11 March: It'll be all right when it's pressed

That's what my mother used to say when her dress-making looked a bit rough and ready.  And it works for inkles too.

The light-bulb moment the other day was to make a bag to carry my collection of backstrap stuff in - the bag itself being made of inkles. The inkle strips sewn together looked very lumpy and uneven, but a few minutes with the steam iron resulted in a thick and even fabric.

A quick walk to the shops for a zip and a bit of ribbon  (to cover the raw edges inside), and hours of sewing, and here's the finished item with some of the kit to go in it -

 

And here it is with all that stuff inside. It's 22' long and 10.5" deep. I used inkles I had already made, 4 altogether, which were cut into 11 strips.  The zigzag inkle is just about long enough to go all the way round and make handles, and the zip pull is made with part of the band made the other day on my double hole rigid heddle (the other bit has been made into a bowsling for my recurve bow).

15 August: Treasure trove

Some time ago, I was unable to resist this book in the local Oxfam bookshop.


There is no date of publication in it, though it must be 1920s, judging from the shape of the lass who gets measured -


But really I bought it because you never know when you might need a pattern for combination undergarments or directoire knickers.

10 July: Restful retirement

Still haven't started to knit the Yarn Yard merino - but I have dyed 100 gms of Blue Faced Leicester, spun and finished 50 gms of it, and the second 50 gms is spun and waiting to be plyed.

Then I've also knitted a mitten for a project later in the year; the second one is up to nearly the end of the ribbing and the start of the pattern.

Oh, and I've hand sewn a curtain for the bathroom. From hideously expensive embroidered and beaded silk. Lined with polyester chiffon. All of which was extremely tricky to handle and sew. And when I put it up, thinking it was finished, I spotted a mistake, which meant taking it down and altering one side; that took most of this afternoon.

As well as cleaning, laundry, shopping, cooking, gardening, dabbing a bit of paint and a bit of Pol*filla where walls had got a bit knocked, and of course watching Le Tour.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have a quiet half hour on the exercise machine.

1 May: What about.....?

The slippers are now finished!

The "decoration" is an extremely subtle bit of long-armed cross stitch over the edge of the sides and back - so subtle that you can hardly see it (hence the lack of a photo). In one of those boxes full of the bits and pieces that all habitual makers of things keep, were 2 skeins of coton a broder in almost the exact shade of my felt, but with a slight sheen. It is fairly thick, so I thought it wouldn't take long, but it actually took hours, as I had to place the needle very carefully every time, and it's one of those 2-steps-forward-and-1-back sort of stitches. But it firms up the edge nicely, and gives it some protection.

The soles have been bugging me all along. The felt needed something to protect it from wear and dirt, and on its own would slide beautifully on the kitchen tiles. Lots and lots of boxes got pulled out in the workroom, and the needlework detritus of 40 years of my hoarding (plus an unknown number of years of my mother's hoarding) was subjected to a good rummaging. (I found a heap of stuff I'd forgotten, but don't tell DH.) Some leather scraps rose to the surface; nothing big enough to use, but that set me off in another direction.

I don't often browse the car section of the supermarket, but yesterday I was hunting for "chamois leather". They had real chamois, which I didn't fancy, partly from the veggie angle, and partly from the maintenance angle - it dries out and cracks, as any old-time cyclist will tell you. Then in a wonderfully chaotic and old-fashioned ironmongers, I found an artificial chamois leather, intended for cleaning windows, which has been cut up and sewn to my felt. The world's only window-cleaning slippers?

Note to self - if you ever make felt slippers again, make sure to design the soles first. And last night DH found purpose-made slipper soles on the website of my favourite knitting shop!

But today I have been grappling with a different problem.

The local Guild of Spinners, Weavers and Dyers currently has an exhibition of work at a local museum, and on Saturday there is an Open Day, when some of us will demonstrate various spinning, etc. activities. I am due to demonstrate knitting - don't laugh, I'm doing that myself. In between panicking, that is.

It seems to me that it might be more interesting to the non-knitting public if I have a variety of projects to show, so I have been doing some planning. There's a lacy scarf about half finished in purple merino. I can easily cast on a Fair Isle hat with some white and pink Wensleydale wool from the stash (Wensleydale comes in wool as well as cheese), and perhaps I could start off a pair of socks with the yellow soy/Blue Faced Leicester from last week.

This yarn is much finer than I've used before for socks. So for a start I need to calculate what size needles to use and how many stitches to cast on. Then I've read just recently about a way of making toes with short rows, so I want to try that - the heels can be done with the same method. I've scribbled about 6 lines of notes in my little notebook, for a pattern. I've spent all afternoon fiddling about with trying different needles and different ways of starting and doing the toes. At the moment I have the start of a sock, but that may not last.

But it's great fun to experiment, and ask *Is there another way to do that* or *What happens if....* or *What about trying....*

28 April: And the felt slippers -

Just in case you thought the felt slippers were a figment of my imagination, here's the story so far.

The 2 pieces of felt were made, with much exertion and sweating - sorry, glowing. The sole pattern was made by the simple method of putting my foot on a sheet of paper and drawing round it; the uppers were drawn by the *place paper over foot, hold down, draw round* method.


It took a while to summon the nerve to cut into the felt. After all, it's quite thick and solid enough to make a yurt out of, and it took me 2 days to make and another day to dye.


Then the only thing left to do was stitch it together. They are just a little bit gently lop-sided, but then probably my feet are too.


And here are said feet in their new slippers. They are warm and soft, but need something on the soles to prevent Orville and Bean impressions on the tiled floors. And they need some sort of decoration. I had planned to do that before sewing them together, but I didn't want to waste effort if they didn't work out OK. I think they are working out OK.


While I was pausing in mid-slipper production, I spun up some yarn from a mixture of Blue Faced Leicester and soy fibre.


The soy is very silk-like, and the yarn is soft. The dyeing process has very slightly felted the BFL, but that will perhaps forestall any felting when it is worn and washed. Dyed in yellow, mustard and brown, it will make an interesting pair of socks.