shades of white

Back in September I did a little bit of dying. The indigo dying worked quite well. The lily of the valley dying, not quite so much. There is very little difference between the natural wool and the dyed wool. I wanted to see if the difference would be more noticeable if the threads were woven into fabric. Here is my finished sample:

The warp starts with 4 doubled strands of natural Shetland wool, then Finn dyed with lily of the valley leaves. There are 4 natural Finn threads on each side of the indigo threads. The remainder is dyed Finn and natural Shetland. Beginning at the bottom of the photo, the weft is natural Finn, up to the pointer. It then switches to dyed Finn for the center of the weaving, and back to natural at the upper end.

I had hoped that where the threads were natural white in both directions the fabric would be brighter than where it was mixed dyed and natural, and where it is all dyed, that it would look creamier. In fact, that is the case. It is difficult to see, however, because the white stripe is only 4 threads wide. I should have used at least 8 threads for each stripe. The difference between mixed and all dyed is very subtle and difficult to notice except in bright sunlight.

I still have some dyed thread left. I think I will make another sample with wide white and cream checks. Maybe then there will be a noticeable difference.

experimenting

If you read my blog, you know that I am big on experimenting. I'm reading a book - "Cosmic Numbers" by James D. Stern, and in it he defines a few terms that I find relevant:

Quoting from page 30:
Experiment: The act of conducting a controlled test or investigation.
Experimentation: Varying one parameter and seeing how other parameters change in response.
When you track the apparatus used, the procedures involved and the measurements observed, that's "experimental science."

In his book, Mr. Stern is talking about things like discovering the gravitational constant, but it is exactly the approach I use when trying to learn new things about spinning. Science doesn't have to happen in a laboratory. In fact, for much of history it didn't. It happened in basements and back halls and gentlemen's clubs. It is that history of "gentlemen scientists" (I guess there wasn't much of an outlet for gentlewomen scientists, but I bet they were out there - or too busy running the household to have time for "play") that I find exciting. The idea that science is accessible to everyone. If you are curious about something, just figure out the questions to ask and dive in. It's fun.

In that vein, I've been working on my Ribe mitten recreation. Each test I make, I discover a little bit more about how the original mitten could have been made. I believe the key to its construction lies in the thumb. To that end, I am making a few thumb samples to see which stitching sequence will most closely match the original mitten. I'll post them when I am done.

timed test mitten

I've finished my test mitten. Here is my tally:

It took 3 hours and 25 minutes to stitch from the beginning to the start of the thumb hole. It took another 4 hours and 10 minutes to reach the point where the decreasing rows began. It took 1 hour and 15 minutes to stitch the 6 decreasing rows, and 45 minutes to stitch the thumb. That is a total of 9 hours and 35 minutes for one mitten. Each time I sat down to work, I stitched for at least 20 minutes without interruption, up to 2 hours for my longest stretch.

As I suspected would happen, the finished mitten is smaller than the Ribe mitten. It measures 12.5 cm x 22.5 cm, compared to 14 cm x 26.5 cm. But the shape and proportion seems right. And I think the time is comparable to what it would take to make the original mitten, since the yarn is slightly thicker and the stitches slightly larger. People who look at my test mittens find it unusual that the cuff is so short, but that is how the real mitten is.

So, what is the total effort to make a pair of mittens? 15 hours to get ready, 19 hours and 10 minutes to stitch a pair = 34 hours and 10 minutes. Yes, I would be distressed to lose one.

Goals for 2014

My first goal for 2014 is to complete the reproduction of the Ribe nalbinding mitten. I have been working on this project off and on for more than a year and a half. Part of the delay was because other priorities got in the way. More importantly, I found there was more to discover about a "simple" mitten than I had anticipated. This is the year than I will bring this project to completion.

I spent a great deal of time in 2013 doing research and writing. That isn't a bad thing, but it meant that I had less time for spinning. I feel a void, and I will not neglect my spinning in 2014.

Third, I will weave something with the flax I have spun. I will keep it small (a napkin?) so that I don't get discouraged. If I can motivate myself, I will finish the big cotton piece that is on my larger loom (and has been there, neglected, since spring).

Fourth, I will practice tablet weaving. This was a 2013 goal that I never found time for, beyond taking a class at Pennsic.

Finally, I will knit a pair of socks using my great-grandmother's pattern. I have already counted out the stitches and worked out the pattern, so this should be an easy goal to accomplish.