How Many are Too Many?

I have many sets of needles (particularly double points). Part of collecting them can be blamed on the fact that in traveling, I often find myself in the position of wanting to start something new, but not having the right size needle with me. Then there are the periods of time when I only wanted to knit with wood or bamboo, or wanted to knit solely with metal.

The upside? I (almost) always have a set available to start another project (while there are a dozen sets stuck in WIPs). The downside? Among others, how best to store them.

Over the years I’ve gone back and forth between retaining them in their original packaging versus storing them in hanging containers I’ve purchased or made myself. Based on my (lack of) ability to keep them organized, I find needles under couch cushions, on the floor, at the bottom of project baskets, etc., etc. In my once-a-year needle cleanup, I gather as many as I can find and sit down with a gauge and sort them back into sets and put them away. It’s cumbersome. That’s why, when I saw a good idea on one of the social media sites, I decided I might try a new method, in hopes it will be more compact and easy to keep under control. Also, pretty inexpensive, although I REALLY like the ones that are made of wood and rotate on their base.

Here is the finished setup. I used my Brother P-touch labeling machine to mark the needle sizes (both US and metric), and for the sizes up to US5/3.75mm held sets together with orthodontic elastics. That way when I go to grab a certain size and length, I don’t have to do any rummaging around.

Just Off the Needles…(almost)

This was my travel project last week, and I have just finished the knitting (still needs to be bound off and blocked). It’s a double thick headband in the Gairloch design.

While this design was used for a variety of garments, it is best known as a pattern for socks — particularly for kilt hose.

With its strong diagonal lines, the Gairloch pattern mimics earlier kilt hose sewn from plaid fabric. The fabric was placed on the bias to allow it to both stretch slightly and still cling around the calf.

On the left is a drawing of a highly embellished example, featuring the stag’s head (Caber Feidh), emblem of Clan MacKenzie since the 13th century.

The more typical design is here on the right in a photo by Jim Dunn. This stocking pattern from the Gairloch Museum can be found on Ravelry.


The pattern for the headband I knit also can be found on Ravelry, and has the advantage of not requiring the calf shaping that interrupts the pattern down the back of the leg. I also recommend this to anyone who is just getting started with color knitting. Because of the quick color changes, you can soon get into the rhythm both of changing yarns and developing even tension. If you’re right-handed, keeping the dominant (foreground) color in your right hand and the background in your left, the foreground color will sit slightly forward and be more evident. I thought this was a really soothing knit because I didn’t have to think about floats and where to catch them…leaving the novice colorwork knitter with one less thing to learn on a first go.

Of course, there is history here to explore. During the years of the potato blight (late 1840s) Lady Mary Mackenzie organized local women to knit these stockings as a source of income for crofting families. Using locally available wool, the stockings were sold to tourists, and marketed to Inverness, Edinburgh and even London. By the end of the 19th century, the Scottish Home Industries Association wrote, “Nothing can beat good Gairloch stockings.  Their superiority is well known to all who are in the habit of wearing them, for they have an elasticity and a softness which are only found in Shetland hose, but are much more durable.” The establishment of the Scottish Home Industries Association also allowed these women to sell their production for money rather than trading them with merchants for goods.

This is not the only instance of aristocratic women stepping in to aid crofting families during times of famine and great poverty. This also happened on the Isle of Lewis in the Hebrides when the Harris Tweed company was founded.

While this certainly added to the income of crofting families, it did nothing to reduce the economic dependence or the ongoing persistence of the medieval, landless “peasant” class of the ruling artistocrats. The fact that it took until the very end of the 19th century for women to actually earn a living, rather than groceries, for their work is telling. And even then, the cash they earned was in no way real recompense for the amount of work required for high quality garments.

Hand knitting never has been a method of making a “living wage.” Although it did put food in the mouths of the very poor, it did nothing to raise their overall standard of living. While knitting and selling stockings was the bedrock of the economy in Scotland’s Highlands and Islands for many years, it took a World War and the movement of women into the commercial marketplace for a true impact on that economy to happen.

My continuing research into the history of the sheep and wool that transformed Scotland (and England) is bitter-sweet when I think of how these small creatures influenced the culture and economy of those lands. They spawned tremendous creativity and ingenuity. They kept people warm, and also fed them. What haunts me, though, is that they have been so under-valued and under appreciated. Right now they are driving a mini-Renaissance in the knitting/crafting world as heritage and indigenous sheep are carving out a foothold in the craft marketplace. While I don’t mean to disparage merino wool, it has become ubiquitous….the “vanilla” yarn. Knitting with something entirely different is much more of an adventure. The possibilities of mixing wools with differing characteristics together to form unique “super wool” is exciting…each combination another learning experience. And, while the cost is sometimes breath-catching, it still is marketed below its real worth. Please continue to support the preservation of heritage sheep by buying and trying these unique and precious yarns.

Here are some links to more of the yarns I’m enjoying (and there will be more in upcoming posts):

And for those of you on this side of the pond, don’t forget:

The “problem” with small production vendors is the variability of availability (and sometimes the inconsistencies in small mill spinning). Slow-grown yarn takes time, and seasons, to come to market. But don’t give up the search. There are many, many small producers that you can locate through the Livestock Conservancy here, as well as learning more about the breeds featured in the Shave em to Save em list.

So until the next time, Stay Calm, and Craft On (with something special and different).