When Paul and I extended this house it was mostly to accommodate me. I got a studio and wardrobe space, we both got a main bedroom that wasn’t effectively a corridor to the garage, and Paul got one half of the laundry to be his dark room. The Garage Project has been all about Paul having space for his interests and possible future career. The new garage is for his cars, collections and tools and the old one will become a photography studio. Considering that he left IT back when the renovations were happening, it’s taken five or more years for us to adapt to his lifestyle change.

The other reason it is apt is because, well, it’s May. Paul had thought we’d have it all done in February. I was more pessimistic, predicting March. We were both wrong. Some of the delays were due to being stuffed around (the first concreter), some to things outside anyone’s control (weather, building permission), and some to us not anticipating problems (the roof height).

But we finally have a garage:

And it doesn’t block the view (if you don’t count the neighbour’s roofs as ‘view’). I felt totally vindicated when this happened:

Whoever said a view is for visitors because you see it so often you stop appreciating it was wrong. I appreciate my view every time I look out of my studio window. I love watching the light change, the weather and the birds.

Now Paul just has to get the garage door installed, put flooring in the mezzanine and a stair/ladder, get the wiring and lighting done, have the drainage finished, move everything out of the old garage (and a few towers of boxes in the house) in, clean the old garage floor and windows, paint the floor, install blinds and cupboards, perhaps install a sink, and move all the photography stuff in.

Oh well. Good thing we’re not in a hurry.

At first I was all “WFT? That’s not the angle the garage roof is supposed to be!” We’d started out with this garage project wanting the roof line to be the same angle as the house, which is around 15 degrees. At some point that changed to 22 degrees – something Paul may have decided so that more of the mezzanine level was high enough to stand up under. The front elevation on the documents the company gave us made the garage roof look like the house’s, but it turns out it isn’t in proportion.

At first I was unhappy, but figured that at least Paul had his head room. But as more of the garage went up and more of the view disappeared, this feeling deep down that something wasn’t right kept growing. Finally, as I wrote the first version of this blog post, I realised what it was.

We were devaluing our house by removing a good sales point (the view) and replacing it with something that detracted (a garage roof that looked odd because it didn’t match the house).

The roof didn’t have to be much lower at the left for the view of the horizon to remain unbroken. Could it be changed? Paul was reluctant to ask, not wanting us to come off as crazy people who don’t know what we want and change our minds. I was embarrassed, but I always figure it’s worth asking if something can be done. So we went out, apologetically explained the problem and asked if the roof could be changed.

The answer was yes, but it would be a lot of work. How much? Well, it turned out not as much work or money as we feared. Certainly not so much as I reckon we’d lose by blocking the view. How much head room would Paul lose? A little, but not too much when you consider it’s going to be a storage area. So we discussed how it could be done with as little trouble and came up with a rough plan. The garage installers are going to do some calculations and come back with a quote.

Afterwards we were both relieved and glad we’d made ourselves ask, and agreed that it was worth fixing.

Well, I had a great natter with Christine about the MKAV and worked out which local club to contact. I got to have a look at the cormo and say thanks to Kylie as well. But the HW&SG didn’t have much more than a table with finished objects and handspun yarn to buy on it. However, I found out that they were having their textile bazaar the next week.

I bumped into a friend, Emma, and wound up having lunch with some of the Richmond knitters group. Which was lovely but made me miss hand knitting sooo much.

I did manage to buy a couple of things:

But I figured I’d save the main damage to the bank account for the next week, when I headed over to the Handweavers and Spinners Guild Textile Bazaar. I managed to avoid the temptations of the Great Cone Yarn Mountain Range and got a second hand inkle loom for $5, which would hardly cover the cost of the wood. Then, as I was about to leave, I spotted a new, teeny weeny inkle loom. For $15. I knew if I didn’t buy it I would kick myself later.

I also picked up a couple of rag shuttles. You can never have too many shuttles. And some ratchet and pawls that will come in handy if I make or adapt a loom.

And I finally got around to joining the Guild. Paul was waiting in the car, so I didn’t hang about too long. I wish I’d had a bit more time to chat, as I met more weavers in my short visit than I have before in previous ones. When asking if they had any paddle heddles, I explained by showed them my little afro comb loom, and it drew a bit of interest. No paddle heddles there, though.

Oh, and to the woman who said ‘oh, I read your…’ if you meant this blog… um… ‘hi’. You looked busy so I didn’t ask if you were a regular reader. In fact, a few faces seemed familiar but I couldn’t quite work out why. I probably would have, if I’d had more time.

Afterwards we scooted off to the Made in Thornbury market where two friends, Margaret and Beky had stalls, and when we set off home the day had turned drizzly and grey.

Instead of selecting a project based on using up stash, I asked myself what I’ve been wanting to try and the answer was “twill using one colour”. Could I do that with yarn in my stash? This camel yarn left over from a vest sprang to mind. I’d overdyed it with this fabulous blue, and it had a shine to it that would help make the texture show up. There wasn’t much of it, so the only choice was a scarf. That just meant one less decision to make.

However, I stuck to my former plan of weaving some houndstooth fabric on the rigid heddle, from some yarn I bought in Canada:

The plan is to felt it a little, then sew it into a bag. I took this with me to a friend’s house last Saturday, and her daughter kept coming over to watch me weave. So I asked if she’d like to try a simple form of weaving, and we gathered together some yarn and straws. I got to try out a little modification to the method and see if a child her age had the attention span and dexterity for it. She scored a big tick for both, and enjoyed it enough to keep going when I had to stop weaving because my hand was starting to hurt.

My hand is a lot better now, though I don’t have full flexibility back in the wrist. The ice dipping seemed to do it a lot of good. I didn’t do it for ten days as recommended. After three days I felt as though I’d got all the benefit I was going to get, and interruptions every ten minutes just isn’t compatible with writing. If the RSI flares up again I’ll definitely do the ice dipping again, but I’ll keep a bucket of ice water next to my desk for easy access.

The Handknitter’s Guild is holding their annual fair tomorrow. Brunswick Town Hall 10am to 3pm. I’m thinking of going and hovering around the machine knitters’ table. I should get some oil for the Passap, and if the Handweavers and Spinners Guild have an inkle loom for sale it might just come home with me.

Then that female unpleasantness happened and some time during my week on progesterone every muscle/tendon/joint problem I’ve ever had flared. Neck, shoulders, small of back, hips, knees, wrists and ankles. Most of it went away once I was off progesterone again. All but the RSI in my wrists. I kept doing my stretches, started wearing a brace at night again, applied Voltaren and Neurofen, stopped my hour long evening ‘fix’ of knitting and pared back on writing time. But it kept getting worse. Eventually I had to stop the stretches and start wearing the brace during the day, and started having a serious case of WTF!!!

Trying to work out why is a big guessing game. Have I been doing anything to aggravate it? Maybe. Avoiding one things means I do another. Weaving always seemed a safe alternative to knitting, because it doesn’t involve much in the way of fiddly finger movements. When I’m not writing I tend to get stuck on the internet, but that usually makes my back hurt more, not my wrists. Not this time. And this time it’s flexing my wrist that’s bothering me the most, rather than finger movements.

I’m trying something different this week. In the Carpel Tunnel group on Ravelry there’s a physical therapist who recommends ‘ice dipping’. You dip your hand and forearm in a sink or bucket of ice water for five seconds several times over a couple of hours, once a day for ten days. Sounds unpleasant? Well, five seconds is easily bearable and it is rather soothing. Whether it makes a difference in the long run remains to be seen.

And I decided that was just plain silly. Since getting RSI I’ve started to see my time as the greater commodity. Why spend it on anything less than a yarn I love and a finished object I want? The only reason I can think of is to try a method I haven’t tried before, but it doesn’t need to be while making something I don’t like or need.

But I let myself take one yarn back out of the bag. It eases that nagging feeling I’ll regret the cull.

And, of course, I bought some more yarn, too.

Stick Weaving

I first saw this method in 2005, at a traditional crafts display on one of the Orkney Islands. The example I saw used twigs with holes carved in one end for the warp yarn to be tied to. There are lots of tutorials on the internet of a similar method using straws, suggested as an easy way to teach children. A bit of fiddling later and I had a hybrid method going. I’ve had another idea to simplify it further. I’m hoping to have some straws and yarn on hand so people could give this a try, but I’ll test it out on friends kids first to get an idea of what age group it suits best.

Card Weaving

This involves threading yarn through four holes at the corners of square cards, then turning the cards one way or the other to twist the yarns around each other and the weft yarn. The far ends of the yarn are secured to something, and the near ones tied to a belt around your waist. Imagine several barber poles lying next to each other, the stripes lined up so you get diamond or chevron patterns, then binding all together with string threaded through holes along the sides of the poles. The effect is rather similar to friendship bracelets. I found this method rather tedious and prone to tangling, so I won’t be in a hurry to do it again.

Inkle Weaving
‘Inkle’ is another kind of woven tape. I’ve been thinking of buying or making an inkle loom for a while and the demonstration was a good incentive to look into it. While searching for instructions I came upon some other looms used for making inkle tape: tape looms and knee paddle heddles. The paddle heddles gave me an idea. Ages ago, when I was trying to thing of a way to make a mini loom I could take on a plane, I was a bit stumped on how to make a heddle for it. It occurred to me that ‘afro’ style combs look an awful lot like heddles. I bought one and got Paul to drill holes halfway down the tines, but I never got around to making the loom. (The tensioning was the bit I couldn’t find a good solution for.)

Afro combs look spookily similar to paddle heddles. So I dug out my DIY heddle, stuck a piece of tape across the top of the tines, cut some yarn and threaded it. Like with the card weaving, one end the yarn needed to be secured to something and the other to me – I pinned it to my waistband – then it was just a matter of lifting or dropping the heddle to make the shed and weaving the weft yarn back and forth. The effect is a warp-faced fabric – basically the yarn woven back and forth is pulled tight enough that the long lengths of yarn crowd together and hide it.

This was so much easier than card weaving – beautiful in its simplicity and quite addictive. It’ll be a good way to use up longer lengths of loom waste (yarn that is left on the loom after a project is cut off). And if I substitute another clip for the safety pin, I can probably take it on a plane.

Other plans…
I still want to make an inkle loom, for the sake of adding knowledge of how to use one to my repertoire and because it’ll enable me to make wider tape. As for the rigid heddle and table looms, I’m thinking of setting up a basic scarf on the former and letting people try out weaving – perhaps offering up the result as a prize or charity auction item at the end of the con, and do something more complicated on the latter to demonstrate the potential of looms with more shafts.

I’ve been playing catch-up, and one of the things I hadn’t been able to do was deliver a gift to friends who are new first-time parents:

Weave structure: log cabin in double weave on 4 shafts, 2 ends per reed slot
Yarn: Bendigo Woollen Mills 8ply cotton

Using double weave to weave a metre wide piece was an easy solution to the loom being a little too small for a baby blanket. I’ll definitely do that again.

I didn’t quite get the log cabin pattern to work over the centre fold. What I should have done was warp for an even number of squares across the blanket rather than try to make the central one go around the fold.

But I like the way the two narrow central stripes breaks the regularity of the log cabin grid, and in fact I think it improves the design. Because it’s still log cabin, it looks like it was meant to be that way. I might do this deliberately next time!

I finished it with a quick cold wash, laid it flat until it was mostly dry, then fluffed it up in the dryer. It came out soft and cushy. I hope Alistair enjoys his cuddly new blanket.

And now the loom is empty, and I can’t decide what to make next.

Top down, short row heel and toes. Finished over a few nights by kitchinering the top edge of the toe to the foot and hand knitting the cuff. The yarn is Regia Royal Colour and black Patonyle.

I recently finished the knitwear alterations I’d started pre-RSI and when I was done with these socks I missed my little half hour handknitting fix each evening. So I intended to whip up another pair of socks for myself the next weekend so I had cuffs to knit this week.

Except by the time I got to the weekend I’d had a very heavy period for thirteen days and was too exhausted to concentrate. After botching one sock I frogged it and despaired. Then the next day it occurred to me that I could just churn out tubes now and add toes, heels and cuffs later. So I started on the sock yarn leftovers I’d matched up last year:

The knitting machine colour changer is fantastic, and makes knitting stripes so easy. Seeing how the colour combine and watching the rows grow is dangerously addictive. I may be in danger of building up my arm and shoulder muscles.

It has me wondering how well scrappy socks would go on the machine. I couldn’t do small stripes, as stopping to thread new yarn would get tedius. But if I did bigger stripes it might be a fun way to use up smaller amounts of leftovers.