Holden Shawlette from The Artful Yarn - Day 5

Fabulous Fiber Fear Fighting Formulas!

It’s waiting for me, lurking at the end of this lovely project.  That skill I’ve not yet been able to conquer:  the picot bind-off.

I’ve botched more picots that I care to admit.  I have a few shawls which don’t display the pretty edging the picot is meant to be; they look as if they’ve developed some sort of rash in their final rows.  Another looks more like a saw blade than a delicate trim—nothing you’d want anywhere near your neck.  I fear for the finale of this piece.

Still, there’s a more immediate hurdle than my picot-deficiency. It’s the looming threat of not having enough yarn.  Picot takes a lot of stitches—three to every existing stitch.  And there are a lot of existing stitches here—309 to be exact.  The ball of yarn I have left isn’t looking hefty enough to go the distance.

Math to the rescue!  No, really—stick with me and I’ll show you how.

First, I need to calculate the number of stitches I have left to make.  Here’s what I listed:

• 2 garter stitch rows = 309 x 2 = 618
• One Picot row - 309 existing stitches x 3 picot stitches per existing stitch = 927
• Add those two together 618 + 927 = 1,545. I have 1,545 stitches yet to make.

Now, I have to figure out how many inches I’m using per stitch. 

It’s not hard to do.  Since each stitch makes a trip around my needles, if I wrap the yarn 10 times around my needle and measure the length I used, I’ll get the distance of 10 stitches. In this case, 10 stitches used 6.75 inches.  It’s important not to round out the numbers here, because we’re dealing with such a high volume.

Take the data you have and do the math:

• If we’re dealing in units of 10 stitches, then I must divide my 1,545 total stitches needed by 10, or 154.5.  This tells me I have to knit 154.5 units of 10 stitches before I am done.
• If I know each 10-stitch unit needs 6.75 inches, then I just multiply 6.75 x 154.5 = 1,042 inches, or more practically, a hair under 87 feet (1,042÷12)

How do I know if I have 87 feet left in my ball?  The fastest way is to wrap my yarn around a ruler 87 times.  

Turns out I have more than enough yarn.  Panic obliterated!  Well, at least the yarn panic.  Stay tuned to see if my skill-based panic is warranted.

Davis Street Shawl from CloseKnit - Done!

Not every project changes dramatically when you block it.  Lace projects certainly do.  Many sweaters do.  This doesn’t.

It does feel as if it’s lightened up a bit, but I was baffled by my nemesis the picot--they seem to look even more uneven now.  I want it to look like someone who really knew what they were doing made this.  A simple design beautifully executed.

Eh, not so much.

Would I feel differently if it were a vibrant, lush color instead of this neutral I deliberately chose for myself?  I’m not sure.  I do like it, and it looks nice--if basic--on, and basic was what I was shooting for when I chose beige.

I suspect I just don’t do basic well.  Unless basic is a black turtleneck...I seem to own dozens of those.  They show off my scarves so well (basic or not!).

Aha!  I just now realized what this basic shawl needs:  a rockingly un-basic shawl pin.

Excuse me, I have to go shopping now...

Davis Street Shawl from CloseKnit -Day 4

Well, now, ain’t it always the way...

If you’re going to make a big, ugly mistake that you won’t be able to undo, it’s never going to happen on the back of a shawl, is it?  Of course not.  The unfair law of the knitting universe is that such a gaff will happen in the most visible spot.  Right at the top edge, the part that will be near your face or tied in front.

And you know, it won’t matter whether or not anyone else can see it.  Good knitters might be able to spot it in the photo below, but most people probably will never notice it enough to point it out.  Nearly all of the population will never be aware enough of this mistake to make one of those intended-to-be-charming-but-not-really inquiries of “Did you make that?”  Translation:  because it looks hand-made (and not in the complimentary sense).

Whether or not you know the botched picot--which I have come to call the “wart picot”--is there, I know it is there.  Actually, from this photo, even my lovely dog Bella knows it is there. My goal for this project, to master the picot, has not been met.  I’ve gotten much better at the picot, yes, but about four inches from the edge the picot mastered me.

The lesson here is to wear it anyway.  To adorn my shoulders with the fruits of my craft because it is soft and fluffy and deliciously warm.  This is the kind of shawl I will curl around my neck when I have a sore throat or when I have a bad day.

Because the real truth of this shawl is that like the picot edging, one bad bit doesn’t kill the whole endeavor.

So I’ll block it lovingly tomorrow, treating it as tenderly as all my other shawls.  I’ll see if I can manipulate that wart to hide beside its mastered brothers and sisters. 

And I will wear it either way.

Davis Street Shawl from CloseKnit -Day 2

What's the point?

I’m not a big fan of edge-up shawls.  The work goes more slowly with each row, and it’s always tough to gauge when to stop.  I always end up measuring back from the yarn end to make sure I’ve got enough for the bind off row, and I never get it right.  Being as tall as I am, I need all the length I can squeeze out of a ball of yarn, so I try never to stop until I absolutely have to. Which gets me into trouble.

Still, that’s not what unnerves me about this shawl.  It’s those picots, those little bumps waiting for me at the end of every row.  They look so cute in the photos--all sweet and scallop-y.  Subtler than pom-poms but with more style than a selvedge edge.  I want them to work, want them to look like clever trimming instead of ugly growths bulging off the end of each row.  

Some rows I look at the funny bump and think it just looks like my shawl has warts. Other rows I hold it up and think, “eh, not so bad.”  The fuzz and the color work against me here...they make it hard to judge.

I know there are at least three that I totally botched, but I’m hoping they won’t show.  I’m choosing to soldier on, trusting that there will be strength in numbers.  You know what they say, “never judge September apples in June.”  I’m trying not to judge a triangle by only it’s point.

And maybe that’s the point (pun intended).  Sometimes we only see the beauty of our experience in hindsight.

Davis Street Shawl from CloseKnit -Day 1

Mostly I think of shawls as decorative, but this project looked so practical and cozy I opted for a bit of an experiment: function. 

The pattern itself lends a bit of decoration with the picot trim (with which I confess I've not had much past success), so I chose the Nashua Handknits Creative Focus Brushed Alpaca in a very basic neutral color. Will the oatmeal shade--called "gray heather"--prove versatile or boring? It's too soon to tell, but I do find myself wishing I had more neutral knit pieces from time to time. My attraction to vibrant colors isn't always the smartest choice, but when faced with a shelf full of gorgeous hues at the yarn store, it's hard to think practically. 

The fuzzy lofty nature of this yarn certainly feels like warmth is in store. There's a bit of scratchiness on the needles, but it may be the kind that disappears at the blocking stage. Most of my worries center around the picot edge--I don't have a good track record with this stitch at all. This shawl will either mark my victory over the picot--or it's victory over me. 


Care to make a prediction?

Knit Along: Peony Scarf from Gabriella's - Day 3

Caution: Author Brain at Work

I’m a professional. I wield words for a living. So I should be able to make 4.5 inches of size 4 needle stockinette stitch interesting. I could start a conversation about the lovely flow of the pastel colors. Describe the colorway as something Lilly Pulitzer would drool over. Compare the delicate practicality of this fiber and how it will make such a contrast to the next yarn, which is named Lust, which should give you a pretty good idea how luscious it feels. This scarf is its own Jane Austen novel--Sin and Sensibility. There. Professional at work. Isn't it interesting?

Not really. This is a pastel triathalon. The knitting equivalent of a month-late baby. In August. In Georgia. And remember, it has a bigger twin right behind it.

Focus, Allie. Finish this part.

I’m worried, now, that in a few rows when I start the picot bind-off, that it will be beyond my skills and I’ll have to grovel to this scarf and beg its mercy to please allow me to finish. Allie Pleiter, experienced knitter, done in by a picot bind off. Not something significant like an Aran cable or the Kitchner stitch, just a silly little bind-off.

And picot--that’s one of those bind-em-off-then-put-em-back-on-then-move-the-whole-thing-back-onto-the-left-needle kinds of bind offs, isn’t it? The kind where you end up doing 12 stitches for every original stitch...

...and remember, there were over 400 of those...

It may be a very long weekend. My next post may be cranky indeed.

Next time I say “bring it on,” stick me with the sharpest double-pointed needle you can find.