Showing posts with label knitting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label knitting. Show all posts

Sunday, 29 September 2013

Handknitted Notebook Cover

I've talked a bit about the new Twitter community I've found, #craftblogclub, which meets on Tuesday evening between 7 and 8pm UK time. Our fabulous founder, Emma Berry, set us all a creative challenge for September - I finished this last week but it's taken me until now to post! Our challenge was to create a notebook cover using whichever craft we liked. As much as a sewn cover might have been quicker, sewing has never been (and I suspect will never be) my forte, so I decided to knit one. I even went so far as to concoct a pattern myself.

This is the first time I've written a pattern, so I hope it makes sense. If you want to adapt it, bear in mind the central chevron pattern is worked in blocks of twelve stitches and sixteen rows, but you can always add more stocking stitch rows for the flaps, or more for the spine, if your notebook is bigger than mine. You'll also need to take yarn into account - I've used 100% acrylic DK as I had some lying around - I didn't have enough so part of the back flap is knitted in a different colour, but a 100g will easily be enough. My notebook measures 21cm by 16cm and is 1cm thick.

Using 4mm needles, cast on 48 stitches using your preferred method.
Row 1 - Knit.
Row 2 - Purl.
Repeat these rows another eighteen times so you have 20 rows of stocking stitch.

Now begin the pattern for the front cover. There is a moss stitch edging so on each right side row, add (k1, p1, k1, p1, k1) to either end of the chevron pattern. On each wrong side row, add (p1, k1, p1, k1, p1).
Row 21 - Moss stitch band, (yfwd, skpo, k10)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 22 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.
Row 23 - Moss stitch band, (K1, yfwd, skpo, k7, k2tog, yfwd)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 24 - Row 22 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.
Row 25 - Moss stitch band, (K2, yfwd, skpo, k5, k2tog, yfwd, k1)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 26 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.
Row 27 - Moss stitch band, (K3, yfwd, skpo, k3, k2tog, yfwd, k2)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 28 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.
Row 29 - Moss stitch band, (K6, yfwd, skpo, k4)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 30 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.
Row 31 - Moss stitch band, (K3, k2tog, yfwd, k3, yfwd, skpo, k2)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 32 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.
Row 33 - Moss stitch band, (K4, k2tog, yfwd, k1, yfwd, skpo, k3)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 34 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.
Row 35 - Moss stitch band, (K2, k2tog, yfwd, k5, yfwd, skpo, k1)x3, moss stitch band.
Row 36 - Moss stitch band, p36, moss stitch band.

Repeat this block three times - the pattern block should be 48 rows. That finishes the pattern for the main cover. Knit ten rows of stocking stitch, continuing the moss stitch pattern at either edge.

Repeat the above pattern block of 48 rows, continuing the moss stitch edge, for the back cover. Knit twenty more rows of stocking stitch for the inside back flap, and cast off. With right sides facing, sew the edge of the flap to the cover at either side for the back, and repeat for the front. Turn the right side out and slip onto your notebook!

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Icy Goes Owl Daft

Anyone who follows me on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook or Google+ will know I make things. In fact, I make a lot of things. I've been knitting since December 2008, crocheting since around January this year, and making jewellery since around April. That's not to mention the twenty years I've been taking photos, fiddling with Fimo soft or fixing broken clothes. Yet I haven't been blogging about it.

I think part of the problem comes from the fact that all of the blogging gurus originally told you to keep one topic to a blog. According to them, your baking buddies wouldn't be interested in your DIY tips, and your fiction writing friends wouldn't care about fishing. That's one reason why I originally put all of my design related stuff on a separate blog. In trying to promote my writing, I didn't think anyone would be interested in anything I'd made. But due to the way a lot of us now tag and categorise our blog posts, there has been a sea change, and I asked my favourite blogging guru, Kristen Lamb, if I should keep my writing and crafting separate. She said no - you never know which of your writer buddies might also love knitting, and how many of your knitting friends might like your writing.

I also got involved with the inaugural #craftblogclub chat on Twitter this evening, organised by Emma Berry, and decided I'd start blogging about my crafty endeavours. After all, they take up a lot of my time, so why wouldn't I talk about them?

I thought I'd blog about my most recent creation, Sidney (the little owl pictured up there). I originally got the parts as a kit from Let's Knit magazine, and all I had to supply was the needles, the stuffing, and the time. I took the yarn to London on the train last week when I went to the Pompeii exhibition at the British Museum, and ended up knitting the whole thing - I finally assembled him on Sunday. I'm rather proud of him!

I love owls. I've got owl ornaments in my room, a satchel I got in Bonn that's covered in them, various necklaces with owl motifs, and now a cuddly one. As much as I love puffins, I think owls are possibly my favourite birds, particularly snowy owls (Hedwig FTW) and barn owls. They often represent wisdom, in part due to their ability to see in all directions, and they're the bird sacred to Athene. The ancient Greeks even featured them on coins to keep a watchful eye on commerce. English folklore hasn't been so kind, with superstitions tying them to death as heralds of an imminent passing, and tales linking owls to death also appear among First Nation tribes in North America. Regardless of their associations, I think they're magnificent birds, and I'm proud I've now made one!

Sunday, 3 June 2012

Jubilee Yarnbombing

I don't normally post about things in my life outside of writing but I thought, in the spirit of the day, I'd break with tradition and talk about both current events AND one of my hobbies! As some of you know, I'm a keen knitter and I really enjoy putting together new projects. Well everything I've ever done pales into insignificance alongside the recent yarnbombings in Saltburn, North Yorkshire!

Yarnbombing is essentially graffiti composed of knitted or crocheted objects, although it doesn't damage its environment and it's easily removed. In Saltburn, the guerilla knitters first struck with a set of Olympic themed figures along the pier, and now they've done the same for the Diamond Jubilee up by the clifftop lift. Aren't they fantastic?!

 
Jubilee chinaware

 
Royal Couple

 
Queen Victoria

 
I think this might be the Queen Mother but I'm not sure!

Monday, 5 July 2010

Give yourself permission to NOT write

I've just spent a very enjoyable evening doing nothing but knitting a sock, and watching the first three episodes of Castle. Now, most evenings, I make myself sit down and do some 'work'. It might be drawing, or working out some more 'punchlines' for my forthcoming comic, or it might be working on the next instalment of my serial, The First Tale. I might even be writing another Friday Flash, or deciding what I'm going to blog about. I might be rewriting my novel, or figuring out what I'm going to say in my next AudioBoo. I don't know about you, but that looks like a fair amount of things to be doing in my 'free' time.

'Not finding the time to write' is a common complaint of writers. Other creatives say they simply cannot find the time to create. "Modern life is so hectic", they say. "I have a full-time job and three kids and an invalid parent to care for," they cry. I can fully sympathise with the full-time job issue. Of the approximate seventeen hours I am aware, I have just four to spend on myself, and everyday errands. That's without a family to take up my time!

There are a myriad of blogs out there that will tell you it's okay to cut down your TV time by 15 minutes, or it's healthy to wake up 15 minutes earlier, or that no one will mind if you skip something else in order to write. You can "give yourself permission" to write. It's a very valid argument, and I agree with it wholeheartedly - there probably is a lot of junk in your day that could be safely jettisoned to make room for your creative pursuits. However, creative people often don't like to do anything creative because it's fun. It doesn't feel like work. It can often feel like an indulgence when there are errands to run or chores to do.

That being said, I'm here to tell you it's also okay to give yourself permission to NOT write. Normally, I've got so many projects on the go and so much that I want to do that I get stressed out if I don't get it all done (which would be impossible anyway, unless I somehow found a way of adding more hours to the day). If I hit a creative block, I panic. The work I want to do becomes work that I need to do and thus it becomes actual work, rather than 'work', if you get what I mean. Once that happens, I don't want to do it any more, and then I become frustrated with myself because I start procrastinating, and stop producing. It doesn't help that all these books and blogs seem to be telling me that I need to be writing almost continuously in order to really be 'a writer'. So now I'm not a real writer because I'm not writing every minute of every hour of every day? Golly, talk about pressure!

Yet it has been a wonderfully relaxing couple of hours after I told myself it was alright not to do any writing (aside from this post) for one single evening. I've made some decent progress on my sock (this is the left one I'm currently working on - eventually it will look like the right sock I've posted a photo of up there) and I've discovered a new TV show that combines my interest in crime dramas with my love of Nathan Fillion and a consideration of the writing process - win! As it happens, various ideas have been ticking over in my brain and now I feel refreshed and rejuvenated - ready to start writing on my way to work tomorrow.

So give it a go. Give yourself permission to have a night off, and see what wonders you can accomplish.

Wednesday, 10 February 2010

Why Spinning Is Like Writing

Some of you may know that I'm a keen knitter. Many a story problem has been resolved after I've mulled it over during a knitting session, letting my unconscious tackle the issue while my conscious mind focuses on lace or cables. I've been knitting for over a year now, and I thoroughly recommend it as a useful pasttime. It's relaxing (until you realise you've misread the pattern and purled where you should have knitted), it's portable, and it produces an end-product. Much like writing, really. Both require minimal materials (two sticks and string allows you to knit, and you just need something to write both with and on to write) and both require a combination of your left and right brain.

Anyway. I had a go at spinning last night. No, not the exercise, but the rather ancient craft of turning raw wool into something approaching yarn. A friend of mine is a member of the Guild of Weavers, Spinners and Hand Dyers and she kindly agreed to do a spinning class for the knitting group I go to. We had a go with hand spindles, as well as a spinning wheel, and the only conclusions I can really draw are that; a) spinning is a lot harder than it looks, and b) it requires the sort of hand-eye co-ordination you'd normally expect from a ninja.

Still, it was fun to try something new, and while I was trying to remember to let the twist in AFTER I'd stretched the roving, I thought about how spinning is actually very akin to writing. (See? This is the blog of a writer. I knew I'd get writing in here somehow) Your initial process of spinning is like writing a first draft. You take raw words/roving, and spin them out into a continual story/yarn. You tease and twist, stretch and spin, trying to craft something you can use. Though even when your roving has run out and your spindle is full, you're not done. Just as spun wool must be plied, washed and snapped before it can be knitted, a story needs to be honed and polished before it's ready for the light of day.

It's this last part that I struggle so much with. Once I've written something, I want people to read it. I want it to be acknowledged, digested and understood. I still can't grasp the notion that a story needs to be put away and allowed to 'mature' before I can re-read it and spot the glaring errors. I think I'm too impatient for my own good...but there's always that little voice in the back of my head going "Well it has to go public sometime!"

How about you? Are there any crafts you do to help with writing? And how long do you leave stories to mature?


(NB: The image I used for this post is actually one of my own - it's a spinning wheel I found on a staircase at Chillingham Castle, Northumberland)