Swatches rule

Project swatches, planning swatches and swatches "just because"

Swatch for Pine Tree, Version I with labeled tag

I love swatches, but I confess: I didn't always. There were years I resented the command, considering it time that could be better spent working the pattern. 

No more. Now I'm an inveterate swatcher -- and not just for gauge. It's essential to my designs.

Knit swatch attached to directions

For knitting, I am a huge Barbara Walker fan and her Treasury series of pattern books, a four book compendium crammed full of ideas and possibilities. Although a photo accompanies each pattern, the knit swatch often doesn't live up to the photo. Trust me on this one.

Periodically, I go through the pattern books and mark the ones that look interesting. I copy the directions and paste each to a 4x6" index card. Then, when I'm too tired to do much else, I'm traveling or I'm  between projects, I work my way through my patterns of interest. 

I like to knit 4 to 6 inch square swatches and label each with the name of the pattern, the book and page number on small white tags. After soaking and blocking them, I attach the cards and they become part of my ever growing library of possibilities. 

And, yes, I have other libraries, including braids, woven swatches, and dyed yarn. They not only are sources of inspiration and points of departure for projects, but if I've documented the work, I'll have laid the groundwork for what works, what doesn't and yardage.

Working without a swatch

Recently, I've had my head down working on my own knit and braid designs and really needed to just make some thing that required little more than following directions.  

As above, and in a prior post, I ranted a bit about the need for swatching and what did I just do? I started a project and didn't make one. To be fair, I didn't because the pattern had no gauge. I'm guessing the gauge is based on the standard gauge on the yarn wrapper. A swatch probably isn't essential for the single-size pattern, but I'd still feel more confident in sizing if I were working to one. 

Note the size variation in the pick yarn

I had seen a darling little mitred-square sweater and thought it would be perfect for our granddaughter. And as a bonus, it fit the bill as a 'don't-think-and-just-knit-it' project. My only concern was that the pattern is a single size. Considering E, I wanted the sweater to be slightly larger. (Yeah, yeah. I know. I've already passed from the no-thinking stage.) 

I added the equivalent of two rows to each square and, based on the measurement of my first square, started knitting. 

The sweater is working up beautifully, but I'm fairly sure that my gauge is slightly larger than the sample. I didn't worry that it would be too big--she's growing fast--only that I would run out of yarn. I didn't, but just barely. I'm using Koigu yarn in three color variations and oddly, the pink variegated color is ever so slightly larger than the other two. It feels that way in the hand and it's consistently knitting a slightly larger square no matter how tight I try to knit it. 

The only thing I'm not crazy about are the edges so I plan to add a finish to all the edges. The pattern suggests a row of single crochet, but I'm thinking about an i-cord edge. 

*Update: I'm putting a double crochet border on the bottom and single crochet on the fronts and neck.

Note to self: Even with a pattern, there is such thing as a 'don't-think-and-just-knit-it' project.

Two ways of thinking

What the right brain creates, the left brain must execute.

The Peacock's Gift.
Model: Lauren Valletutti. Photo: Maurice Marietti

My right brain bubbles with ideas for projects--scarves, jackets, sweaters, shawls--you name it. The thread is a major catalyst and often dictates the design. 

Threads on shelves and threads in my hand all but 'talk' to me--and keep up the 'talk' throughout the project. All that talk becomes notes of where the threads went and how. But even with a pretty well documented page or two of notes and sketches, I find transforming my notes into directions that others can easily follow requires an entirely different way of thinking. 

I need to turn off my right-brain thinking, which is  largely visual and wordless, to tap into the left-brain's strengths of logic, language and math. The transition is rarely seamless. Not for me, anyway.

Waterways cowl/scarf
Model: Lauren Valletutti. Photo: Maurice Marietti

The editor: a powerful ally

But that's why editors are so important and why all good writers value them. They are the people behind the byline, the ones who make writers look their best. 

Many years ago, I took a workshop with Ben Yagoda and one thing he said has stuck with me. He worried, he said, that editors weren't editing his work as aggressively as they did when he was an unknown writer.  

I have always been grateful to an editor's keen eye. As he or she picked apart pronouns and verb tenses, questioned details that seemed clear to me, and found niggling formatting issues that bedevil most written work, they always made me look better. 

I still crave an editor's oversight and the questions and corrections. Finalizing patterns for The Peacock's Gift' (above right) and 'Waterways' cowl (left) that I plan to release at the upcoming Garden State Sheep & Fiber Festival (next weekend!), I was hesitant to publish them, worried about possible errors, so I am especially thankful to Kris, an extraordinary knitter and designer and an editor with a sharp editorial eye. 

I hope I'll see you next weekend at the 21st annual Festival. Do stop by Winter's Past Farm  and say 'Hello!'