Category: Crafters

The Mountain Hare Hat: what a challenge.

What am I working on now, you might ask. Well, I’m working on my frustration and trying for patience and acceptance. Let me tell you why.

This is Alice Starmore’s, Mountain Hare Hat featured in the publication, “Glamourie”, by same said author. It’s quite a substantial hardcover publication with 278 pages, containing 11 knitting patterns and 7 costumes and stories illustrated to go along with the patterns.

I’ve had my heart set on making this hat since I saw it online years ago. I purchased the kit and borrowed the book from the library. But that wasn’t good enough. I had to buy the book even though I knew I wouldn’t be making any of the other patterns contained within.. But it’s just a glorious book and worth having in one’s own library. The photographs and the stories are enough in themselves to justify the price. The price is substantial but like I said before, worth having.

I knew when I bought the kit, and contemplated, making the hat that it was not a beginers level pattern. But I was just over the line of a beginner and had been knitting sweaters and mittens and hats and shawls and scarves and socks, etc. There were always expected challenges in everything that I knit., but this pattern is kicking my ass.

The kit came with the yarn only and no pattern attached, which is unusual, but I bit the bullet because I was so in love with the hat. The yarn is Alice Starmore’s Hebridean, 2 ply. The colors are well named pebble beach, corncrake, driftwood and sundew. It was the colors that drew me in and the one of a kind design. The yarn is rustic and the hand dyed colors are taken from nature.

So what could go wrong? Everything, it seems, from cast-on to working with the chart. I started and ripped out at least 4 times before I put the pattern, the book and the dreaded object aside. I was worried that knitting, and then ripping it out too many times would ruin the yarn. For some reason, I left it sitting out on my baskets of yarn and it bothered me, it bothered me bad that I couldn’t get it done. It wasn’t the pattern’s fault, nor was it the yarn’s fault… there is only one other thing to blame and it is me.

So, after I finished christmas knitting and the new year celebrations had come and gone, I decided to start on the Mountain Hare Hat once again. I tore out what I had already started and left abandoned and wound the yarn into balls. Then I made my first mistake.

I started my cast-on with the larger needle size and it was supposed to be the smaller needle size indicated in the pattern. But by the time I realized it, I was through with the brim. The next mistake was that I thought that it would be alright. Well, as you can see, it’s not alright. As I began on the body of the hat, the brim gave kind of a flare. Dammit, I’m not going to tear it out again. I’m going to just keep going.

In the brim are a row of french knots. I was supposed to make them with a contrasting color but after the first few knots, I said to myself, f*** it. I was following the instructions, but somehow the knots were ending up on the inside of the brim. So not only are they not the right color but they’re on the inside of the cap. But I quickly convinced myself that I can push them through. They’re not happy about it, but I think I can do a little fixing to make them stay on the right side.

So, “soldier on”, said I to myself. I’m not ripping this out again. At this point I decided that, make all of the mistakes that you will, but I will not rip back. Sure, I will “tink” back if I’ve made a knit stitch where I should have made a purl stitch, but I’m not ripping back for anything. I will finish this hat and wear this hat, be it a big fat mess or at least acceptable.

So, as you can see from the image, it’s not a big fat mess, but it’s barely acceptable. I’ve tried it on and it fits great. In spite of all of these problems that I’m having with this pattern, I’m having fun. I am what they call a process knitter and not necessarily a product  knitter. Maybe when I’ve finished, and I’ve blocked it, some of the mistakes will be buried by this beautiful yarn.

I still have a long way to go. I’m only on row 27 and there’s upwards of 60 some rows, then there’s all the french knots to make throughout and the finishing touch of a felted button at the very top.

I’m determined to go on no matter how many mistakes I make. When I finish, I will post a photo of it.

My moniker isn’t “abundant imperfections” for nothing.

In the Gloaming (1877)

Surprisingly, my summer project is a heavy-duty wool cardigan by Caitlin Hunter, of Boyland Knits, aptly named “Gloam”. In the gloaming means the twilight hours just after sunset. “In the gloaming” has always been my favorite time of day, whether it be a summer, winter, spring, or fall evening.

There was a time in my life, I would say, probably the decades between 20 and 60 years when I felt unquenchable yearning at this time of day, for what I do not know. I couldn’t tell if I had to go out of the house or if I needed to stay in. There was a restlessness about it… as if I was missing out on something. I sometimes would at least need to be out on the porch as darkness overcame the gloaming.

Thank goodness I don’t feel the same about the gloaming anymore. But still, this is my favorite time of day heavy with nostalgia and longing and memories of days gone by. So when I found the sweater named the “Gloam” it just seemed right that I would knit it. The style was right, as well.

The garment has an Asian appearance to it like a kimono, with an open front and wide medium-length sleeves, and a cropped body. The yarn I’m using is of DK weight of Highland woolen spun of New England, Harrisville, in a deep charcoal colorway. Across the front and back is a large textured section of 72 rows.

Some would not consider this summer knitting, and neither do I but it is what it is. I’m having a lovely time working on it but it’s not something I take outside with me. That’s okay, because as I’ve grown older, sitting outside in the heat is not one of my pleasures. As August approaches, I might have to switch to sock or hat knitting, but I’d love to have this sweater to wrap up in come Fall.

Maybe I’ll need to take it outside to work on in the gloaming as the heat of the day subsides.

My cousin Gail, after reading my blog post, brought up that the word “gloaming” reminded her of my mom. Now I might understand why I loved it so:

Mom played the piano and sang a lot as we were growing up. We had sheet music in the piano bench and Mom would sing and play all kinds of music, from pop, ballads, jazz, blues, and more. Now I know why that word stirs up such emotion in me. I now remember that Mom sang, “In the Gloamingʻ.

Thank you Gail for stirring my memory. Follow the link below to hear this beautiful but sad song.

In the Gloaming (1877)

https://share.google/GkiEYPfcG82dN6YuW

The Stockholm Vest

The Stockholm Vest is well on its way. Not even a month ago, I had started two other vests that were absolutely beautiful and using beautiful yarn, but I just couldn’t get past the first 20 rows on either pattern.

I thought I had lost my ability to knit. It was so until I picked up this pattern from Petite Knits.

The yarn I’m using is The Border Mill North Coast Tweed, from Scotland. The label says that the colorway “Black Isle” was inspired by a road trip around Scotland’s far north coast. It is spun from pure Shetland wool. Though the foundational colorway is black, there is a lot of deep dark brown and even some gray tones that give it a very earthy look, peaty even.

I love this yarn, and once I got started, I loved the pattern, as well. It’s funny how you can get caught up in a failure or what seems to be a failure, only to find your inspiration once again.

Though it doesn’t look like much yet, I would say that I’m three-quarters of the way done. I’ll keep you posted on my progress.

When the Mind Needs a Rest, Hand Crafting to the Rescue

I was knitting a super lovely sock named “Sheperdess” designed by one half of the podcasters “Grocery Girls,” Tracie Millar.

I was knitting them in Schachenmayer, merino yak, 4 ply, in colorway: 07516. I envision that color as spring green turned fall green for lack of light.

This is an easy and well written pattern. I loved the yarn and the color. It’s so perfect for dark November days and nights.

In the first photo, there lies a book containing a collection of essays titled “Vodou,” written by my mentor Dr. Donald Cosentino, a world expert on Haitian vodou. And there lay the socks sprinkled with my beloved candy corn.

In the 2nd photo is a yule card by a Swedish artist, who’s name escapes me, old photos of my grandma and grandpa, Eduardo Galeano’s book, “Memory of Fire”, Alice Staremore’s book, “Glamourie” and a notebook of my writings. And there are the beautiful socks in progress

I love an assemblage photograph.

Knitting calms me in the midst of the chaos that is our world… our reality. I hope that handcrafting does that for you, too.

PS: This was written maybe three or four years ago, but it’s still pertinent for today.

Warmed by Sheep and Artisans

When I was rummaging around my room this morning, I came across this hat that was peeking out of a basket from under other winter wear. It has been years since I paid much attention to it… since I had begun to knit my own hats some years ago.

I, at first, mistakenly identified it as the art of the Cowichan Indians of British Columbia because of the natural colors and unplied yarn used by the tribe to create mostly sweaters and hats.

Sometimes, I’m good at remembering details, but other times, I’m not.

Actually, Jack reminded me that it was the famous Paula Simmons who knit this hat. She was one of the first PNW (Pacific Northwest) artists to raise and shear her own sheep. She processed the fleece, carding, and spinning the fibers, creating the yarn to finally knit garments and accessories like this hat.


With the help of Jack’s memory, he reminded me where we bought this hat. The time frame had to be between 1969 -1972, when we were living in a small house in St. Johns in North Portland. We were just married, and before children. We bought it on a trip to Seattle, Washington, at an art gallery/ craft store at the Space Needle. The store and its name are long forgotten.

Part of my confusion was that I did own a Cowichan Indian sweater, and the hat was created in a similar yarn. I know we bought it before 1972 because I have at least one photo of me wearing it in 1973 – 74, walking through a snowy forest with two year old Hannah, riding on my back. ( I will post the photo when I can find it). That means it would be about 52 years old. (I found it)

The hat, the sweater, the girls, and Skokie the dog

It is knit in unplied and undyed natural sheeps wool. It’s never been washed, and you can still feel the lanolin.  The wool is very rustic and rough to the touch and still causes my forehead to itch, but it’s the warmest hat I own. The wool, in its natural state, is completely waterproof… not water resistant but waterproof.

It is in perfect condition without so much as a moth hole. It could pass for “unused.” This hat is one of my most treasured possessions, and it’s probably worth only a few dollars. The Cowichan Indian sweater was bought around the same time, but unfortunately, it burned in our house fire in 1974-75. I so wish I still had that sweater.

Jack bought the sweater for me when he worked for Norm Thompson. (A thorough history of Norm Thompson Outfitters is interesting and can be found on wikipedia.)

If you’re curious about the Cowichan Indian’s trade in knitwear, please see the following website for more information. Here, you’ll see lots of photos of the sweaters and the knitters, and their fascinating history:  http://knitwithpurpose.com/knitters

I see that the Cowichan Trading Company store, established in 1947 in Vancouver, BC,  has closed permanently. I don’t know what this might mean for the trade in sweaters, but I see that there are stores still stocking them, and there are many new and used online.

Original, authentic Cowichan Indian sweater

All of this interesting stuff because I found my  hat made by Paula Simmons.

This Quilt Deserves Better

You know, this crosstitch quilt took 40 years and more hours to create than you could ever imagine. I loved every minute of those hours.

There were years when it languished in a closet, partially completed, while my life was filled with family, going to school, traveling, and other obligations. But it was always there, waiting for me to come back to it.

Now that I’m older, crafting is what I do. It’s all that I do. I do it for joy, peace, and the satisfaction of creating something beautiful. While stitching, be it crossstitch, crochet, crewel work, knitting, bookbinding, or tapestry, I forget about the troubles that face me, that face us in this incredible yet troubling world that we live in. Podcasts, audio books, documentaries, travel vlogs, and the like fill my days while I craft.

Beyond the stitching, however, there was the cost of taking the quilt to the “long arm quilter.” By the time I finished the cross stitching, I was not inclined to hand stitch a queen sized quilt. Three hundred dollars was a small price to pay.

For those of you who don’t quilt, you may not know what that is. A long arm quilter is a person who owns a very large, almost room sized machine in which they can feed a quilt of almost any size. That machine is connected to a computer on which many patterns are programmed. A pattern is chosen, and off it goes with the expertise of the long armed quilter. For those of us who quilt, it is a marvel.

At that point is when the long arm quilter saved it from more time sleeping in the trunk or closet. I had started to quilt it by hand, but after months of working on it, I realized that the task was too daunting. I just wanted it to be done. When I got the quilt back a week later, I then hand stitched the binding. It was finally ready to use.

But, by this time, this quilt is so precious that I can’t use it on my bed… Only because I have two cats and a dog that often share my bed. Claws, hair, and dirt would most likely destroy it.

So for now, it’s folded and safely sits on my ottoman with a pillow on top where Fran Ham, the cat, loves to sleep. I can only enjoy the parts of it that peek out from underneath.

Beautiful quilt. You deserve better.

The Balvonie Bonnet

The finished project

I’ve been wanting to make the Balvoniee Bonnet by Corinne Tomlinson for a long time. Corrinne says that her inspiration for this hat was Balvonie of Inshes in Inverness, Scotland, where she grew up and spent long school breaks there with her family. The bonnet is “traditional Scottish woolen brimless cap; a bunnet (Sir Walter Scott).”

I ordered the kit from Wooley Thistle this winter. The yarn is by Jamieson and Smith, a 100% Shetland wool from the Shetland Islands. But I’ve been stuck in a place of no motivation for knitting except to finish a pair of socks for Hannah. The socks are out of Arne and Carlos Schachenmeyr sock yarn. They were supposed to be done for Christmas. Then they were supposed to be done in February for her birthday. But I just finished them this past weekend. So now I’ve got time to do the bonnet.

Also, if you look closely, you can see the Cascade 220 yarn in lipstick red in the background. That is going to be a striped sweater with bright pink and this red for Hannah. I’ll post more about that as I get into it. The pattern is called the Compliment Sweater. Hannah has asked me to make her something out of yarns that were not my favorite but turned out to be my favorite in the end after completing the project. I think this will be the same. Lots of summer knitting to do.

The pattern

Ode to the Fat Squirrel  (Amy Beth)

As I watched you…

I could almost feel the warm midwest winter sunshine on your hair.

Your hair is the colors of burnished bronze, copper, and gold. Some strands are thick and lustrous as if made of spun silver.

Unruly, some with a mind of their own are spiraling away from the rest, up into the air with a strong sense of whimsy in defiance of gravity.

Flecks of dust are flying around your head in a ray of sun, animated by the air, stirred by the swish of wool and cotton.

Beautiful visuals punctuated by laughter.

I loved it all on this cold, wet, dark day in Portland on the west coast.

Wordsmith: Enora Hall

I watch a lot of knitting podcasts because I’m a knitter. I love some, and some I don’t love. The Fat Squittel falls into the former…  in my list of top five, she’s hard to beat.

She’s intelligent, well-read, informed, and always filled with abundant humor. There’s beauty that isn’t unfounded in other podcasts, but there’s something rare in the presentation… in the filming, in her talent as a textile artist.

Once, I thought I was writing to her to tell her of my appreciation, but sent it unknowingly to some random poster writing about Mary Todd Lincoln. Thankfully,  someone commented on my comment, and the lost poem was found. Here you have it.