Take A Chance With Me: Moving Out of Your Comfort Zone

Although I was proud enough of my suspended shoulder stand to post a photograph of the event (and it's a rare day when I'm in any photograph), it wasn't long before I began to critique my pose.  As wonderful as it felt to go upside down, I'm no poster child for correct alignment:

You can see that I'm holding on here for dear life, after Robin helped me up.  I wasn't strong enough to get there on my own. One of the goals in this pose is to be in Tadasana (albeit upside down), with my feet level and my legs straight and strong.  I started out that way, but at this point, I'm using the wall for support, doing an unintentional back bend.  These are a few things I see; a yoga instructor would have much more to suggest about correct positioning.  Notice that I'm critiquing my pose, not criticizing it.  There's a big difference.

In some ways, the sloppiness of my pose doesn't matter.  I got up there, which is more than most people I know could or would do.  I managed to work through the rush of panic without freaking out and I stayed in the pose for a few minutes.  I had some idea of how the pose should feel and look and I did manage to take my feet away from the wall in an attempt at Tadasana.  If I never do this again, I still have a few bragging rights. 

(Incidentally, Robin was correct-when I went up, I had a very sore right shoulder, enough to wake me up at night.  "This will help," she assured me, although I couldn't see how balancing on a painful area would relieve the discomfort.  It's been two nights now, and I haven't been disturbed by shoulder pain one bit.  Go figure.)

It's not enough.  Now that I know I can do shoulder stand, I want to improve my pose. I've looked closely at the photo, asked questions about adjustments, annoyed yoga teachers about why this and that.  I'm looking to move out of my comfort zone because that's how I learn and grow.

Comfort zones are there for good reasons.  Sometimes, it's nice to play safe, to look for the soothing tones of the familiar.  Staying in the warm, fuzzy areas can keep us happy, away from risk.  Those aren't problems, unless and until we use comfort to numb our experiences and allow ourselves to shrink from challenges.  If you refuse all challenges, you'll end up as a warm puddle on your couch, afraid to interact with the world.  You literally won't know your own body or mind.

Many fibre people take up knitting or spinning or other fibre crafts for those comfort experiences.  We seek to escape the pressures of our jobs, our families, the stresses of life, our selves.  Spinning plain yarns, knitting garter stitch scarves by the truckload help us feel good.  Not only do our crafts calm us, we make something useful in the process.  Again, there is no judgment here.  I'm a big, big fan of garter stitch and plain 2 ply yarn. We are forced to deal with stress every day; we don't have to add more if we'd rather not. 

The thing is, if we're able to do something at all, why not explore our limits?  Once in a while, we need to step outside those boundaries, face our fears head on (or down, as the case may be) and go for it.  If you always knit garter stitch scarves, consider working a simple shawl, perhaps with an easy lace border.  Continue spinning those plain yarns, but throw some deliberate designer lumps and bumps into one or two skeins.

This little shawl is nothing but garter stitch and yarn overs.

Rather than adding to our stresses, challenges will actually alleviate the pressures we face.  When you are working on something new, you have to pay attention, which means you don't have the time or space to worry about the daily annoyances which build stress.  You pick your challenge, research it and do it safely, to the best of your abilities.  Then you push a little more.  (Safety is much more important with a physical challenge. Although I've seen some impressive spinning and knitting failures, apart from a rush of forceful language and some tears, fibre flaws are rarely fatal.)

It's that "pushing a little more" that will take you places and enrich your world. So, go on, take a baby step or two.  You may soon find yourself running.

As for me, I've been behaving like a little kid all week, begging people to help "Me go upside down!"  It feels good.

Namaste.



A bit of hand spun yarn, garter stitch, some holes and a sense of adventure can take you places.  It really is okay to colour outside the lines!

(Congratulations to DaigleD, whose name was chosen for the Blog Birthday draw.)

Life is a Highway: Travelling the Yoga and Fibre Road

When we walk the path of yoga and meditation, there's no end to the journey, at least while you're on this planet.  You take yoga practice as far as you like - you can experiment with a few postures and stop there, go a little further along the path with meditation, or spend your life exploring the meaning and value of sustained practice.  What you do and where you go is up to you, with one caveat: if you decide that you've found "the answer" to it all, your practice will come to a halt.  Once you think you've stumbled across the true meaning of life, you've lost it.  Yoga travels along an endless, meandering path; that thing you think is home is really a giant boulder, an obstacle in your road.

It's that way with spinning, knitting and fibre arts, too.  As long as we continue to explore the arts we love, we continue to learn.  Although I have decades of spinning and knitting behind me, there are mountains of knowledge I haven't climbed.  Even small things can bring us joy when we discover them for the first time.

The crocheted blanket is coming along nicely.

I learned Norwegian cast on yesterday.  It's a simple variation on Long Tail cast on, but provides a stretchy edge which is great for socks.  I learned this technique from a DVD in the Deluxe Edition of The Knitter's Companion, by Vicki Square. I have the earlier edition and it's wonderful, but I'd meant to update to the new one.  Sharon at Golden Willow gave me a copy of the new version on Saturday.  It was a wonderful, helpful gift and the DVD's contain many demonstrations of things I do not know.

I know a fair bit about knitting, including several cast on methods, finishing techniques and blocking methods, but if I had decided that I knew all I needed to know about knitting, I would have missed the information contained in this knitting guide.  By staying open to new possibilities, I now have fresh ideas which can improve my own work and which may help me with my teaching.  What I learned isn't earth-shattering, but it's new and fresh and helps to keep my brain active.

The next time you are offered new possibilities and are undecided about taking them, ask yourself this: further down the road, will I regret not taking the opportunity to do . . . ?  If the answer is "yes," then take the leap.  At worst, you can only fail; sometimes failure is our best teacher.

If I didn't step away from the obstacle of knowing-it-all, I'd never have explored linking spinning, knitting and fibre arts to meditation.  If I believed I knew all I needed to know about yoga, I'd never taken a class I'm enjoying thoroughly.  If I thought there was no way I could guide a yoga therapy class, I would never have been given the opportunity to teach one.

It's fine to take a break from whatever you are exploring in life, but never stop travelling.  There are so many learning opportunities, even if those opportunities are small things, like a new way to start your knitting or a variation on how you build your spindle cop.  It's the small things that enrich us and expand our world.  Keep exploring.

Namaste.

Mickey (aka The Buddha) explores new possibilities for my sweater.

 

Higher Again: On the Subject of Authenticity

Yoga, knitting and fibre arts are riding waves of popularity now.  All kinds of courses and websites are popping up exploring these subjects, often attempting to give fresh perspectives on old subjects.  You can take Yin Yoga, Hot Yoga, Yoga and Pole Dancing, Laughter Yoga, Holy Yoga.  If you're a knitter, you can explore colour work, brioche, free form knitting, Portuguese knitting, Andean knitting, knitting as art or political statement.  It can be overwhelming, especially for someone exploring yoga for the first time or for the new knitter.  How do we know where to start?  How do we determine what will help us and what will cause harm.  (This is more likely a hazard in yoga.  You can do real harm to your body in a yoga class.  In most cases, the results of bad knitting are frustration and, well, badly knit items.)

What is and what isn't "real" is problematic.  Colin (my professor) points out that "Real yoga tends to be everything I like.  Fake yoga is everything I don't like." That certainly is true for me; there are many things promoted as yoga and meditation that I dislike and even more things in the current knitting scene that rub me the wrong way. When you dislike something, it's a good idea to examine your reasons for the antipathy.  Let's see if we can begin to examine the idea of "real" or "authentic."

It's important to note that we are discussing skill level and commitment here, not personal worth. Taking an interest in something, whether you do it in depth or not, is not a measure of your value as a person. You may be the best knitter in the world - is there such a thing? - and still be a despicable, nasty being. There are a lot of skilled, but grumpy and unpleasant yogis around. If we can separate personality from exploration, we may be able to examine the subject more objectively.

Suppose you take up knitting and discover that you enjoy knitting dishcloths.  You knit these by the bushel load and you become very skilled at making dishcloths.  They're all you knit - you have no desire to try anything else.  You knit, but are you a real knitter?

Now suppose you take up knitting and discover that this becomes an in depth subject for you.  You explore as many stitches and patterns as you can.  You read about knitting, you search on line for anything that will improve your skills.  Perhaps you achieve accreditation in hand knitting.  Knitting becomes a lifelong pursuit.  Are you a knitter, now?  More to the point, is your knitting more real, more authentic than that of the dishcloth knitter?

If you are only knitting for yourself, what you do and how you do it affects only you.  When you move into selling your products or teaching, the issue of authenticity becomes more important.  We speak harshly of elitism, for good reasons.  Elitism used as a tool to control and oppress others is a danger; however, elitism may have value when we are looking for who can best teach us.

If you want to learn something, would you rather learn it from a person who has been knitting for a week or from someone who has spent time and effort learning her skills and how best to teach them, especially if money (sometimes a fair amount of cash) is involved?  Would you prefer to learn from someone whose primary interests are marketing and monetary gain or from someone interested primarily in passing along her knowledge?  Are these things mutually exclusive?

Move past knitting into yoga.  Can someone with a weekend certification in yoga practice be as effective a teacher as someone who has studied yoga in some depth, who has perhaps studied anatomy, and who practices on a regular basis? 

You may think that the answers are obvious, but a lot rides on intent (yours and the teacher's) and bias.  I know that I look for teachers in any subject who know their stuff, who practice what they teach rather than depend on theoretical knowledge and who are constantly exploring and pushing their own boundaries.  Then again, I tend to dive fully into subjects which interest me and I have the luxury of time that enables me to do this.  When the allotments of time and money are the same, I look for the teacher who has gathered the largest body of knowledge and who knows how to pass that information along to others.

The flashiest teacher or even the teacher who knows a lot is not necessarily the best. I've taken classes from well-known instructors who were clearly out of their depth as teachers, who didn't know what they purported to know, who didn't know how or didn't care to pass that information on to others and who would not consider other ideas, especially from students.  Most of the time, I look for the teacher who is open, clear about his/her biases and who enjoys what he or she does and teaches and who doesn't withhold that knowledge. As Colin says, these people tend to "beam" with the beauty of their knowledge.

Look for those people.

Namaste.

I'm so caught up in my class that I'm not knitting or spinning much, but I am working on stash reduction.  The yarn on the Hatchtown spindle is from a batt I blended.  I'm knitting the scarf from a 50/50 blend of qiviuq and merino.

Higher Part 3: Fibre Arts Meditation and Moving Inward

We sit on our cushions.  We meditate.  We spin.  We knit.  We're not looking for particular results, but it's in our nature to wonder: does any of this have practical benefits?

Fibre artists donate their time, efforts and money to many worthy causes.  Whether it be to premature infants, people struck by disaster or hapless penguins, crafters are always willing to donate hats, blankets, sweaters, whatever is needed, when they are needed.  The action can be political, too -  as witnessed by knitting support for the Occupy Movement.

Do more subtle changes occur as a result of our practice?  Given time, yoga and mindfulness can provide a shift in our perspective, a change in thought that may deepen our connections to other beings and the planet.

You won't be far along your spinning path before you realize the commitment and skill required to spin a good piece of string.  Spinning gives us new respect for the materials we use.  Instead of  always reaching for yarn that represents the best bargain for us, we may begin to think about the processes involved in supplying that yarn.  Just how can the $5 skein of yarn from across the world provide a living wage for its makers?  Would we be willing to make $5 yarn, even if we kept all the profits (never mind the numerous middlemen set to take their cut)?  Would it make more sense to buy locally?

If these questions arise, they are more likely to manifest slowly, subconsciously, rather than hit you over the head with moral dilemma.  I knit dozens of pairs of socks before I realized that I hadn't purchased myself a pair of Big Box Store socks for years.  Now that I understand the costs required to produce a pair of $3 socks and the likelihood that sock producers see very little return for their efforts, I no longer have the urge to buy cheap socks.  Apart from the ethical issues, sock knitting provides meditative moments in my busy days.  Besides, hand knit socks feel and wear better than inexpensive house brand footwear.

A word of caution: becoming aware of these connections among sentient beings and deciding on a course of action isn't a license for self-satisfaction or judgment.  I may no longer buy BBS socks, but I do stock up on winter tights every few years and I refuse to knit my own underwear.  We also never know the effects our actions have on others.  I may believe that knitting my own socks will contribute to the decline of sweatshops and child labour, when what I'm really doing is depriving someone of desperately needed income, no matter what the working conditions.

All we can do is live our lives in good faith and hope that we leave the planet a bit better, or at least, not make things worse.  Meditation practice brings us to awareness and connection.  It's a good place to start.

Namaste.

This week's knitting: working through my sock yarn stash

Georgia on My Mind: Art Yarn Wrap Up and a Quick Knit Scarf

We held the final session of the Art Yarn Spinning class last night.  Everyone brought their yarn and projects, some of which you see here.  Others were too shy/modest to be included, but their work was lovely. (I mean you, Joan.) This is Hilary, who is working on the mittens found in Pluckyfluff's "Intertwined:"

Next up is Sheila, hanging out with us, all the way from Miramichi, New Brunswick.  Sheila recyles old fur coats into wonderful articulated Teddy Bears, one of whom is shown here wearing a hat and scarf from Sheila's yarn:

Jane and Susan are ignoring the camera.  Susan blogged about her yarn here:

Jane hides behind some gorgeous yarns:

Erin made a wonderful garland from her beaded yarn:

Then there is Wendy, who had just finished the beginning spinners' class, bought a wheel and jumped right into art yarn spinning.  Wendy announced that she had purchased a bit of alpaca.  When I say, "a bit of alpaca," I mean that in the way mountaineers speak of Mount Everest as "a bit of a climb."

I had a great time teaching this class, as I do with all my classes.  It's wonderful to hang out with like-minded people, people who understand the wonders of and a passion for string.

I made a few projects as samples for the class.  I knit this scarf from handspun Sweet Georgia fibres, in a merino/silk/bamboo rayon blend, spun and plied to a weight of approximately 5 wpi.  The scarf required 75 metres/100 grams of fibre, spun and plied in a hour.  I knit it in an hour or two.  (There is no pattern for the matching hat.  It's a hybrid, which involved chopping off the ribbing, reknitting and other fixes to make it presentable.)

I share the pattern for the scarf here, although it's so simple that I can hardly call it a pattern, let alone mine.  It's knitted in a Mistake Stitch Rib, balanced so that there is a one row repeat.  It can be knit in any yarn-Noro is a good choice for a commercial yarn-and can be adjusted in multiples of four for width.

Sweet Georgia Scarf

Multiple of 4 plus 2 plus 1 stitch.  (Knit in K2, P2 ribbing, with 2 stitches to balance the pattern and 1 stitch for the mistake.)

8 mm needles, circular or straight.

Gauge:  approximately 3.5 to 3 stitches per inch/ 2.5 cm.

Finished size: 10 cm x 120 cm or 4 inches x 48 inches.

Cast on 15 stitches.

All rows:  *K2, P2* repeat across row, ending in K3.

That's it.  Knit until you are sick of knitting or until you run out of yarn.  Bind off loosely in pattern.  Wash and block the scarf. 

If you have only a little yarn, you can turn this scarf into a cowl.  In all cases, use something soft and pretty.  When others express their amazement at your talent, say, "Thank you."  Do not say a word about how simple this project is to knit. 

Thanks to all class participants.

Namaste.

Halloween Howl: Frankensocks

I spun this rather lovely sock yarn last year.  The wool was Merino, too soft for socks to suit my tastes, but I spun it tightly and chain plied it.  It's firm, knits up into socks that fit both Birks and boots and the colours are very pretty. 

The socks turned out well, too, mostly.  I knit them up on small needles, with 2/2 ribbing for the legs so that the socks will stay up.  The heels and their turnings are padded and the socks fit tightly on my feet; these socks won't slip and creep.  They're finished nicely-in theory, I could wear these babies inside out. 

There's one small problem:

Yup.  Completely. Totally. Mismatched.  Not even close.  In a world where it's perfectly acceptable to knit fraternal socks, these would be the orphans in the bunch.

Do I know what happened?  Not a clue.  You see, I didn't bother to label this wondrous sock yarn, so I don't know how I managed this impressive feet  feat. 

Sock #3 seems to be knitting up differently yet again.

I'll wear the um, pair?  They're still nice socks.  I can amuse people by my apparent incapability to dress myself.  Who knows, by the time I finish knitting up all the yarn, perhaps I'll have something resembling a matched set. 

Either that, or I'll have the nicest dusting mitts/socks around.

Happy Halloween!

Angie: A Lesson in Applied Mindfulness

What do we have here?

Yes, it's a bag. The package contains "stuff."  Nothing special, just a few vacation treats.  The photograph shows something else that is not readily apparent: it's an example of mindfulness in action.

I go to Worldly Accents every time I visit Kelowna.  I like the merchandise, but the reason the store appeals to me is the care and attention the staff takes with small details.

Everything is wrapped in handmade paper, tied with hemp string, garnished with a dried leaf and placed carefully in a recycled bag.  Yes, it's good for business, but it's also an extra touch that shows someone has the time to pay attention to the task at hand.

We practise mindfulness for itself, not to achieve a goal or get somewhere, but what I notice with regular practice is that I'm becoming more mindful about my life in general and the work that I do.  I pay attention to the details of what passes through my hands.

"Angie" is an example: this cowl began with a hand spun 2 ply angora and silk yarn, dyed with walnut husks.  I had 140 metres of this soft, soft yarn and I wanted to knit a special project.

I knit several samples, but nothing quite worked until I modified a lacy rib pattern, staggering the "ribs" in alternate sets.  The pattern is reversible-I like to make things which are attractive no matter which side shows. 

I also like to make things which can be worn in a variety of ways, so Angie began with a basic knitted cast on.  I knit until I was almost out of yarn, then cast off in picot edging.  Worked on 88 stitches, this cowl is loose fitting, so I added a twisted cord which can be laced through either end, depending where I want the picots to sit:

Attention to details, mindfulness in action, paid off.  I'm pleased with the cowl.  I've included a simple version here, so you, too, can practise applied mindfulness.  This version is knit with Aslan Trends's Royal Alpaca.  One skein makes a cowl long enough to be doubled over or pulled over the head as a nachaq.  It's tight enough that it can be folded at one end and used as a hat.

You can increase the circumference of the cowl by adding stitches in multiples of 4.  (Be sure to buy more yarn if you do this.)

If you stay with the original 64 stitches, cast off in picot edging-casting off in pattern makes the cowl too tight to frame your face.  You can omit the picot cast on.  The stitches on this cast on are picked up as you go and match the cast off.

The stitch pattern is reversible.

Angie: Mindfulness Cowl

1-100 gram skein Aslan Royal Alpaca (220 metres) or similar yarn

4 mm circular needle/ 40 cm long or needles to give gauge of approximately

4 sts/inch: 16 sts/10 cm

Finished size, unblocked, is approximately 38 cm/15 inches long x 38/15 inches around.  Finished size, blocked, is approximately 40 cm/16 inches long x 40 cm/16 cm around.  The pattern has a lot of lateral stretch.

Picot Cast On

Make a slip knot with your yarn.  Place this stitch on LH needle and use it to *cast on 2 sts onto LH needle.  Bind off 2 sts. (1 st remains on RH needle.)  Notice the loop hanging down from your knitting.  Pick up this loop and place it on your LH needle.  Move the st on the RH needle to the LH needle* and repeat from * to * until you have 63 loops and 1 st on your needle (or desired number of sts).  64 sts.

Place marker on RH needle, join round and work in pattern as follows:

Rnds 1-3:  *K3, P1* repeat from * to * to end of rnd.

Rnd 4:        *yo, K3tog, wrn, P1* to end of rnd.

Work until the cowl measures approximately 38 cm/15 inches long.

Bind off in picot edging:

Using cable or knitted cast on, cast on 2 stitches on to your left needle.  *Bind off 1 stitch.  There is one cast on stitch remaining on the right hand needle.  K2 tog, and bind off one of the cast on stitches on the right hand needle by pulling the single stitch over the k2tog stitch.  Place the remaining stitch on the left needle and use this stitch to cast on 2 stitches on to the left needle.* Repeat from * until you have one stitch remaining on your needle.  Fasten off this stitch.

Make a twisted or crocheted cord and pompoms from remaining yarn and thread through the bound off edge of cowl.

Wash in warm water and no rinse wool wash product.  Roll cowl in towel to remove excess water.  Shape to size and dry flat.

©Deborah Behm 2011

The Spindle: Yet Another Washcloth Pattern

I've been knitting washcloths for the past few days.  I needed a quick gift and I wanted a cloth to take with me to Olds.  A washcloth is a simple thing, but I wanted to put some special touches into mine.  My yarn is Ecoknit Cotton, an organic, naturally coloured yarn.  I needed a special pattern, one with a connection for me and the recipient.  The pattern would be reversible; its structure would make the cloth absorbent.  People like a range of sizes in cloths, so the repeat had to be easily adaptable.  I wanted a quick, easy knit.  I also wanted something to honour World Wide Knit in Public Day, which occurred over the weekend.

I think I found all that in this simple cloth.  The stitch is called, "The Spindle."  I adapted it from a 1972 Mon Tricot publication, 1030 Stitches, Patterns, p. 92.  I started with a knitted cast on and bound off with Elizabeth Zimmerman's cast off in outline stitch, from Knitting Without Tears.  The spindles can be either top or bottom whorl, although you'll have to use your imagination a bit to see the spindles.  Here are both sides of the fabric: (The top photo is the RS and the yarn colour is more accurate.)

So here you go-the pattern for The Spindle Washcloth:

The pattern for this washcloth is adapted from Mon Tricot: Knitting Dictionary 1030 Stitches, Patterns, l972, p. 92. 

1-50 gram/100 m skein Ecoknit Cotton, 100% organic cotton.  1 skein will make either the large or small cloth; 2 skeins will make 2 small cloths and 1 large.  Finished, unblocked sizes: small 20 cm x 20 cm or 8 inches x 8 inches; large 23 cm x 24 cm or 9 inches x 9 inches.

1 set needles to give gauge: 3—3.5 mm needles. Blunt tapestry needle

Pattern gauge: 21 stitches equal 10 cm (4 inches)

Pattern:  Multiple of 6 + 2 stitches

Rows 1 & 3:  *P2, K4,* end P2.

Rows 2 and alternate rows:  Knit the purl stitches and purl the knit stitches of the previous row.

Rows 5, 7 & 9:  P3, *K2, P4,* end K2, P3.

Row 11:  Purl.

Row 12:  Knit.

Cast on 36 stitches (42 stitches for large) using knitted cast on.  (Make a slip knot; place it on the LH needle.  *Knit into this stitch and place the new stitch on to the LH needle in front of the first stitch.*  Repeat from * to *.)

Knit 10 rows/5 ridges in garter stitch. (Knit every row.)

Begin pattern on a RS row, keeping the first 5 and last 5 stitches in garter stitch for the border.

Work 4 repeats of the pattern for the small cloth (5 for large), ending after Row 10.

Work 11 rows of garter stitch for border, ending after a RS row, so that your yarn will be coming from the left end of your knitting needle when the RS of the work is facing you.  Begin casting off in outline stitch. (Adapted from Elizabeth Zimmerman’s Castoff in Outline Stitch, Knitting Without Tears, 1971, p. 24.)

Measure off about 3 times the width of your piece on the working yarn and cut the yarn.  Thread the end through the blunt tapestry needle.

*Keep your working yarn above the tapestry needle; put the needle through the second stitch on the knitting needle from the front, then through the first stitch on the knitting needle from the back.  Pull the yarn through both stitches and drop the first stitch off the needle.*  Continue across the row until you have one stitch remaining.  Go into that stitch from the front, pull the yarn through and fasten off.  The photos show the positions of yarn and needle:

Continue from * to * across the row until you have one stitch remaining.  Go into that stitch from the front, pull the yarn through and fasten off.

Darn in all ends.  Wash and dry the cloth.

©deborah behm, June 2011

Sockual Heeling

Okay, that's an atrocious pun, even for me, but it's cold and damp here and I need to maintain my sense of humour, no matter how badly I may express it.  (Despite the cold, it's still a lovely day.):

On to the source of the bad punnery: Many years ago, I was fortunate enough to have a pair of my hand spun, hand knit socks included in SpinOff magazine.  I was fairly new to sock knitting at the time, so I was full of great wisdom and words of advice.  I was the only person included in the article who talked about darning socks and only to boast casually that "I had yet to darn a pair of my hand knit socks."

From that day on, the sock knitting goddesses had me in their sights.  Every pair of socks I knit managed to gather holes in a very short space of time.  Worse yet, the holes developed just beyond every reinforced area I worked, usually just past the heel or right at the heel turning.  I darned, I patched, I cursed.  I tried a few different things with my spinning and knitting, but returned to my habitual ways, with the same results-one definition of insanity.

Years later, along came Ravelry and its spinning groups.  In threads and forums, great debates ensue as to what makes the perfect sock yarn.  Some people insist that sock yarn must be 3 plies or more, while others claim that a singles can work just as well.  "Merino and Blue-faced Leicester are great for socks," say some.  "Not so," say others. "You must use Romney or Corriedale, or . . . ."

Last year, finally fed up with mending socks, I decided to run an experiment on my own sock yarns.  I spun yarn for two pair of socks, plied and knit them at the same time, then subjected them to a year of regular wear, which for me, means hard use in shoes and boots year round.  I machine wash my socks, but air dry them.

The yarn for both pairs were spindle spun Z.  I spindle plied the yarn S for the striped pair and plied S with a wheel for the other pair.  I don't count twists per inch, but I put a lot of twist into these yarns. ("Barbed wire" was my comment in my original notes.)  The finished yarns average about 18 wpi (wraps per inch).  The striped pair was knitted toe up on 2 mm needles, with a gauge of about 6 stitches per inch.  The heathered pair was also knitted on 2 mm needles, top down, with a gauge of 6.5 stitches per inch.  The striped pair was spun from commercial wool top (possibly Romney).  The other yarns were 3 plied from a singles of mohair/wool/silk roving, a singles of wool roving and a singles of silk roving.  I finished both yarns by washing them in hot and cold baths, giving them some serious whacking and drying them without blocking.

These are the socks as of May 2011.  (I can't post a photo, for some reason, so please follow the link.)  And these are the socks as of yesterday.  Click and zoom if you want a closer view:

Both pair are wearing very well.  The heathered pair pills slightly, due to the fibre preparation (roving) and the wool content.  (I had thought that the pills were from the mohair, but closer inspection indicates that they come from the wool with some mohair bits, perhaps.)  The striped pair looks like new, which is remarkable, given my track record. I attribute that to the fact that I put much more twist in spindle yarns than I do when I'm working on the wheel.  (I think wheels are so quick that I get caught up in their speed and forget to pay attention to the yarn I'm making.) There are no signs of holes in heels or elsewhere.  Both pairs feel firm, harder than most socks feel, but they're comfortable and not itchy.  They're like cushions for the feet.

My conclusions from this small study are nothing earth-shaking.  The "best" sock yarn depends upon fibre choice, preparation, spinning and plying techniques.  If you want your socks to wear well, choose a tougher fibre, use commercial top or combed fibres, add plenty of twist when spinning and plying (Western spinners tend to under spin and ply their yarns), and knit the socks tightly.

Lessons learned:

1.  When something isn't working, change it.
2.  Experiment.
3.  Pay attention.
4.  Never, ever boast that you've yet to darn a pair of socks!

(If you're interested in more yarn experiments, head over to wanderskopos's blog.  She's a great source of thoughtful and entertaining tests of hand spun yarns and wonderful knitting.)

Iris: A Meditation Wrap

I've been making a series of meditation wraps over the last few years.  The primary purpose of these pieces is mindfulness, but I've discovered that working them improves my focus and my fibre skills.  I finished Iris yesterday.  Here she is on the needles:

Before blocking:

And after:

iris is named for her colour, which is more violet than it appears here.  She's also named for the GooGoo Dolls song. 

I found the yarn at the back of a bin.  There was one ball, weighing about 55 grams, no record of the date spun nor the yardage.  (Lesson:  Label your yarn when you store it!)  I spun it years ago, I'm sure.  My current spinning is more casual, far less consistent and certainly not as fine.

I thought the yarn would be perfect for a meditation piece in a simple lace.  With no idea of the yardage, it would be easy enough to cast on, knit until I ran out of yarn and not be tempted to focus on the "project."  (I could have skeined and measured the yarn, but where's the fun in that?)  This piece is small, but large enough to protect me from the chilly night air.

I'm pleased with this little thing, so I offer the pattern here for you.  It's a very easy, one row lace pattern, perfect for meditation or for beginning knitters.  No dogs were harmed in the making of Iris, although Morris nearly came to a bad end when he thought it might be a good joke to steal the scarf when I was photographing it.  He was mistaken.

IRIS MEDITATION WRAP

50 grams 3 ply hand spun Samoyed dog hair yarn, Z spun/S plied, 24 wpi.  Rowan’s KidSilk Haze or similar yarn is a suitable substitute.  (20 sts over 4 inches/10 cm on 4 mm needles.  210 metres/229 yards per 25 gram ball.)

1—60 cm/24 inch circular needle or a pair of straights in a size to achieve gauge.  I used a 4 mm circular Addi.

Blocking Pins (lots of them!)

Gauge:  Approximately 16 sts over 10 cm/4 inches in lace pattern, unblocked.  14 sts over 10 cm/4 inches blocked.  Unblocked piece measured 29 x 94 cm/11.5 x 37 inches.  Blocked piece measures 33 cm x 122 cm/13 x 48 inches.

Note:  My standard border for meditation wraps is garter stitch.  In this piece, the K2 at the beginning and end of the lace causes the border to fold to the back of the work.  This fold blocked out on my wrap, but take the time to wash and block a sample of your yarn before knitting your wrap.

I used all the hand spun Samoyed yarn I had available.  You may knit your wrap to any width or length.  Be sure to buy sufficient yarn to complete the project.

Lace Pattern:  (Adapted from Jan Eaton’s Knitted Lace, Shell Pattern, p. 71.  Multiple of 7+2 sts.)

Row 1:  Knit

Row 2:  Purl

Row 3:  K2, *yo, p1, p3tog, p1, yo, k2, repeat from *

Row 4:  Purl

Using knitted cast on, cast on 47 stitches (37 for lace section, 5 for each edge).

Knit 10 rows (5 ridges) garter stitch, placing a marker after the first 5 sts and before the last 5 sts to mark the edges.  On a RS row, begin the lace pattern over the 37 sts between the markers, keeping the edges in garter stitch.  There is only 1 pattern row, on RS row 3.

Knit in pattern until you are approximately 2.5 cm/1 inch short of your unblocked length, ending after Row 1 of the pattern on a RS row.

Knit 10 rows (5 ridges) in garter stitch, removing the stitch markers before you bind off.  End on a RS row and bind off loosely.  I used Elizabeth Zimmerman’s Sewn Cast-Off, from Knitting Without Tears:

Break your yarn, leaving about 3 times the width of your piece.

Thread this yarn into a blunt tapestry needle.  Hold the work on the knitting needle in your left hand.  Your yarn and tapestry needle are at the right end of the work.

*Slip the tapestry needle and yarn through the first 2 sts on the knitting needle, pull the yarn through.

Slip the tapestry needle and yarn back through the first stitch as if to knit.  Pull the yarn through and slip that first stitch off the knitting needle.*  Repeat from * to * until there is 1 stitch remaining.  Pull the yarn through this stitch as if to knit and fasten off.

Darn in all ends.  Wash the wrap in a no rinse wool wash product.  Roll the wrap in a towel to remove excess moisture.  Block the wrap to size.

(The silver shawl pin was a gift from a friend who purchased it in Asia.)

©Deborah Behm 2011

Lessons in Impermanence

The snow is melting more each day as we flirt with near normal April temperatures.  Many of us thought the snow would never go, but it is and it will.

We live with impermanence.  No matter how we try, we can't stop change.  Our best approach to change is to embrace it.

This is a "Buddha Board."  I bought it a few years ago.  It's great fun.  Similar to the Etch-a-Sketch that some of us played with as kids, you use water and a brush to "paint" on the board:

In seconds, the painting fades and soon disappears:

You enjoy using the board more if you learn to enjoy these changes.

Some changes aren't that much fun:

These are socks I knitted from hand spun Perendale wool dyed with lichen.  (I thought it was logwood dye, but no.)  They're pretty, I think.  I made them around 1997, so they've done well.  But, they've changed:

I'm not bothered by the repairs at the heels.  Those are standard for me.  Look at the toes.  Do you see the fading?

These socks have been worn and washed dozens of times over the years.  I was impressed with my crafting skills, because umbilicaria lichen, which gives fabulous colours, is a notoriously fugitive dye.  Not the way I do it, or so I thought. 

One day, I left the socks near a sunny window.  When I retrieved them, a few hours later, the colour at the point where the sun hit the toes had faded:

There you go-changes, whether I wanted them or not.  I could overdye the socks; they're still wearable, even as they are.  Some people think the changes are deliberate and I could pretend that they were.  Instead, I'm keeping the socks as they are, as a reminder that nothing is permanent.

And to remind me to close the blinds!

Here Comes the Sun

Sun Salutations are cycles of specific yoga poses, exercised swiftly, gracefully, with flow.  You do them in the early morning to greet and prepare for the awakening day.  Sun Salutations are said to bring good health and good fortune; some say that a daily cycle of five salutations provides all the physical and mental discipline a yogi needs.  At the summer solstice, many enthusiasts perform cycles of 108 Salutations to welcome the new season.

Sun Salutations are my downfall.  I've never enjoyed doing them.  They're hard work.  They move more quickly than I think yoga poses should.  They demand grace and attention-if your mind wanders, you lose track of the poses.  They're the yoga equivalent of musical scales, repetitious to the point of boredom, but excellent for flexibility and discipline.  Because of these things and because I believe in facing your fears and dislikes, I do Sun Salutation cycles every morning.  Just not 108 of them.


When I began weaving, I was told that weaving twenty yards of plain cotton cloth was the best practice for learning to weave.  Weaving this cloth would even your beat, straighten your edges and provide you with the discipline to become a production weaver.  I wove those twenty yards of fabric.  They became camisoles and tea towels and other useful items.  I did not become a production weaver and I discovered that I was allergic to sewing, but I most certainly discovered discipline and focus.

I look at "plain vanilla" spinning and knitting as I did that weaving or my Sun Salutations.  Putting your best efforts into a simple 2 ply yarn or a plain garter or seed stitch scarf looks easy, but in order to maintain consistency in the yarns, to keep your stitches nicely tensioned and your fabric even, you must focus.  If you drift into other thoughts, you find your yarn drifting with them.  You drop stitches and your fabric becomes uneven.  You change all that by staying with what you are doing now.

My "plain vanilla" yarns and fabrics are far from perfect.  I still enjoy my mindless spinning and knitting, but paying attention to the simplest projects has improved my focus.  It helps me appreciate the beauty of simplicity and it disciplines me, mind and body, at times when the world seems to be getting away from me.  Simple, rhythmic spinning and knitting is akin to those Sun Salutations I practise every day.

Fortunately, there's no requirement to work on 108 projects at once.  I'm not quite there, yet.

A Basket of Simple Handspun Yarns in the Sun

Emma's Knitting Bag

Erin brought her friend, Sheila, into Golden Willow Natural Fiber on Saturday.  They were searching for husband sock yarn.  (Yarn to knit socks for husbands, not to acquire them.)  As we chatted, Erin mentioned that Sheila had been to the Corner Gas auction.  Corner Gas was/is a wildly popular Canadian sitcom which ran from 2004 until 2009 and was filmed not far from here.  When the series ended, the show props were auctioned off to the public.

Sheila bought Emma's knitting bag, complete with needles and stash.  She gave it to Erin.

Emma was Brent's mother on the show.  She knit constantly, especially at home in Dog River, while keeping husband Oscar in line.  We were never quite sure what she was knitting, just that she was.  Emma and her knitting were well-known in fibre circles.  Owning her knitting supplies isn't quite on par with, say, scoring Queen Victoria's knitting pins, but for some, it comes close.

The thing is, Sheila isn't a knitter or a fibre person.  She laughed (a bit nervously, I thought) as the knitters at drop-in gave a collective gasp of admiration when Erin told them what Sheila had done.  She gamely sat with Erin as she tried out an IST Turkish spindle.  She even spun a metre or two herself.  Erin tells me that Sheila attends Knit Night with her, but hasn't tried to knit.  (Yet.  Knitters live in hope at the prospect of a new recruit.)

Sheila does this because she's Erin's friend.  It doesn't matter if she doesn't understand Erin's fascination with fibre.  She supports it because she supports Erin. 

I have friends like this, who take an interest in what I do although they may be puzzled as to how I can spend nearly every waking moment playing with, writing about or pondering on string.  (Some days, I don't understand it myself.)  They value what I do because they value me.  The feeling is mutual. 

The treasure of a friendship doesn't rest in what those friends give one another.  The treasure comes from honouring the friend.  Sometimes that treasure shows up in a simple knitting basket, dimestore needles and skeins of acrylic yarn.

By the way, Sheila isn't available as a friend rental.  I asked.

One of my many knitting and fibre baskets

The Tyranny of Waste Not, Want Not

Last night's spinning class was "Fibre Prep."  I always have so much fun in class and especially enjoy the preparation sessions.  I love working with beginning spinners; they approach everything with fresh eyes.  They teach me so much.

Beginners often lament about the amount of fibre "wasted" when they are learning to spin.  Many expect their first efforts to be useable from the start.  Others worry that they are spending money which could be put towards better causes.

Let's examine these ideas.  In terms of economic value, spinning is like every other pursuit.  It can be inexpensive or you can take "the sky's the limit" approach.  The money you spend is not indicative of the pleasure you derive from what you do.  But, suppose you are very strapped for cash.  The materials to make a toy wheel spindle cost about $5 and a half hour of your time.  100 grams of undyed Romney roving will set you back less than $7; 100 grams of dyed Romney, about $9.  Your total cost to start: about $15.

$15.  That's 3 cups of coffee at an upscale shop.  It's less than a night out at the movies or a few rentals to watch at home.  It's certainly less than your monthly cable fees, your internet connection, or your cell phone charges.  Less than a fast food meal for two.  (And much healthier!)  As far as economical entertainment goes, spinning start-up wins hands down.

Besides, spinning is active.  Sure, you can spin in front of the television, but your mind is engaged with the spinning process.  Your hands and arms move, developing grace and skill.  Your feet and legs work away at the wheel.  Once you catch on, spinning is relaxing.  It can lower your blood pressure and refresh your spirits.  (For those not there yet--trust me, it's true!)

If you insist on practical uses for your first handspun, then know that, no matter what the results, your first fibre can go somewhere, if only into the compost.  Beginners' yarn can be combined with commercial yarns to perk up hats, mittens, or socks.  It can be used as package trim or to stake tomatoes in the garden.  You can put it away and look at it a few years from now, to impress yourself at how far you've advanced.

What can you do with 100 grams of  beginners' bits of handspun?  Well, there's this:

This hat was knitted using scraps of 2 ply handspun wool and alpaca, for a cost of around $10, plus my time.

What about 500 grams of soft Blue-Faced Leicester roving?

I knit myself this sweater from thick and thin singles as a sample for the Beginners' Spinning classes.  The cost of the fibre was $25.  The ceramic buttons cost $10. 

The time and money we spend learning to spin is never wasted.  Allow yourself the pleasure of small indulgences.  They're good for the spirit.