SABLE is a tongue in cheek acronym that stands for Stash - Acquisition – Beyond – Life – Expectancy.

I suddenly have SABLE in fabric and sewing patterns. A friend moved out of state to live with her daughter, leaving a few of her friends to clean out her storage unit. I have the fabric and patterns.

The fabric is piled in a six foot by four foot mountain in my living room waiting on me to sort, measure, label, fold, store and start using. I joked to one friend that it was like the Devil’s Tower monument in “Close Encounters Of The Third Kind”

Since I still don’t have the camera I want, let us begin with some direction for this project.

Any new project is going to begin with the idea of what is desired of it.  We’ve covered this part in the design project, but for the purpose of this 365 Blog Project, let me state that my purpose for this techniques project is to give you, the reader and viewer, the techniques that you need to take either your original design or a design you get from some other designer (including from my offerings) to a finished project.

I will cover various techniques for every stage of a project: from cast on to bind off, increases, decreases, sock heel construction, ribbings, cables, chart and pattern reading, adjusting for fit, and many, many more.

I will include charts, photos and where and possible videos to give you the most complete view of how to do all this.

Also, the blog will remain a free offering, though I will be offing some of my designs for sale and download.  Also, I plan to add a Paypal donate button in the next few days for those that feel that they can help me defray the costs of maintaining this website and doing the course.

So, let us begin!

The last couple weeks have been beyond challenging.  Between hospitals, major surgery and a stint in ICU, I’ve been too ill and in too much pain to knit.  This morning, I was finally able and willing to pick up my knitting needles and move forward on knitting more on the Grand Circle Coat.

I have to admit that when all is said and done, that creating is the reason for doing this.  Not the need for a warm sweater, or wanting to impress others with the technical expertise you have, or even the desire for something from your own hands, but the power to take charge and CREATE is the power to heal oneself.

So, I’m going to close this 365 Project on Knitting Design a day early with this thought. Design because you can, create because it brings life into all areas of your life, and enjoy the results.  You and the world will be a bit better for it.

A dye lot is a batch (or lot) of yarn dyed in the same vat at the same time.  It gives the knitter confidence that there will not be subtle changes in the color in the yarn that will show in the finished project.

Different dye lots may have subtle changes in the shade of the yarn.  Slight variations in the amount of dye concentration in the dye vat, time in the vat, or temperature of the dye bath can all result in slight differences, as can slight differences in the original color of the wool.  These differences may not be noticeable even in two skeins on the same shelf, but would show up as a different color in a finished project.

In my last post, I assumed that yarn purchased would be in the quantities needed for the project in mind.  While local yarn shops try to keep sufficient quantity in stock for project-quantity purchases, there are some work-arounds to minimize any differences in dye lot.

First is simply to do a multi-color project.  Fairisle patterns have the strength that the amount needed of any one color is small, and even if you have two different dye lots differing in shade, it is nearly impossible to notice.

Second is to blend the yarns by alternating the two different dye lots every other row.

A third method is to separate the change by working a band of a contrasting color between two areas of differing dye lots.

I’ve sometimes heard the idea that that one can handle this by re-dying the whole project to cover up the change.  I’ve never seen this done successfully.

Some manufacturers advertise that they produce “no dye lot” yarns.  I used one of these yarns for my Leaf Square coverlet.  There are dye lot differences that show up quite well, thank you.  I ended up simply shrugging my shoulders.  A dye lot difference, even if obvious, is only a problem if you decide it is one.

Nearly thirty years ago, my new husband and I were in New England and doing some of the tourist-y things I had never done even though I had grown up in the area.

I had recently knit my husband an all-wool Icelandic style sweater of yarn my step-mother had given me.

We went to the top of Mount Washington in New Hampshire.  At about 6,200 feet it’s not a mountain by the standards in Colorado, but there is nothing taller on the eastern seaboard.  While the temperature at the base was seasonable for late May – mild and a light breeze – the weather at the top was forty degrees colder with a stiff wind that made for a sub-zero wind chill.

My husband was fine in the substantial sweater that he had also been comfortable in at the base.  I darn near froze in the acrylic sweater I had made while I was in college, that being all I could afford at the time.

Same knitter.  Same weight of yarn.  Different fiber content.  Different results.

I got my spouse to stop at a yarn shop I spotted.  You could have pushed me over with a feather when I saw how much I would have to spend to make myself an all-wool sweater.  It equated to well over a week’s pay.  While the yarns on offer were lovely, I wailed to the shop owner “…there has to be a cheaper way!”

The shop owner was smart – she also carried unspun wool from local sheep farms, and some spinning wheels and drop spindles.  She replied that I could make my own yarn and thereby take even more control over my finished product.

So it was that less than thirty minutes later I had a bag full of brown wool, a drop spindle, and a short lesson in spinning.  I was off and running and with the help of my local library, I soon acquired a substantial knowledge base on the art and history of hand spun yarns.  By the end of that first bag of wool, I was spinning yarns to the weight I preferred.

The make-your-own is still my best answer for those that wail as I did that natural fiber yarns are too expensive for them.

The next best is the buy direct from the producer route that my step-mother had followed.  This can be a good route, as there are a number of locally-owned small fiber mills around the country, and you are then supporting local fiber farms that sell their production to these mills.

Other options exist; including sales at yarn shops, thrift store finds, re-using the yarn from old sweaters from the attic, making craft yarns from old t-shirts, even inheriting yarn stashes from deceased relatives.

I do use synthetic yarns in some cases.  The cost of these are easy to fit into a budget, and they make a great way to test a pattern.  Further iterations can be done in hand spun or a more costly mill spun yarn if needed.  The Hugs & Kisses camisole from a year ago is just such a project.  My idea from the start has been to do it a second time in hand spun silk once I work out the pattern.

As for the life-in-the-way, I have been sick for the past several days, and am still not up to much.  I hope to have some upgrades done in the studio this week, but it isn’t looking too likely at the moment.  My current target to start the Techniques Project is the middle of February.

Any knitter has heard it: “Wool is always itchy” or “I’m allergic to ___” (Wool or angora rabbit most frequently, but I’ve never heard anyone say that they were allergic to silk.)

The first is a generality that can be easily overcome by handing the doubter something knit of a fine, soft wool.  The problem most have had in the past is the sorry treatment most commercially processed wool has endured. There are hundreds of breeds of sheep on this planet.

Picking a breed of sheep that has wool best suited to making carpets is not the best way to make next-to-the-skin clothing. Nora Leonard Roy published a Periodic Chart for knitting fibers that puts this into a easy to understand graphic.  The sides of the chart are fibers ideally suited for next to to the skin, and the cellulose fibers also have the rarest incidence of true allergy issues.

Not that wool is really the problem either, as this short article on wool allergies goes into.  Other research that I’ve read on allergies goes into the fact that sensitivities are cumulative.  That means that a person is likely to have a range of sensitivities, and a reaction to one specific allergen is most likely comprised of several other triggers layered one on top of another.

Here is a scenario to illustrate:  A friend comes to you saying that she can’t wear the lovely wool scarf you made, as she had a rash the morning after she wore it to dinner.  She doesn’t understand this, as she wore it a dozen times before.

You two decide to look into this more, and you ask what was different about this time.  She says that she went to pick up her husband’s suit from the dry cleaners. (dry cleaning chemicals are solvents) She visited her friend that keeps angora rabbits and played with some of them.  (dander and saliva from rabbits or cats – both of which clean themselves – can trigger reactions in sensitive people) She had the shellfish appetizer at dinner (a common trigger), and the spinach salad with strawberries (another common allergen), and the wine was a lesser-known brand that had sulfites.

None of the allergens she came in contact with were enough by themselves to trigger an immediate reaction, but they worked together to trigger a mild allergic reaction.  Make no mistake, some people are seriously – even deathly – allergic to substances, but this is fairly rare.

Where does this leave the designer?  If you look at the knitter’s periodic chart linked above, there are numerous options.  Various projects over the past year have used fibers such as wool, acrylic, cotton, silk and alpaca.  I also have linen and bamboo in the spinning stash at the moment.

Some yarns have considerable halo, or fluffiness that lessens stitch definition, but makes them very soft to handle.  This is both a function of the the fineness of the fiber as well as the slipperiness of it in the structure of the yarn.  The ends of individual fibers will work free of the yarn and stick out. With it being so fine, it won’t prickle the handler.  Angora rabbit is the fiber this most commonly happens with, but commercial brushed mohair goat does this also.

Some synthetic yarns are deliberately made to BE fluffy.  The Pettable Beads scarf capitalized on the Bernat Boa yarn that does this.  No stitch definition is possible with this yarn, but it made the contrast with the hard glass beads all the more enjoyable.

What is the best knitting needle to use? Single point straight?  Double pointed?  Circular?  Metal?  Wood?  Plastic?  Carbon fiber?  Bamboo?  The options – and the debate – go on and on.

The fast answer, so far as the type of needle goes, is what is needed for your project.  Single point straights are only usable for socks if you go with the rare flat-and-seamed sock construction pattern, for example.  Some people prefer to use the magic loop method and use a long circular needle for socks.  I personally prefer to use my sets of double pointed needles.

Patterns written in the round generally call for sets of double pointed needles and circular needles in the same sizes to account for the number of stitches needed to be allowed for.  Trying to carry too many stitches on a set of double points practically guarantees that stitches will drop off the needles while you work, causing far more frustration than any reasonably sane knitter wants to deal with.

All the above said, single point straights are still used for a multitude of my projects.  I love my beautifully wood-turned and finished black walnut needles, but I also check the availability of needles at thrift stores and bring home jars full of miscellaneous needles.

Some knitters are fanatically loyal to their choice of knitting needle material and brand.  I tried a set of knitting needles made in a square cross section at last year’s DFW Fiber Fest.  They were beautiful and quite easy to hold, but what kept me from investing (and it would be a major investment at $80 for three sets) was the fact that the construction and material of the needles made the size range start larger than my commonly used sizes.

I also tried a set of carbon fiber in my most commonly used size.  While very easy to use, the major selling point of them was the fact that they are all but impossible to break.  I’m not that hard on my needles, so this was not such a consideration that I would be willing to part with over $20 for a single set.

My go-to type and material is double-pointed or circular in wood or bamboo.  In earlier posts, I have gone over my most recent acquisitions in detail.  The 60 inch circular needles with bamboo tips are turning out to be an excellent investment and are making working on the never-ending Grand Circle Coat a breeze.

One point to remember is that metal needles – either steel or aluminum – tend to be somewhat slippery.  This can cause the knitter some difficulty and actually can be a part of developing repetitive motion injury of the hands and wrists.  If you use these materials, keep in mind that taking a bit more frequent rest breaks from knitting and doing hand exercises to avoid kinks can really pay off in not needing medical intervention.