Free Knitting Patterns, Instructions, Projects & Designs.

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad…

I started feeling kind of bad the other day when trying to finish up my Tangled Yoke Cardigan. I got stuck at the point of knitting the buttonband.

I don’t know about you, but when I find a pattern I like in a magazine, I tear it out and put it in an overflowing, stuffed-to-the-gills binder full of similar aspirations. Then I toss the rest of the magazine away.

I got to where the pattern called for making the buttonband, using the Glossary to make the button holes. Uh-oh. The Glossary had long ago been pitched along with the rest of that issue. Normal knitters don’t feel panicked at the idea of figuring out how to make button holes from any of a slew of reference books sitting right on their shelf. Or they could even ask for help. I know this.

Me, I panicked. I wanted to know exactly what that missing Glossary would have instructed me to do. Evidence to the contrary, I seem to think that the path to eternal bliss is to do Everything Just Right. So I had to make THE buttonholes as called for in the elusive Glossary.

Interweave Knits to the rescue! Did you know they offer CD’s containing their magazines? I happened to have the 2007 volume on hand. The Tangled Yoke Cardigan appeared in the Winter issue that year, so I was able to print the missing glossary page. Ahhh. The buttonholes are all done – just the way the instructions call for. Which makes me very happy, and qualifies the CD as one of my Favorite Things.

I’m still on Ohio time, apparently. My body (mind?) can’t seem to figure out its back in California. So here I am, wide awake and making coffee at 3:30 in the morning. The upside is that it’s raining and oh-so-peaceful. Perfect time for a fire and some uninterrupted knitting.

I’m on the home stretch on my Tangled Yoke Cardigan, one of my all-time favorite projects. I’ve picked up the stitches along the neckband base and marked where I altered the pattern a smidge to put a couple of decreases in that will (I hope) encourage the neckband to lie a little flatter. (You pick up the best warnings about these things on Ravelry!).

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Yesteday, I read Jared Flood’s post on his BrooklynTweed blog in which he talks about how long-duration projects remind us of where we’ve been as we’ve knitted them. He says each project has its story. My Tangled Yoke Cardigan’s story is interwoven with my mother, as so much has been this past year….

I started this sweater in North Carolina, the start of September ’08. My husband and I took my mom to the Biltmore for her 80th birthday. It was one of those “whims” otherwise known as intuitive thoughts. Or nudges from a higher power.

My mother’s an amazing, very accomplished woman, fit and smart and lively. It was a challenge to keep up with her as we hiked miles through the woods – and keep in mind this was in the Olden Days when my husband and I were runners. Little did we know that 11 months later would find Mom unable to even stand or speak.

The North Carolina trip was filled with the awe-inspiring interiors of the Biltmore House, long walks through Olmstead-crafted gardens, the tastiest birthday cake we can remember, laughter, story-telling, and horses. I’m so grateful for the time we had together before the stroke stopped Mom in her tracks.

Happily unaware of what was coming, and a fine argument against omniscience, I think I finished half the body and one sleeve of my sweater during that trip. Flash forward a year plus some, as I finally get around to the Tangled Yoke neckband, I’m glad Mom’s back in her home after months of rehab from her stroke. I’m glad I was there to intercede when she was given the wrong medicines. (Dope up my mother??? No way!) I’m glad I have the great good fortune to be able to make sure she has good care. I’m glad she has fabulous friends who come to see her all the time, braving the frustration of one-way conversations. A step at a time, Mom can navigate her hallway if not the wooded trails. Her spirit is phenomenal. A gift to her daughter.

Run, Mama, run.

Toward the end of November I found myself  home in California (finally!) long enough to take two classes from Jared Flood, also known in the knitting community as Brooklyn Tweed. Besides Thanksgiving, Jared was one of the reasons I came back from Ohio at all. (Don’t tell him that – he’ll think I’m stalking him or something.) Jared was hosted by the fabulous Santa Barbara yarn and tea shop called Loop & Leaf.

The first class I took included  colorwork instruction using the Beaumont Tam/Beanie as the project. This is a lovely stranded pattern from Jared’s book Made in Brooklyn. Using Classic Elite’s Fresco, it has a slightly fuzzy look thanks to the yarn’s bit-of-angora mix. All I can say is that I feel like “AudKnits, Home of the Wonky Stitches” every time I knit stranded patterns. Including my own. I have to have faith that blocking will work its usual magic on my tam. Despite this photo’s depiction, the hat pattern is gorgeous – you can check it out in the book or among the projects on Ravelry.

The second class was based on Jared’s pattern Girasole. Described as “A traditional lace shawl”, the pattern is stunning and can be made up as a blanket, rather than a shawl, by using worsted yarn. I’m trying it in Cascade Pastaza. Jared explained that the llama content in Pastaza will make this a heavy blanket. (Sounds just right for Ohio winters.)  I’m making it in a rust color I never would have chosen except for a certain friend who (correctly) chastised me for being so predictable in always going for greens and blues. So there.

The coolest technique I learned in the Girasole class was the circular center cast on for Girasole. That and the various ways to put a lifeline into the work.

This thing is going to be huge when it grows up! It looks square now just because it hasn’t graduated to circular needles yet. Do you think I should aim for the next World Series as a completion date? Knitting blankets while my husband watches baseball seems to be a tradition now.

As it cools off here in Cleveland, I want to make sure my Mom has something warm on her hands when we take her outside. I had a blast making these mittens for her. The color looks great with her bright blue eyes.

I often wear my hair in a braid down my back. By using the braided cable in the mittens, I’m hoping she’ll be reminded of  how much I love her when she wears them.

Because of Mom’s stroke, one hand has problems with swelling. We couldn’t get commercially-made mittens to fit over that hand. I’m grateful I can knit, so I could make the mitten for that hand wider. A nice custom fit!

In the process of making these, I found another handy use for lifelines. I’ve used them in lace projects, but it only now dawns on me that they’re a good way to mark the beginning of shaping for mittens’ tops and socks’ toes.  I put the lifeline in when I thought the mitten was long enough, then proceeded with shaping the top. The mitten was still too short. I measured the deficiency so I’d know how much extra knitting would be needed. Fixing the problem was a simple matter of ripping back to the lifeline, knitting the extra length that I had already measured, then shaping  the top again. Perfect!

I used Rowan’s Lima yarn. It’s mostly baby alpaca, with some merino wool and nylon mixed in. I liked the yarn’s woven construction.

One of these days I’d like to make a simple turtleneck from this yarn. It’ll help me make that mental shift from California to (brrr) Ohio!

My husband and I got away for a weekend to a place I’ve wanted to see since I was a child. Which made it a loooonggg time coming.

Mackinac Island is 3.8 miles of of heaven in Lake Huron between Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas. It doesn’t allow cars, which makes it my kind of place. Conveyance is by foot, bicycle, or horse-drawn carriage. Percherons with hooves as large as platters haul supplies, baggage and people all over the island. The horses were kind of tuckered out by the end of the season, and most get shipped off the island to rest over the winter.

Showing off his considerable travel planning skills, my husband booked us into the Grand Hotel. It lives up to its name! The architecture, service and decor are beyond compare. One of its claims to fame is that major portions of the movie Somewhere in Time were filmed there. We rented it before we left. Even though it was very sappy, and I kept saying “I won’t cry, I won’t I won’t I won’t” I did anyway at the end.

We stayed in a gorgeous room overlooking the lake. One afternoon we watched a storm brew up, then send sideways sheets of water past our window. As wimpy Californians, we are profoundly impressed by such dramatic acts of nature.

When I wasn’t ogling weather or horses, I did get a bit of knitting in. I’m working on a pair of socks for my friend Madeline. The Grand’s front porch is the largest in the world. It takes a lot of rocking chairs to fill up 600+ feet of veranda. I took the sock there for a visit.

I felt a little silly photographing the sock in the hotel’s fabulous Parlor, with its lush design and sophisticated mural. But I sacrificed my dignity in order not to lose sight of AudKnits being a knitting, not a travel, blog. But still, if you get the chance to visits Mackinac Island, by all means go. Oh yeah, don’t forget your knitting.

I’m just full of exciting pattern news today!

First, the pattern for the Santa Fe Mitts is complete. You might remember that I originally came up with the idea from an ill-fated trip to Santa Fe. They were meant for my husband to wear when photographing in the cool New Mexico mornings. Instead he decided to break his elbow. Is that akin to the curse of the boyfriend sweater?

Here’s a re-creation of what might have been, had the photography workshop not gotten derailed:

The design is sized for a Mens’ Medium and Large. The hand is fair isle, and the pattern is charted in full color. The mitts feature a ribbed thumb. At the top, the stitch count decreases from the hand area so the ribbing stays snug around the fingers and the mitt doesn’t droop. And still speaking of ribbing, the cuff is meant to be long, so wrists stay warm even when bending.

Reflecting Southwest colors, I chose Lorna’s Laces Sock yarn for the oranges, blues and green. I wanted a rock and bark feel for the background, and elected to use some heather colors in Regia 4-Ply Wool. The sock yarn makes the mitts washable, a good idea for guys. My hubby does a wonderful job when he does the laundry; asking him to hand-wash delicate knits would be pushing it, though.

Here he is, recovering from a long day shooting pictures:

And showing he’s a tree hugger at heart:

The motifs I use in the design reflect, I hope, a Native American heritage, with hints of local mountains, water, and trees.

The design calls for small quanities of some colors. I’m going to make socks out of the unused portions of the skeins and balls. I’m thinking of using the Regia as a main color, since it wears so well on the foot, and then making a cool design for the leg out of the beautiful Lorna’s Laces.

In other news, I’m excited to have my Smock Top Sweater design included in the new issue of Knotions, the online magazine. There are more pictures of it along with the pattern itself on Knotions, but I wanted to post one I’m particularly fond of. I shot this very early one morning, and loved the way dawn’s light made the flower arrangement glow. It reminded me of old Dutch Masters still lifes – sort of a moody quality, but with colors that pop.

Thank you, Jody, for providing me with the opportunity to have my pattern published in your online magazine!

I’ve had fun raiding my sock yarn stash for the Santa Fe Mitts I’m designing. I settled on Lorna’s Laces for the oranges, blues and greens. The deep reddish color is named “Manzanita” – the arid climate plant with the lovely red stems. Perfect!

Regia 4-Ply provides the heathered background colors. I’m going for the look of rocks and tree bark.

After a few more adjustments, and my tech editor finding all the mistakes that I’m sure aren’t there when I read the pattern, and the Santa Fe Mitts pattern will be ready. It’ll be sized for men, in mens’ medium and large.

Last year my husband and I were enrolled in a week-long photo workshop put on by National Geographic. It was held in Santa Fe – we’d never been there before.  Some of the photography sessions started early in the morning.

Naturally, I wanted to accessorize my hubby. I latched onto  fingerless mitts as a way to keep his hands warm but dexterous in the cool mountain air. I looked at photos of the area, and grabbed some items from around our house that fit the area’s color palette. Then I got swatching. Here’s my inspiration board:

I like the earthy orange in the pot, but opted to replace its grayish/teal with the more vibrant blue in the picture frame. A splash of green made a good accent against the oranges, and represents the foliage found in the riparian parts of the region.

Sadly, my husband broke his elbow – spectacularly, poor guy – just before we were to go. So I put aside the project until now. I think it’ll be a great pattern for Fall, even if it is a year and a lot of miles away from Santa Fe!

I like the colors together and have finished a preliminary chart for the fair isle pattern. I love this stage of designing!

I had a blast making Hannah Fettig’s Bird’s Nest Pincushion to celebrate my friend Adrienne’s birthday.

Though the pattern calls for DK weight yarn, I wanted the nest to have a fairly solid structure to it. Also, I wanted the eggs to have a tight fabric to keep the fiberfill from showing. I chose worsted weight yarns, and knit them on the needle size from the pattern.

Both yarns are souveniers of the Great Portland Yarn Crawl a couple of weeks ago. Kilcarra of Donegal Aran Tweed came from Dublin Bay and lends a twiggy look to the nest. Some luscious Shi Bui Merino Alpaca from Knit Purl  has just the right blue shades for eggs. (Expect to see the Shi Bui again in some future design – I fell in love it!)

The nest is knitted in a delightful cable pattern. Once it was complete, I looked around for a way to block it so it would have a flat bottom when done. Voila! A juice glass was just the ticket to make it the right size around. I added a cereal bowl …

 And Ta-Da! The nest has a nice flat bottom (which I wish I could relate to) and sits flat, rather than rocking around.

I hope Adrienne likes her nest. She’s a fantastic seamstress, so it should be useful as a pincushion as she sews. If not,  she can always decorate a tree with it!

  If you want to check out Hannah’s book “Closely Knit”, you can find it here.

Abraham Lincoln once wrote, “I’m sorry I wrote such a long letter. I did not have the time to write a short one.” The book review that follows is long, but I couldn’t seem to pare it down any further without skipping some of  the book’s great qualities.

Ethnic Knitting Exploration: Lithuania, Iceland, and Ireland

I love sweaters that incorporate ethnic designs, so I was pleased to read “Ethnic Knitting Exploration: Lithuania, Iceland, and Ireland”. The author, Donna Druchunas, walks you through all the steps and techniques required to design sweaters, and some smaller practice projects, with an ethnic flair. She clearly explains how to use color and texture stitch patterns from Lithuania, Iceland and Ireland in your designs.

Right from the introduction, I liked Druchunas’s approach. In a concise yet friendly manner she explains why she uses certain sweater styles, rather than others. This means you’ll end up with a sweater that is flattering rather than too boxy.

She goes on to cover some knitting basics: how to determine your sweater’s size, and how to knit in the round, including the two circular needles and the magic loop methods. This chapter makes a good primer for the beginning knitter and a nice reference for those with more experience. I’ve knitted sweaters before using short rows to shape the shoulders. But I learned something new in her description of short-row shaping for a sweater back. That said, I wished for more information on how to know whether to use this technique prior to starting the design process. Druchunas says that some body types like this adjustment, but I’d like to know what types those are.

I love the book’s format. The chapters on Lithuania, Iceland and Ireland include interesting facts about the origins of knitting in each region. Druchunas presents a variety stitch patterns from each – color ones from Lithuania and Iceland, and textures and cables for the Irish Aran tradition. Then there is a practice project and sweater project. Every project includes wonderful step-by-step instructions. You fill in the blanks on the worksheets and end up with your own design, customized for the fit and stitch patterns you’ve chosen.

I wanted to test out the book’s methodology. I chose the Fingerless Gloves project from the chapter on Lithuania. From making a gauge swatch to adjusting the stitch pattern to knitting the gloves, I found it very easy to make my own customized gloves. All I had to do was fill in the blanks on the worksheets. Each worksheet lays the foundation to make an entire pattern – painlessly.

The project was so logically presented, my confidence is boosted for making a sweater next. The only hard part will be choosing from among all the lovely stitch patterns!

If you’re interested in buying “Ethnic Knitting Exploration: Lithuania, Iceland, and Ireland”, you can find it here on Amazon. Donna Druchunas’s  web site, Sheep To Shawl, describes the other books she’s written.