, near the b&b where she is staying. I hadn’t been there for a decade or so, and won’t go again soon. It’s mostly sewing machines these days. Then we went on to HK Handknit, an excellent little shop which seems to get better every time I’m there. I had light-heartedly assumed that I was above temptation, but I’m always in the market for gents’ sock wool of interesting hues, and bought these:

(The light shade will be for a female person.)

Then we found a pleasant café and had coffee.

Here’s the cashmere Koigu. It was a slight disappointment – the colours are duller and flatter than they would be on wool. This must be the fault of the material, as we know they were dyed by the master’s hand. It is an interesting discovery. I have photographed them with an oddball of wool Koigu in a roughly comparable colourway and I think even allowing for the distortions of photography and computer monitors, you can see a hint of the difference.

Maureen brought me, as sheer good-natured gifts of friendship, these Knit Picks needles, said to be first-rate for lace, and this beautiful merino Knit Picks lace-weight yarn. I know that I mustn’t transfer the Princess border onto a new needle, but there is Victorian Lace Today and there is this wonderful new yarn and it could perfectly well be cast on to one of the new needles…

If only there were more hours in the day, and more days in one’s mortal span.

And, on that theme, thanks to everybody for the links to Malabrigo lace-weight. Thursday’s difficulty, carlarey, was clearly that hausofyarn inserts a dash in the phrase “Malabrigo – Baby Lace” and Google rightly refused to produce it when I insisted on the exact phrase.

And didn’t somebody suggest Webs? If so, it’s not there in the comments any more. But Webs does stock it. I probably would have ordered some on the spot if they hadn’t already sold out of the two colours I liked best.

And Handpaintedyarn has also got it, cheaper. I am embarrassed for choice, and (see above) underprovided with time.

In some haste, this morning…

I’m about to go on a yarn crawl, involving some sit-and-talk time I hope, with Maureen – who has (I hope) smuggled in some cashmere Koigu for me. We had hoped that Lorna could join us, but she’s stuck in Jedburgh. There are worse places.

First things first: Carlarey (yesterday’s comment), please tell me about Malabrigo Baby Lace. I googled to no avail at all, if I insisted in having all three words together in that order. My advice for your holiday, however, would be to leave it home and knit socks and enjoy the wine and the five funny people. Socks are always welcome, and I find that there’s something about the round-and-round’ness of knitting them that soothes away some of the horrors of transatlantic travel. If you must take the MBL along, I suppose the only possible pattern is feather-and-fan.

I’ve reached the early stages of row 155 of the Princess border. The next major landmark will be 165, the ¾ point.

How much longer do I have to go? I have a kind of a feeling that I sort of worked it out (and was horrified) during my last major Princess session. But put it this way: I bought ten dear little balls of gossamer merino (from Sharon, who ought to know). This week, I joined in the fourth of them.

The border, in the end, will form two (deep) sides of a triangle. The centre of the triangle and the top of it will be formed by the centre pattern, in the form of a triangular-shaped wedge, and the two ends of the border. And the top will then have to be edged with that not-easy edging. It’ll be interesting to see, if I ever get that far, whether my previous mastery of the edging will have been retained over the intervening years.

Sharon knit the whole thing in nine months, with intervals of laying it aside.

Other…

I have been thinking a little about Theo’s cashmere Koigu, of which the skeins I hope to acquire this morning are the outriders. When I got that IK out this week to look at the article about coaxing handpainted yarn into ikat patterns, I noticed a Koigu ad for a sweater in an all-over zigzag pattern: whatever you call feather-and-fan when the increases are done invisibly instead of with yo’s. And I thought maybe I’d go for a relatively unobtrusive all-over pattern. Estimating the amount of yarn needed is far easier with a single shade. It’s pleasant to think about.

I’m still waiting for the books I ordered from the Schoolhouse Press. We’ve had serious trouble lately with undelivered parcels, and I’m faintly worried.

Nearly half-way through row 151 of the Princess border (the markers between the colour repeats are colour-coded to let me know how far along the row I am). Fairly rattling along.

Thank you, everybody, for your kind comments about it. It’s really easy, believe me. No manoeuvres fancier than k3tog. Everything flows predictably from the preceding row. You do have to think about every stitch, just as you have to think what every word means in Latin or Henry James. And that’s what’s fun.

I was seized by a bit of a panic yesterday about how long this is taking – the last thing to think about while Princess-knitting. I started nearly two years ago, in May, ’05. At this rate I’ll be dead before it’s finished, or, perhaps even worse, the rising generation will start getting married while it’s still on the needles.

I see from its history, however – I keep a copy of Lotus Organiser entirely devoted to knitting; lots of interesting stuff there – that I have worked pretty steadily except for essential interruptions: a First Holy Communion veil for granddaughter Rachel in Beijing; a 70th birthday shawl for my sister; the broken arm; the Calcutta Cup ’06 sweater. I don’t at the moment foresee any such pressing necessity – well, except the get-Obama-elected cashmere Koigu for Theo, and that can wait a while. So the thing is to work steadily on.

Maybe the little-boy sweater could be assigned to weekends, like cider. We’re going to London for some more art in Easter week. Maybe I could take it along, instead of socks.

Non-knit

Yesterday was largely devoted to cleaning, in anticipation of our friends’ visit next week. They are easy-going and uncritical friends, but still their unaccustomed eyes will see dirt that I can overlook. The trouble with dirt, I don’t need to tell you, is that the more you remove, the more reveals itself.

I did it – I resumed Princess knitting, and the experience was fully as wonderful as I remembered. Like reading Latin or Henry James. I am currently employed in the early part of row 147 of the border.

Things become even more fun after row 180 when what Sharon Miller calls “sprouting seed” motifs appear on the top of the motifs to the left and right of the central “feather” in this picture. They look a lot like motifs on Paisley shawls. All the “sprouting seeds” must nod towards the central “feather” of the whole border; thus, half of them nod to the left, half to the right. It doesn’t look too difficult to me, but I know some Princess-knitters have found it tough.

The whole border has 220 rows. And that will leave, I fear, most of the shawl still to knit.

The pattern was published in a limited edition, 250 copies I think, and although it will eventually re-appear on the Heirloom Knitting site, for now, that’s all. I am constantly surprised at how many of us are actually knitting it, from so small a base.

I don’t know what to do about interleaving it with little-boy-sweater knitting. Alternating days doesn’t feel right: the Princess is so demanding an intellectual experience that one wants to remain immersed in it. For the moment, I don’t need to worry. The presence of our friends from Boston next week will ensure (I hope) that the little-boy-sweater makes great progress, and the Princess none. Then we’ll see.

Other knitting…

While we were in Strathardle last week, I at last got hold of the schedule of the Home Industries Tent for this year’s Games. The knitting is truly disgusting. The choice is between a “knitted toy” and a “teddy for tragedies” which has to be donated. A pattern is provided for the latter. Talk about choice.

The last time something like this happened, I took refuge in the Handicrafts section, where they asked for a “hat (any craft)”. I knit them a tammy, and won first prize. Which is not to be compared with winning a first in the Knitting section. But this year Handicrafts offers so such escape.

So I’ll have to knit a toy.

There’s a rather nice sheep in the brand new issue of Knitting magazine. The trouble with that is (a) I’d have to buy some fluffy novelty wool to represent the fleece and (b) all the competitors will see Knitting, or have it pointed out by friends.

I’m going to try to repeat this mermaid, which I knit for granddaughter Hellie in 1992 or some such year. She loved it to death, and might be glad of a replacement. I have got plenty of yarn in appropriate colours in stash, some probably left over from the original. And nobody else, I’m willing to wager, is going to knit a mermaid.

In a pretty untidy house, my knitting archives are in rather good condition, you may rightly conclude.

Ikat, etc.

Here’s the current state of the little-boy sweater, including the beginnings of the wallaby pouch. Attaching it was tough, even with the purl bumps to go by. I am all thumbs with a crochet hook in my hand. But the job has been successfully completed.

So today is the day to pick up the Princess.

Thanks for the help on ikat-knitting. Esther, you’re right, that’s the IK article I was thinking about – although I see when I look it up that it is about creating vertical stripes, not ikat. I googled, and got the excellent article you recommended, Anonymous. (Blogger has cut off the end of the URL in your comment, but the link just given will carry anyone interested to the spot.) Google also suggested a scarf pattern by Lucy Neatby.

I couldn’t find the Kim Salazar pattern. I think she is consolidating everything on the wiseneedle site – but I kept getting a pop-up which said I had won a Really Big Prize, and wouldn’t go away, so I fled without perhaps looking hard enough for the ikat pattern.

Clearly, some ikat-systems depend on the hand-painted yarn having equal lengths of each colour, which is not true of Yarnyard yard. But the article just mentioned by Estelle Carlson is based on the entire length of the repeat, from one loop of the skein to the next. Maybe I’ll play around a bit with the April Yarnyard offering.

VKB

Things have been incredibly exciting lately. In the last 16 days I have bought no fewer than eight rare, early copies, from six different sellers. Assuming the most recent purchases actually turn up, I now have all but 10 of the 69 issues in the original series. I am missing three war-time ones, and seven from the '30’s.

Last night I bought this one from a seller in Canada. I was the only bidder, and got it for the upset price of $9.99. That’s five pounds for the VKB of autumn, 1937. It’s obviously in shabby condition, but who cares? It’s got its cover. Clearly, I ought to be watching the American VK list; but there are hundreds of items on it, and it’s hard work. Delynne, a blog reader, spotted no. 11 for me. Thank you, and thank you.

And while we were in the country last week, my sister kindly bid for and got this one for me. It pains me to show you the picture. You can be sure I won’t treat it like that once it’s in my hands. It is the issue for autumn, 1944.

I hope (for the sake of my credit card, if nothing else) that that’s going to be all for a while. I can curl up with my treasures and study the evolution of the modern knitting magazine. The earliest VKB’s had neither a cover-picture of one of the delights within; nor a chatty introductory letter from the editor; nor multiple-sizing.

There will be reports to come.

Comments

Laritza, the yarn for Ketki’s gansey came from Jan at Frangipani. She was tremendously helpful – traditional 5-ply Guernsey wool is the only thing she sells, and there’s an excellent range of colours.

Helen, my mother too went a bit soft on Mother’s Day towards the end. I disapprove with every fibre of my being, but perhaps the same thing is happening to me – at any rate, Rachel always phones on Laetare Sunday. Neither of us makes any reference to the purpose of her call, but I’d miss it if it didn’t come.

Knitting…

I knit happily on, on the little-boy sweater. I don’t seem to have kept any notes about how to translate the Wonderful Wallaby pattern, which is written for worsted, into a finer yarn, but I’ve done it twice so it can’t be too difficult. The last time through someone suggested – and I wish I could remember who, to thank her again – putting in a line of purl stitches where the bottom of the wallaby pouch is going to be attached. Even with worsted, I found it very difficult to keep going in a straight line. So I’ve done that.

I like the way the colours are working out, a lot. But I’m going to leave it one more day before taking a picture. It’s not ikat, more a wonderful swirl. Natalie has warned me to be careful to wind each skein in the same direction. That is something I’m sure I’ve never heard of, but I think I can see what she means now that the knitting is underway.

There was an article somewhere once about getting ikat effects from a hand-painted yarn. Does anyone remember? It was probably in IK, probably in a general article about knitting with hand-painted yarn, not terribly recently. The general idea was that you coiled the yarn on the floor and measured the distance between repeats of the colour sequence and somehow incorporated the measurement in your knitting. It sounded like a lot of trouble when I read about it, and it sounds like trouble as I write it now, but I’d like to think about it again, now that I have discovered The Yarn Yard. I could try Google.

The books I ordered a fortnight ago are beginning to flow in, and there is still much to write about the Vogue Knitting Book, but I’m going to leave it all for another day. Since there’s nothing to illustrate this morning, I’ll quit with the usual picture of My Garden. Nothing much is happening under the rhubarb-forcing pot, but I got a few spadesful of earth turned over, and humped a load of manure in – you can see it piled up – and prepared four of the eventual eight stations for courgettes: that’s them under the plastic water-bottles.

Laetare Sunday

Knittingkate, I had always assumed that “Sassenach” meant “Southerner”, on no evidence – yesterday I looked it up, prompted by your question. It is a Gaelic-speaker’s word for “Saxon”. Apparently Irish Gaelic uses it too, and the Welsh have a related word. So, strictly, it has to mean the English only, perhaps even including the lowland Scots.

Here we are back again. We had a nice time, although spring has not made many inroads in Strathardle yet. There was no new floral display to incorporate in my March calendar effort, so here is a picture of my husband working on a weedy border in front of the house. Just as we were leaving I spotted our primrose in bloom, so that is another possibility.






We passed many daffodils on the way up, but ours are not out yet. I picked a few yesterday morning to bring back, however.

Ketki’s gansey progresses. It is beginning to seem endless, but this time I really did polish off Mrs Laidlaw’s pattern. There remain only a few nearly-plain rows and the front is finished. Then we have provisional casting-on, shoulder straps, neck gussets, all the fun of the fair. One day Alexander will have to take a proper picture to show off the surface texture.



Look at that cone! The knitting may be taking forever, but this time I finished off a whole cone and attached the next one. It was gratifying to be reminded how big they are.

We were back yesterday in time for the rugby. Ireland beat Italy, predictably, in Rome. France beat Scotland, thoroughly, in Paris. Scotland has not had a very good season. Until yesterday, neither had Wales; they had even managed to lose to Scotland. The last match of all yesterday was Wales v. England, in Cardiff. And Wales won. I’m afraid everybody in the Six Nations enjoys beating England (and seeing England beaten) most of all, so it was a grand climax to the day and to the season.

While I watched, I went on with the ribbing of the Wallaby sweater for a little Miles boy in The Yarn Yard’s March club offering. It was one of those days – we’ve all been there – when I seemed to rib and rib and rib with no result. Three times around, at least, for every round added to the work. But at last I finished, and attached the hand-painted yarn. (The ribbing is in the solid yarn.) I hope to do enough today to see how it’s going to work. I’m hoping for a sort of ikat effect.

Old friends from Boston are coming next week, and the Princess, for all her charms, is not company knitting. So a couple more days of this to get things thoroughly started. I think I’m a little bit afraid to pick up the Princess – can I still do it? Will I still enjoy it? But I felt those hesitations after the last long interval; I think I’ll be all right.

There’s lots of news on the VKB front. Soon.

I’m sure I explained about Laetare Sunday at tedious length last year, so I won’t go into it all again. One word shall suffice: cider.

We’re planning to go to Strathardle today – back in place on Sunday, insh’Allah. Daffodils are everywhere in Edinburgh; I hope we’ve got one or two there, for my March calendar picture. The weather forecast is good. My seed order has arrived. The potatoes are chitting in the dining room, not far from the Calcutta Cup ’06 sweater.

I blocked it as hoped, yesterday, and that’s a final picture of it until we see it on Alexander. I got the bit of extra girth I wanted in the blocking. I’m really quite pleased. The whole fun of blocking is going to visit and enjoy the result from time to time as it lies on the dining room floor.

This is a picture of Sunday’s and Monday’s work, securing those ends.

Ron – and everybody who has left a kind comment – this kind of knitting is really easy, once you have mastered knitting continental with the left hand and English with the right, and weaving, where necessary, as you go. I can’t knit continental with only one yarn, for some reason; but with two, there’s nothing to it. I learned, mysteriously, in the 60’s, from Mary Thomas’ Knitting Book, which has instructions for the weaving process. I don’t carry floats over more than three stitches, usually only two. The result is very tight, and needs a largish needle in compensation.

Then last night – not what I said I’d do next – I cast on for a Wallaby for a little Miles boy, with the The Yarn Yard yarn that Natalie dyed for me specially. It’s nice to knit with. I got about an inch done, maybe less: I committed the Fatal Error of picking up the work at a very early stage and setting off in the wrong direction. I guess it can happen at any stage, at least with ribbing. The mistake has been frogged and redeemed.

The link in that paragraph is to her page of one-off yarns. I covet that brickwork-and-lichen combination, but I Must Be Strong.

My plan remains to alternate small-boy-Wallaby and Princess, once I get the former established.

Other…

This is exciting news, that Eunny is to be editor of IK. The Curmudgeon says that the present editor, Pam Allen, is going to Classic Elite as creative director. She’ll be lost to me, in that position, and I’m sorry to see her go. The same sort of thing happened to Nancy Thomas, I think – former editor of both VK and Knitter’s. Another great editor.

But I hugely look forward to the day when Eunny picks up the reins. She is a brilliant and meticulous designer.

I bought VKB No. 13 yesterday, autumn 1938. I paid a lot, as I now expect to do for a pre-war issue. (For months and months, there were no VKB’s on offer of interest to me – suddenly, they’re as common as mail-order catalogues.)

The sale closed at 16:02 or something like that. I was so wrung-out when it was over that I didn’t even want to go back and watch the end of the match between England and France. It was a good one, but I couldn’t take any more excitement. England won.

Knitting

I surprised myself by finishing the loose-ending and grafting last night. The Calcutta Cup ’06 sweater is done except for blocking, which I hope to accomplish this morning.

Rosesmama, here’s a rather blurry image of the raglan shaping. I kept one stitch from the sleeve and one from the body in the background colour (whatever it happened to be) on every round. After joining body and sleeves, I knit about an inch straight, which was a mistake. I then decreased every other round, one stitch on each side of each raglan line, eight stitches in all eliminated on every decrease round.

Until the whole thing was so long it was time to stop, and get rid of the rest of the stitches in the neck border.

And, yes, isn’t Eunny's sweater absolutely wonderful? I meant to say so yesterday. Presumably we’ll see more of it in Jamieson’s Shetland Knitting Book 4. I can’t wait. Like you, I couldn’t possibly wear it, and wouldn’t trust myself to get the fit for a daughter or daughter-in-law who could: but I can still gasp in admiration. Interesting that she steeked that whole neckline.

I was very interested, too, in what you said about knitting socks-within-socks and the famous passage in War and Peace. I think I read somewhere once that no one could figure out how the fictional character did it – but now we know that you could and did.

Jean, the instructions in VKB No. 2 achieve a lined baby sweater by alternating wools as well as stitches: 1st row: in white, knit 1, bring wool to front of needle, slip 1, bring wool across front of slipped stitch to back to needle. Repeat throughout row. 2nd row, using pink but still on the right side of the work so you must have slipped the stitches back to the beginning of a dp needle, Slip the stitch knitted in the previous row, bring wool to front of needle, purl the stitch slipped in the previous row, bring wool to back to needle. The 3rd and 4th rows are done from the wrong side. In the 3rd you’re purling the white stitches, and in the 4th, knitting the pink ones. Clear as mud?

Maralyn and Tamar, thanks for bringing me up to speed on “URL”. I live quietly, and don’t talk to people who have need to mention such things, so it all goes on in my head. I have always said “earl” to myself, and so of course I wrote “an URL”. Alexander moves somewhat more in the real world, and was clearly right to pick me up on it.

Lene, if you’re still here, I really like your striped sweater. That ribbing at the side looks like a good idea. Do you have a formula for how much to put in?

The match was a thriller – Scotland lost by one point.

I finished knitting the Calcutta Cup ’06 sweater. The neckline came out better than I expected. I’ll leave it for now. We’re going to London in early April (alas!) and it can be tried on Alexander then and comments solicited from the whole party.

“Finished knitting” does not, of course, mean “finished”. I’m working on the ends – I’ve done both sleeves and am inching up the side. At least Fair Isle isn’t as bad as tidying up after Kaffe. (Yes, I weave the ends in as I go, but I never trust them not to un-weave themselves, so I secure them anyway.) Then there are the underarm stitches to be grafted, and the blocking. Fair Isle isn’t as malleable at the blocking stage as sweaters knit in single yarns, but I hope to be able to get a little bit more width on both body and sleeves.

Double knitting

The link Natalie supplied in a comment yesterday was missing an “L”. This is the correct version, which she sent me later:

http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEfall06/FEATextreme2in1.html.

And see Kate’s comment yesterday for another very interesting article about the technique, from a different issue of Knitty. I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on that publication.

(I wrote “an URL” here not long ago, and Alexander pounced. It should be “a U.R.L.”, according to him. I asked Thomas-the-Elder yesterday over breakfast which way he said it, when he had to say it out loud. His reply was, “link”.)

VKB’s

Do follow up the very interesting link Lorna provided yesterday. The plain-vanilla link to the blog is http://www.almostrandom.com/needlesnhooks/. The writer has come into possession of a delicious stock of American Vogue Knittings.

She says, if you scroll down to the post where she introduces the collection, that there’s a gap in the 70’s. I suspect – I’ll have to contrive to find out – that it was a real gap, that after the VKB went down in the late 60’s, there was no Vogue Knitting for a while on either side of the Atlantic, until the present Vogue Knitting International rose phoenix-like from the ashes. To coin a phrase.

I wandered around American eBay for a while yesterday. If I were really serious about this, I’d have to visit it regularly. VKB No. 2, the real VKB, the No. 2 I bought last Sunday, is on offer there. If No. 2, why not others?

American sellers are generous with illustrations, and there is no doubt that there is a considerable -- ?total -- overlap of patterns between VKB and the American magazine. I was particularly interested in the American Fall/Winter 1961 – the American ones are dated, thank goodness -- because I think I actually knit the pattern on the cover. But I knit it in 1956 or, less likely, ’55, when I was an undergraduate in Glasgow. By 1961 I was knee-deep in small children. I’ll buy that issue if it doesn’t fetch big bucks.

What a day for pleasant surprises.

Our eldest grandson, Thomas-the-Elder, is here, on his way to Murrayfield to watch Scotland, almost certainly, lose to Ireland at rugby. He’ll be out carousing with friends this evening, but spent yesterday evening with his aged grandparents, by whom his company was much enjoyed.

Marcella has written to me with the name of a plant that repels rabbits!

Natalie of The Yarn Yard has written to say that the yarn she dyed for me specially, to knit a sweater for a small grandson, is on its way and should arrive today.

VKB

I bought VKB No. 29 on eBay yesterday, for a stiff but not quite black-tulip price. A few minutes later, the same seller sold No. 31 for one-third of what I had just paid. It’s a funny business. It was a highly significant purchase for me, in that I now have all the post-war VKB’s.

I also have a couple of tattered American ones, which I got a fair while ago in a swap with Judy Sumner of Knitlist fame. I looked at them yesterday, and discovered that “Vogue’s Knitting Book, 6th Edition” is copyright 1945. That’s a significant discovery. By 1945, the VKB was well into its second decade. Autumn, 1945, was VKB no. 27. That surely means that the British VKB was the original.

We spent the academic year 1960-61 in Northampton, MA. As I remember it, I didn’t knit at all that year – this was in the days before Webs. But I have a memory, it’s funny how trivial memories sometimes adhere, of picking up Vogue’s Knitting Book in a supermarket and flicking through it and not buying it because I already had the current VKB back home in Glasgow, and the patterns were largely the same.

So what I now need to do is seek out the American eBay and buy a date-able Vogue Knitting from the 50’s or early 60’s, and compare patterns to see if memory is accurate. Maybe if I’m lucky, the American magazine will have easy-to-find dates. Anything will do, and lacking-a-cover is fine, so it shouldn’t cost too much.

My friend Helen delivered Nos. 2 and 5 yesterday, purchased on Super Sunday. They’re good. For now, I will just mention that No. 2 has a baby jacket which, for just about the first time in all this book-collecting, makes me want to throw everything aside and knit it.

There is a technique called “double knitting” which I have read about but never tried, where you knit with two balls of yarn at once and by means of slipping stitches, and slipping whole rows back to the beginning of a dp needle, wind up with two conjoined pieces of fabric. The jacket in Vogue is perfectly simple, practically Vibeke Lind: you cast on at the lower back, knit straight up, add more stitches for the sleeves, divide at the neck and knit the fronts downward. And at the end you have a simple baby jacket – lined.

The cast-on and cast-off edges would automatically be joined. Would the selvedges? Vogue just says to finish the edges with “twisted cord”.

Other…

I should mention that I’m now doing the neck of the Calcutta Cup sweater. It’s almost certainly too big, but I might as well finish and see for sure. More tomorrow.

And that I mean to pursue the subject of Jane Waller and her books. Thanks, commenters.

Calcutta Cup sweater

I reached the lower-neck-shaping point yesterday, and got seriously to grips with it: sweater and pattern-sweater spread out on the floor; pen, paper, calculator, measuring-tape to hand. But before I got very far, I reflected.

When I reach the desired length – it should happen today – I will have a good many more than 40%K stitches. Meg says that’s fine; decrease them in the first round of the neck edging. (I must have miscalculated when sleeves were attached to body – I did a whole inch or so without shaping; clearly I shouldn’t have.)

But if I leave stitches behind for the neck now, and perhaps decrease a few more on either side of the neck before I finish, the decreases just mentioned will have to bunch on the remaining stitches. Won’t that unbalance things? The front will be wider than the back? Would that matter?

So I didn’t do anything, and am proceeding to the neck on all stitches. I will then try to raise the back with the neckband as we have been discussing, Xmasberry. I suspect you’re right that the difference between EZ’s treatments of the different sweaters may stem from the fact that one had colour patterns and the other didn’t.

But I remain determined to try again if the first attempt doesn’t succeed. I can still cut.

VKB

I’ve been revelling in my new purchases.

Number 9 is autumn, ’36. There is no hint of storm clouds gathering, or of the Depression. All is close-fitting, fine wools, one size per garment (although there are two patterns designed for a 38-inch bust measurement, one of them actually labelled “Suit for the Larger Woman”.) Suits figure prominently. The skirts are unlined, which seems odd to me. There are lots of sporty sweaters, all pretty trim to the modern eye, intended, according to the text, for golf and ski-ing and winter cruises.

There is even, oddly, a “Warm Coat for Winter Tennis”. It looks too bulky for tennis in any season.

The ads are wonderful, as ever. I am particularly taken with an ad for a Bairns-Wear layette leaflet – the cover shows a baby in the arms of a fully uniformed nurse: not a hospital nurse, I am sure, but a domestic employee, a “monthly nurse.” No mother in sight.

There is a full-page ad for Vogue itself. It came out fortnightly in those days, and included a knitting or crochet design in every issue. “Vogue is a life saver for the smartly poor.”

Non-knit

Here is a picture which turned up yesterday of grandson Fergus of Thessaloniki on holiday in Egypt last Christmas.