I did get a question from a friend about my last post, and my answer is this….It’s never too many if you have a way to share. The multiple sets of size 2 needles accumulated when I was just about exclusively knitting socks some years ago. I sometimes had as many as 5 different pairs going at once because I was trying out multiple techniques. In the next few days, these (and other sizes) will get seriously thinned out and gifted to others who can use them or regift them to beginning knitters and students. I remember times when the cost of good yarn and needles seemed beyond reach. It’s my turn to pass some of these along.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t get overwhelmed by my happy piles. I do. And aside from bringing in yarns that contribute to my current writing projects, I’m trying very hard not to add to the stash if there is any way I can use up whatever I have on hand. I’ve come to that time in my life when it is even more important to me to lighten my load, particularly if I have something I’m not using that can make someone else happy.
So here is the update to my dpns. I used dental elastics (like those used for braces) to group sets of 5 together. For the wooden ones, I kept the odd left-overs to use for things like cables, and replacements for when they break. There also are odd left-overs of metal needles that I’m keeping for the same reason, although I really am hoping that as I tidy up I’ll find their mates. After choosing ones with different lengths, the remainder (in the pile to the side) are on their way out the door. One of my knitting friends has just completed her first sock, so she’ll get first crack at expanding her sizes. And I do feel good having lightened my load, and better organized at least one very small corner of my world.
And there is more to say…
This Gairloch headband wasn’t quite finished in my last post, but after two evenings of knitting i-cord bind offs to finish both edges…it’s blocked and done. That was a ton of i-cord!
An aside: I’d forgotten the origins of the name I-cord. It came from Elizabeth Zimmerman, who dubbed it “idiot cord.” I love that woman! I wish I had known her.
The yarn I used for the headband came from West Lynne Wool in Shetland. I wasn’t initially drawn to it because the color selection was limited during my visit (like all small producers, timing is everything when they only do a single run in a year). None-the-less, having walked through a pasture with their lovely sheep, I did want to do a review of the yarn. And, as it turned out, the very bright purple was a great choice paired with the natural off-white.
Another of the issues with this kind of small production is that you can’t always know if next year’s lambs will give soft wool, or the breeding will emphasize the less desirable characteristics of the parents. Using all of these disparate fleeces together somewhat evens out the different characteristics across the batches of yarn. I did enjoy knitting this up. The sharp contrast in color contributed to the clarity of the design, but I also credit the sturdy spin of the yarn for giving great definition to the stitches. I wouldn’t hesitate to use this yarn for color work, or for cables and textured stitches that need to “pop” off the surface.
My thanks again to Cecil Tait for allowing me to use one of the photos of his lovely furniture here. It was a pleasure visiting during this past Wool Week.
New on the Needles…..
I’ve just cast on for the last of the Shetland Wool Week yarns — this is Donna’s Smith’s Langsoond. I’m using one of her patterns as well — the Straemsoond Hat.
In addition to raising her own sheep and dyeing her wool, Donna also teaches classes in natural dyeing. I didn’t dare sign up to take her class in September. I enjoy dyeing when I’m doing it, but don’t want to tempt myself further into taking on additional projects. I’ve learned to justify my appreciation for specially dyed yarn by buying from talented dyers like Donna.
I’m having a hard time thinking of a way to organize my thoughts about Donna, her yarn, and her immense talent. Go to her website, and you’ll see what I mean. As an artist and designer, she isn’t all that easy to categorize, but I’ll have a go at it.
Donna’s website shows her sleek, modern design aesthetic. With a nod to the color work and lace traditions of the Shetlands, she pares her designs to give clean lines and simplified outlines. That isn’t to say that her designs are “simple,” but they joyously pick and choose from the design heritage to make each project her own. If you are at all concerned about having enough yarn to complete a project, consider purchasing one of her kits.
Having been drawn to using what is around her, she captures the colors of the land, sea, and sky outside her door.
Langsoond is both the name for her business and the name of the stretch of water you can see from her croft. I chose an inky, blue-black color called “Fathom” as the contrast against the natural cream. I chose it because the color isn’t one thing, and because it changes in different light. It might have been achieved by an overdye of indigo on colored fleece. I’ve sent her a note asking about it, and will let you know when I get an answer.
Langsoond yarns come in both DK and lace weights, and the colors that dye her fleeces result in different varieties of color for each shearing. Be sure to buy sufficient quantities for your project, as you’re unlikely to find the exact match next year.
I also want to point out that this yarn is sufficiently soft (in my view) for next-to-skin wear, such as hats and cowls. It’s also beautifully spun to have incredible spring and bounce that I found captivating. Each time I stopped knitting, I kept squishing the wool in my hands because it felt so great. What a pleasure to knit!
The other project that just went on the needles is this wee mousie. He will be a grey mouse with a lavender jumper having purple and green highlights. Given all the grand-nieces being born in the recent past and near future, it seems likely that someone will need a guardian mouse. With all of my scrap yarn, it is likely there will be an entire family of guardian mice!
After casting on, I knit the bottom round piece and up to the main jumper design in one quick go. This is a small, quick, and really entertaining project to knit. It’s really nice to have something uncomplicated and outright fun in between bigger projects (and the never-ending gansey!)
Pretty cute! I did use a beanbag to give the mousie weight at the bottom, and also filled a muslin bag in the middle with lavender so it can be used as a “sleep aid.” The addition of a plastic can lid at the bottom is keeping the mouse’s bottom flat and upright. It can sit on a table or even at the head of a baby’s crib for a more relaxed, soothing sleep.
The pattern and yarn for the mouse came from Wee County Yarns. If you choose to use one of their patterns, it tells you exactly how many of their 10-gram miniballs you will need to complete the project. I really like that they offer this option, and I think it’s a brilliant marketing technique. There was quite a bit left over, so I thought this was a really good deal at $1.60/ball.
I used their Shetland wool for this little project, and the yarn is good…a little “crunchy” as Shetland often is, so I’d choose their lambswool miniballs for something like a hat or other garment to be worn next to the skin.
And now for something completely different…..
I wanted to share an interesting experience from this past week. Bruce has been working on a paper about the human brain and Artificial Intelligence, and has been digging into some of the online programs that have appeared and are becoming quite popular. I’ve read a few articles bemoaning student use of the programs to circumvent having to write term papers and such, and also a very good one on how teachers recognize AI over original writing.
Since we all “Google” everything these days, and since the search engines use AI to help you find information, I wanted to see just how good these platforms are at sorting out fact from fiction. Knitting history is a great topic to work with, as the amount of written material is reasonably small, and it’s pretty easy to quickly find misinformation. I was actually amazed at how clever (and wrong) one of the best programs is.
Meet Claude. “He” is a platform that is pretty robust, and unlike some of those that are really there just to churn out junk and misinformation, this university-based forum has quite a few “guardrails” in place to prevent much of the mis-use of AI we’re seeing. Never-the-less, my queries produced some real junk and misinformation. I’ve reproduced part of my conversation with Claude here, and although I haven’t checked each and every reference, I could spot so many errors that I wouldn’t rely on anything that follows here to have any accuracy. I’ve underlined things that either are wrong, or are just made up and don’t actually exist to give you an idea of what I found.
Sara: In 19th century Gairloch Scotland ladies knit kilt hose using a design with strong diagonal lines. Do you know anything about this?
Claude: Yes, I’m familiar with the type of kilt hose knitting you’re referring to from 19th century Gairloch, Scotland. This style is known as Gairloch or Wemyss patterning.
The Gairloch/Wemyss pattern features bold diagonal stripes or bars across the leg portion of the kilt hose. These diagonals were created using colored patterns knit into the stockings, rather than being formed from separate pieces of fabric sewn together.
(Sara’s note: This is the first time I’ve seen Wemyss associated with the Gairloch designs, and need to do a little digging to find out if it’s correct or an AI addition. To date I’ve not seen any references to Wemyss designs)
Claud continues:
This type of intricate color-work knitting was a point of pride among skilled knitters in the Scottish Highlands. Creating the perfect repeating diagonal patterns required great dexterity with double-pointed needles and keeping track of the color changes row-by-row.
While Gairloch knitters used the patterns on full-length hose historically worn as part of Highland dress, variations on the diagonal motifs were later adapted to modern kilt hose as well. The Gairloch/Wemyss patterns remain an iconic style representing this knitting tradition from the Scottish Highlands.
The diagonal motif is thought to have originated as a way for the clan chiefs and landowners of the region to distinctive hosiery for their tartans and estates. The strong angled lines helped identify which clan or family the wearer belonged to.
(Sara’s note: Other than the Gairloch pattern I mention in the last post, I’ve not seen anything that I’d call an adaptation. It would be interesting to do a little more digging here, but I think it’s a fabrication. The diagonal motif couldn’t help you identify anything; particularly a clan or family that would be distinguished by a plaid, or in the case of the illustration of a 19th century MacKenzie pair, by the use of the stag head in the design).
Sara: Are there variations of the Gairloch patterns specifically?
Claude: Yes, there are several documented variations on the classic Gairloch/Wemyss diagonal kilt hose patterns from 19th century Scotland:
Straight Gairloch Pattern This is the most well-known version, featuring straight diagonal lines or bars across the leg portion of the kilt hose. The lines could be varied in thickness and spacing.
Zig-Zag Gairloch Pattern Instead of straight diagonals, this version incorporated a zig-zag or chevron patterned diagonal across the leg.
Broken Stripe Gairloch This had the diagonal lines “broken” or interrupted periodically by perpendicular lines or other design elements.
Crossed Gairloch The diagonal lines crossed over each other in an interlaced motif on this variation.
Examples and illustrations of these different Gairloch styles can be found in publications like the Scottish Kilt Hose Knitting Traditions by Gladys Milton.
(Sara’s note: There is no such publication, and other that what Claude calls the Straight Gairloch pattern, I’ve found no references to zig-zag, broken stripe, or crossed designs.)
Claude also provided me with numerous other references. Some of them exist, and do have references to Gairloch knitting (such as Richard Rutt’s famous A History of Hand Knitting). After checking out all of the references, I confronted Claude about all of the errors. I got from him a long apology where he admitted that he had a very limited knowledge of the topic I had presented, and had “made up” the references and much of the text. I wish I had thought to capture that response, as it was both shocking and actually, pretty humorous. Unfortunately, this is the kind of thing that’s really quickly leaking out into the world and corrupting knowledge. It’s not only politics that has become the dumping ground for “alternate facts.” In AI parlance, things that are fabrications are called “hallucinations.” I think that’s a great title.
I do often use the internet as a starting point in my research. Fortunately, I know where there are archival resources I can check to back up what I find. It is tempting to skip that step, but I’ve learned some lessons the hard way. Just sayin’!
Meanwhile….
After heading down rabbit holes and getting far into the weeds, I think it’s time to return to the needles. Something I can rely on is what is in my hands. As I work with and review yarns, I have to rely solely on my experience and feelings. I offer you my opinions, and that is all they are. When I talk about knitting history, I write what I know and can back up by researching real museum collections and archives to back up my observations. As with my interactions with Claude, I offer you a grain of salt to go with my facts.
So, until the next time, keep calm, craft on, and approach the world with a hefty dose of skepticism!
Thank you Sara for all you do! I love reading your blog and seeing the projects you create.