Through The Yarny Curtain

Name that Tool

It’s a busy time of year, what with Christmas coming up and my friend Stacy getting married on January 2. I have a long list of things to do, and a growing panic that I won’t get everything done. I don’t really have time to sort through all the weaving things I bought last weekend, but I have not been able to entirely ignore the siren call of my new storage unit. I’ve gone twice, for about 1/2 hour each time.

I started cleaning the dust off the Macomber loom. I looked through 2 boxes of books and selected a few to bring home now (more on this in another post over the weekend). I sorted through a basket full of miscellaneous tools, most of which were shuttles of various types and sizes.

In the basket of miscellaneous tools, I found four variations on a tool, but I don’t know what it is. At first I thought that they were pieces to be assembled into something else; now I think they are their own thing. But I don’t know what that thing is. Can you name that tool in three pictures?

Here they are in the closed position. The right-hand metal band on each piece slides down so that the middle piece can be folded out.

Here’s what they look like in the open position. When the middle piece is folded out, you can see that it has holes drilled all along it. I’m not sure if the eye hooks come out so that you can move that middle piece so it will be a different length. I was afraid I would break the tool if I tried to remove the eye hook, so didn’t play with it at all.

On the back side, the tools have sharp pointy teeth at each end. It was these teeth that made me think that these were parts of a larger object. I thought they were fasteners to connect two pieces of wood.

The only reason I’m thinking each might be an individual tool is because so far I haven’t found any other parts that seem to attach to these. The four items are all different sizes and different brands, so they do not attach to each other. I do have two or three bundles of long pieces of wood that I haven’t yet unbundled. The cursory glance I gave those bundles when we were loading and unloading the van led me to believe that they are full of warp sticks and lease sticks, but it’s possible that I might find pieces that belong with these four mystery pieces. Since I don’t know what the four mystery pieces actually are, I might not recognize other pieces that belong with them!

So, interwebs, what say you? Can you help a newbie weaver out? What are these things?

OLAD

OLAD = Obsessive Loom Acquisition Disorder. Weavers on Ravelry often joke about the way weavers tend to acquire a herd of looms. When they get a new loom, they say things like, “OLAD strikes again!” I don’t like the term, but it’s probably fair to say that it applied to me this past week. It all started when I wandered onto Craigslist looking at loom ads because I want a loom small enough to fold up and fit in the back seat of my car so that I can take workshops and classes at my local guild. I came across this ad:

These are all in storage currently. Mom has retired from weaving. There is a 10×12 Macomber 48″, a 36″ Harrisville, and a mystery loom in a wardrobe box that was purchased but not opened or used. There are many additional items and instructional books and magazines concerning the craft. There is also a number of bags containing spools of various types and colors of thread used for weaving. The plan is to get it all gone at once to someone interested in weaving as a life style. I will consider a reasonable offer, but the asking price has been reduced to $1,500.00 Thank you for your consideration.

I wasn’t looking for any other non-portable looms. I haven’t even used the floor loom I already have — it’s been sitting in my dining room since February, looking forlorn! I don’t have space in my house for 3 more looms either. But if I wanted a brand new Macomber, the same style mentioned would cost almost $6000. A new Harrisville of that size is $2500 or so. I could keep two of the four (counting the one I have) looms and sell the other two, perhaps recouping most or all the cost of the entire storage unit.

So I e-mailed the seller. How long have the looms been in storage? Are they operational? Answers: 5 years. Yes, I think so, though an ex-friend cut the cords on the Harrisville.

I asked my husband what he thought. “Whatever you want to do,” he said. “But you probably don’t want to bring them straight in the house. They might need cleaning and we don’t have space.”

And so I went ahead. I asked about sizes of things so I could figure out the right size truck to rent. I arranged for a 9′ Uhaul cargo van and a climate controlled storage unit. I asked a friend to make the 2 hour trip to Tampa and back with me to help me retrieve the looms. And yesterday, I set out on the epic adventure.

It started a little bumpy. My friend arrived at the UHaul just after I did, but she was clearly sick. I told her to go home and rest and called my father. A couple of days before, he’d volunteered to go with me, but I’d already asked my friend. He said he could still go, and I’m so glad he came! He’s an excellent packer and I don’t think we would have fit everything in the truck if he wasn’t there! The Uhaul was out of keys to the exterior building of the door where my unit is. The manager ran to Lowe’s to get keys made while another employee worked through all the paperwork with me and showed me the unit. I still had to wait an additional 10 minutes for the manager to get back; I wasn’t sure I’d be back before they closed for the day and I needed to be sure we could get into the unit. Of course, I sat in the Uhaul van and crocheted while I waited.

After that, it was smooth sailing. I picked up my father and we drove down to Tampa. We arrived at the unit at pretty much the same time as the seller. The condition and quantity of items was just as described:

In fact, there was another loom in there that the seller didn’t know about. See those pieces on the left hand side, just under the pipes? That’s another loom. It’s a 4-shaft, 4-treadle counterbalance loom with about a 30″ weaving width. I think all the pieces are there, but it looks like it has some damage to the wood and I’m not sure if it will be salvageable. The bags you see in the picture are mostly full of yarn. Some of the boxes hold yarn, but most of them are weaving and spinning magazines and books. I’ve only taken a quick look through them, but there’s only one or two books that I already own and several out-of-print books that were on my wish list. You can’t see the tapestry loom, the basket full of various types of shuttles, the 3 warping boards, an umbrella swift, and few miscellaneous pieces of equipment whose function remains a mystery to me.

We packed everything into the van and headed back home. My husband met us at our storage unit and helped us unpack. As we put things into the new storage unit, I decided to throw out some of the rug yarn (those big bags of white stuff in the back of the picture above). The bags were fragile. They split — or may have been chewed by rodents. I didn’t want to take a chance, so it went straight to the trash.

Now I have a storage unit of my own.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be cleaning and sorting. I’m sure more will be thrown away. Some things will come home with me. Some will be sold or donated or gifted. I’ll keep you posted on my progress!

Weaving Shaker Rugs by Mary Elva Congleton Erf

Weaving Shaker Rugs: Traditional Techniques to Create Beautiful Reproduction Rugs and Tapes by Mary Elva Congleton Erf (affiliate link)

Erf is an accomplished weaver who has studied Shaker textiles for at least 30 years and has woven many reproduction rugs (and other textiles) which appear in Shaker museums. Her introduction describes the history of Shaker textile production, provides background on the Shaker Millenial Laws which governed all aspects of Shaker life including the colors used in textiles created in the Shaker villages, and tells how she discovered a familial connection to one of the Shaker communities.

In the introduction, Erf mentions that Shakers used rugs created using a variety of techniques. However, all the rugs in the second half of the book are “weft-plied rugs.” This term is never explicitly defined in the book, and I was confused until I got to the end of the introductory material, where she describes the general steps of recreating the rugs. It means that the Shakers took three (or, more rarely, four) strands of finished carpet wool yarn and plied them together on a spinning wheel, using the newly created chunky yarn as the weft in the rugs. The three strands were each a different color, creating a barber pole look in the new yarn. Sometimes the new yarn was plied with a Z twist (spun in a clockwise direction) and sometimes it was plied with an S twist (spun in a counterclockwise direction). Often, one rug contains both Z twist and S twist yarns. The Shakers placed Z and S twist yarns next to each other in the weaving, which creates chevron patterns. Wool fabric strips were used as weft to separate patterned sections of the plied wool weft. The book focuses on the weft-plied rugs because this style is known to be created by the Shakers themselves not commercially made, the technique is unique, and several examples of original weft-plied rugs still exist.

The second part of the book describes the process of reproducing approximately 20 specific rugs which are part of museum collections. This section of the book is organized by Shaker community; the rugs represented in the book come from five different communities in the eastern United States. For each rug, the author starts with a page analyzing the details of the original rug, including the dimensions of the rug, the type of yarn and fabric used for warp and weft, the twist direction of the weft yarns, and any other distinguishing characteristics. She also includes at least one picture of the original rug. This analysis is followed by the details of how to reproduce that rug, including which yarns and fabrics she used and which Cushing acid dyes she used to make colors that match those in the original rug. Many of the rugs are finished with handwoven bias tape; the book also includes analysis of the tapes and instructions on weaving them.

For the most part, I enjoyed reading this book. I loved seeing pictures of the original rugs and the many marginal boxes containing quotes from the dyeing and weaving journals kept by the Shakers. I did find the book to be rather repetitive, but a good deal of that repetitiveness reflects an expectation that people won’t read the book all the way through. For example, in the introduction, at the end of every description on how to create a reproduction rug, and in the Glossary, Erf explains that the finished rugs will need to be pressed with a heavy iron and that she has a dry cleaner in her town who will do this for her. Even if you’re skipping around in the book, you aren’t going to miss this potentially important information! Some of the repetitiveness is not so easily forgiven. The introduction is particularly disjointed. I think of the introduction in this type of book as one long essay. In this book, each heading within the introduction is like its own essay, with much repetition of information under other headings, particularly of the Millenial Law quote prescribing certain color schemes, but allowing that “other kinds now in use may be worn out.”

I’m always on the hunt for fiber arts books that are more than just patterns or drafts. I love books of essays or history and detailed techniques. Weaving Shaker Rugs has all of this, as well as detailed instructions for making the Shaker-style rugs. Since following the instructions requires flipping back and forth between the general instructions in the introduction, the pages for the specific rug you’re attempting to reproduce, the glossary, and cross-references in Peter Collingwood’s out-of-print book The Techniques of Rug Weaving, I expect it will be challenging for anyone, especially a new weaver like me, to actually create a Shaker rug using this book. While the projects are more involved than I’m ready to take on as a fledgling weaver, I did learn a lot about the Shakers and rug weaving. I enjoyed reading the book from cover to cover and will keep it on my shelf for when I’m ready to tackle a Shaker-style rug!

The Other Knitter

On the Friday before Thanksgiving, I’m on a plane flying north for 10 days of family fun and I’m not in my usual traveling groove. I’ve flown a great deal in the last four years, usually alone but also with my husband, and I have habits. Whenever possible, I pack in a carry on only. I have Global Entry which gives me automatic TSA Pre-check so I arrive at the airport about 1.5 hours before my flight, sail through security, and once I’m in my terminal eat a meal if it’s mealtime. I have a short wait before boarding and I sit in an aisle seat as close to the front of the plane as possible. While I’m waiting to board and while I’m on the plane, I listen to podcasts and knit. I do not make small talk with my seat mates. When the plane lands, I’m out of there as quickly as possible and don’t have to go to baggage claim since I’m packed only in a carry on.

These habits are all part of a personal defense mechanism. I’m an introverted person and have a difficult time filtering out noise. All the stimuli of random conversations and interactions with strangers is exhausting. Since I fly in and out of Orlando, my flights are always full of families with small children on their way to and from the theme parks. As a result, there’s higher levels of noise than might be the case if I was flying in and out of any other airport in the country. In addition, when I started flying so much it was because I was flying to New Jersey every other week, helping my mother-in-law with the details of life after several deaths in the family. I was hanging on by an emotional thread and would randomly burst into tears. I was terrified that this might happen on a flight, where I had no means of escape from scrutiny. I had no bandwidth for handling even inane conversations. And so I didn’t engage. I popped in my headphones and focused on my knitting. It was the only way I made it through those trips, putting on a façade of normalcy and shutting out everyone around me. And now, it’s a habit.

But on this flight, I’m traveling with my parents. My father likes to get to the airport super early. They have bags to check and might not get to go through the shorter TSA Pre-check line. We’re flying on Southwest and my father has status since he flies on that airline every week for work, so they do end up with Pre-check, but we didn’t know that was going to happen. We get their bags dropped off, sail through security, get breakfast at Au Bon Pain and are still at the gate 2 hours before our flight is scheduled to depart.

My project for this trip is a new scarf for charity. I worked out a design a couple of days before we left and cast on while waiting to board. I knit about 3 inches and realize I don’t like how wide it is, so rip it all out and start again. I knit 3 inches and this time it’s too narrow. I rip it out again. Finally it’s time to board. My father boards before either my mother or I, thanks to his status, and saves us a row close to the front of the plane. I’m in the window seat. My mom is chatty, so I only have one ear bud in, on the side by the window, so I can halfway listen to a podcast and still hear my mom when she starts talking. I cast on again, rearranging the order of the cables, and knit another 3 inches. This time, I’m happy with the width. I put the knitting down for a minute and stretch out my fingers and wrist, looking around the plane for the first time since we took off. And that’s when I see The Other Knitter.

Suddenly, it strikes me that I’ve never seen another knitter or crocheter on any of my flights. Why is this? Years ago, on a flight home from Boston, I was sitting in front of a high school classmate. There was only 13 people in my high school graduating class; there are millions of knitters in the United States and many knit on planes. It’s far more likely that I might run into a knitter than into a high school classmate. But I’ve never seen another knitter.

The Other Knitter is sitting one row in front of me, on the opposite side of the plane, in the middle seat. I realize that I’d vaguely heard the woman directly in front of me telling her son he could sit with Nana. The three seats in front of me contain a husband and wife and a son about 10 or 11. Across the aisle is another boy of similar age, Nana (The Other Knitter), and a gentleman I take to be Nana’s husband.

I find myself fascinated by The Other Knitter. I strain my neck to see if I can figure out what she’s knitting. Her pattern is on the tray in front of her and she’s working with royal blue yarn. She’s on the second page of the pattern, and there’s a picture of the finished object, but I can’t quite see it. At first, I think she’s making a sweater. But the pattern’s only two pages long and when The Other Knitter puts her knitting back into her clear plastic bag and gets up to use the restroom, I can see she only has two skeins of yarn with her, including the one she’s knitting now. Perhaps a sweater for one of the grandkids? I can’t tell.

Throughout the flight, I keep looking at The Other Knitter. I want to talk to her, to find out what she’s knitting and for whom. Does she like her yarn and pattern? Is she heading home after a family vacation at the parks or is she leaving home for Thanksgiving at another relative’s home? Is she on Ravelry? I feel like a stalker or paparazzi or a fan girl. I want to take her picture, but stop myself. It’s a step too far. What’s the matter with me? I didn’t get like this on the few occasions when I’ve been around celebrities!

We’re starting our descent into Hartford, Connecticut when my mother notices The Other Knitter. She nudges me. “There’s another knitter over there.”

“I know,” I say, casually, like my heart didn’t start beating a little faster when I first saw those needles working the royal blue yarn a couple of hours ago.

When our flight lands, we all gather up our things and head to the baggage claim. I don’t see The Other Knitter there, but I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m sorry I was too far away and boxed in the corner by the window to talk to her, too afraid to get up and ask her what she was making. I’ve missed the opportunity to meet someone new and perhaps make a friend. Maybe next time.

A Traveling Scarf

I have been knitting, crocheting, spinning, and weaving away, but have not been writing posts on each of my finished projects. I received a private message on Ravelry, asking for the details of this project, so thought I’d write it up to share with all of you!

Official Stats

Date Started: September 16, 2015
Date Finished: September 28, 2015
Pattern: as discussed below
Yarn: Cascade Pinwheel in Autumn Leaves (#21)
Needles: US 8 , 5.0 mm
Finished Dimensions: I forgot to write down the measurements; but approximately 6″ x 65″
Made for: Charity
Ravelry Project Page
PDF version of this pattern: A Traveling Scarf

About this Project

I bought the Pinwheel yarn specifically to knit for charity. I got two skeins of most colors so I could make matching sets with a scarf, mittens, and hat. The scarf takes one skein and I can just squeak a hat and mittens out of a second. For three colorways, I only had one skein because that was all that the shop had. In September, I decided to knit up a couple of those skeins into scarves. I looked at the free patterns on Ravelry, but didn’t find anything that caught my eye that I hadn’t already knit. So I pulled out my Barbara Walker treasuries and found stitch patterns. This scarf uses the Traveling Rib pattern from page 180 of A Fourth Treasury of Knitting Patterns.

When I first started this project, I planned to add a couple selvedge stitches, but after knitting the repeat a couple times, I didn’t like how that looked, so I ripped it out and started over, using just the stitches for the pattern. Ribbing isn’t going to roll and makes a nice stretchy fabric. It doesn’t really need a frame to give the fabric structure.

Abbreviations:

K = Knit
P = Purl
RS = Right Side
WS = Wrong Side

This pattern uses a 7 stitch repeat. I’ve been casting on somewhere close to 40 stitches for all the scarves I’ve made with Pinwheel. This gives me a finished scarf of 5″ to 6″ wide and 60″ to 65″ long, depending on the stitch pattern. For this particular pattern, I assumed the ribbing would pull the fabric in so chose to cast on more stitches than usual. I cast on 7 repeats (49 stitches), using the long tail cast on, which is my default.

Row 1 (RS): K1, *P3, K4* 5 times, end P3, K3
Row 2 (WS): P2, *K4, P3* 5 times, end K4, P1
Row 3. K2, *P3, K4* 5 times, end P3, K2
Row 4: P1, *K4, P3* 5 times, end K4, P2
Row 5: K3, *P3, K4* 5 times, end P3, K1
Row 6: *K4, P3* repeat to end of row
Row 7: *K4, P3* repeat to end of row
Row 8: K3, *P3, K4* 5 times, end P3, K1
Row 9: P1, *K4, P3* 5 times, K4, P2
Row 10: K2, *P3, K4* 5 times, end P3, K2
Row 11: P2, *K4, P3* 5 times, end K4, P1
Row 12: K1, *P3, K4* 5 times, end P3, K3
Row 13: *P3, K4* repeat to end of row
Row 14: *P3, K4* repeat to end of row

Repeat Rows 1 – 14 until scarf is desired length, ending on either Row 6 or 13. BO loosely and in pattern. In this case, that means working Row 7 or 14 as written, and passing the preceding stitch over the just worked stitch as you work across the row, using larger needles if needed to keep your bind off loose.

This scarf is reversible; I’ve only marked a right side and wrong side in the pattern to help keep track of where you are. If you look closely at the pattern, it may appear that rows repeat, but while the instructions repeat, you are on the opposite side of the fabric when you work it (Rows 1 & 12, 2 & 11, 3 & 10, 4 & 9, 5 & 8, 6 & 7, 13 & 14). As a result, if you put your work down and come back to it later, it may be difficult for you to tell where you are in the pattern. If you think you’re on Row 1 and you were really on Row 12 or vice versa, you will find that the direction of your rib changes midstream! You may want to mark the right side of the work, by hanging a locking stitch marker on that side.