One hour today got me all pieces traced onto the red fabric, 3 pieces cut. Half an hour extra and I’d cut the remaining pieces. I didn’t trace or cut the fake sleeves yet. They’ll be contrast fabric, and surely not first in the order of construction? (Actually, it’s pockets first, then shoulders; neckband; sides: good.)

How I love tailor’s chalk! Once in a while, having the right tools helps so much. I thought it mightn’t mark the furry side of the fabric so well, but it did, easily.

Distractions today? Not so much. Unless you count a monologue about what it’s like to work in a library (from a 5 year old point of view) as a distraction. I don’t.  Having kids around when I sew is half the point: so they see where clothes come from, how they’re made. And so they see that the skills they are learning at school (like neat cutting) actually are useful, right through life …

Sewing’s tomorrow. That will be … interesting. I haven’t used a twin needle before & I’m not sure how this (cheap, crappy) machine will handle fleece. We’ll see.

Meg from elsie marley sent out a challenge: work for one hour each day for a week, sewing children’s clothes for the coming season. See how far you get.

Well, there’s my one hour, above. Two sleeves traced, one back. Some reading the instructions.

I wanted to be honest. And to find out how long sewing really takes me. How can I improve, estimate for the future, try to fit more sewing in my life if I don’t know how long things take? (That’s roughly what my software programming lecturer says, anyway. But not about sewing).

Maybe I’d be quicker if:

• I wasn’t trying to be so environmentally friendly & use up all the little scraps of pattern paper;

• I had a bigger kitchen table … or perhaps a more professional set up?

• I wasn’t distracted by emails about a University group assignment, asking if my part’s done (yes, done & sent). I’ll blame my cutting the hem fold line (stuck back together) on that distraction. And tracing the wrong size pocket (easily scribbled out) and forgetting to trace a neckline on related distractions, too. I didn’t count them in my time.

• I’d've known the sleeve on view B is really a different shape to sleeves A and C. I ended up having to trace them all, because I want a fake long sleeve, rather than an argument about which top to wear underneath.

It actually took me 2.5 hours to get the whole dress traced. Which doesn’t seem quick. But it is honest and it will help me estimate better and sew more kids clothes in the future.

Wonder how much I’ll get done tomorrow?

I’ve realised I rarely show work in progress here: each project seems to be featured only once, either at the beginning or the end.

Well, I’m still working on this, and still enjoying it.  I think it’d be a great pattern for a beginner, it’s only knit/plain/garter and decreases. But I think a beginner would need a friend to talk them through it, I agree it’s more like a recipe, it does require some  knowledge of knitting. And I read the decreases wrong, and had to go back: should’ve trusted that nagging feeling it wasn’t right.

I’m trying to finish both hats together, a bit like a chef tries to plate everything up at the same time. That way the kids won’t argue about who’s first, who’s second …. I hope!

I’ve seen this before on commercial knits, but never really thought about it. What’s the purpose? Eliminating bulk? Just a style thing?

Then I started thinking about hand knits: is there any technical reason why you can’t rotate the shoulder seam on a hand knit? I had a look through quite a few of pages on Ravelry (social site for hand knitters, with a huge user-created database of patterns). I couldn’t see any examples of this type of shoulder, although they may exist. I wonder why it’s not common?

This is the raw just-as-I-drew-it version, not a tidied up “design”. I think it’s nice for kids to see a little quirkiness from time to time.  And yes, I encourage my ones to draw from their own imaginations, not always do colouring in. But it can be fun once in a while, no?

* For the enjoyment of children in your family and their friends in your care ONLY. Not for sale or modification. All rights reserved

I’ve been starting to think about writing down the knitting patterns buzzing ’round my head. I did once before.

This means, for the first time ever, I’ve bought wool just for swatching. I feel irrational guilt about it. You see, after swatching, some wool turned out too thick, or the slubs didn’t look right, or the whole idea won’t work, at least not now, not easily, not ’till I think about it some more.

I’m not a big stasher, I’ve 2.5 average-sized plastic boxes full of wool. (Ok, technically I should say “yarn”, but most of it’s actually wool). That’s my everything, all my half begun; abandoned; dreamt about but still untouched knit projects as an adult. I pretty much always have a plan for the wool I buy, even if that plan changes like, 5 or 6 times!

So I’ve been feeling really guilty about my just for swatching wool. And hurrying madly to find a project for it. Yeah, I fully agree that’s irrational, but it’s how I feel.

Mustaa villaa’s hat pattern is perfect for this situation, especially since it calls for 8ply/DK. If you’re Aussie you know that’s the most common weight here … by far. I’m really enjoying mixing the colours for the band, and looking forward to a guilt free knitting future. And to finally telling the kids, when I’m near the end: “Oh, yes, this one’s for you”.

My blog posts? I think I need to do some freeing up, stretching and shaking out. Possibly focus on my breathing too. My posts are too tense, too thought out.

Anyway. I remember a year or so ago discussion on Ravelry about “beastly” knits. Designers hating knit wear, making it look oversized, strangling, ugly. Since then, my eye has changed. My thinking too.

For me, this is a celebration of the stocking stitch. Its right side and, cleverly, a view of the wrong side as a simple collar. It’s huge stocking stitch, magnified. So you really look at it again with fresh eyes. In striking colour that you can’t ignore.

Oh, that giant cast on, and cast off! If you knit: how many times have you stared at those stitches, counting them? Now they’re plain for all to see, on the cuffs. And that slight sag, forming the peplum (restrained by a narrow belt, is it threaded through?)

Too bulky? Look, if you live in a really cold climate, I’m sure most of your Winter clothes are rather bulky. Makes you look too fat? … or doll like?

See, my eyes have changed.

Image used for review: style.com

It is lovely doing a class: being with other people excited to craft; discussing by pointing, touching and showing; hearing things you never thought to ask (machines can knit, but there are no machines that crochet, it’s always totally by hand). And it’s such a confidence boost to know most of my self-taught ways are actually the “proper” way!

I’ll be back at my desk, in my usual creative space next week. But I must say I’ve enjoyed being out and about.

1. From A. Because it’s a nice, smooth stone.

2. This sticky tape is too big. But very useful. So if it’s staying on my desk, it can hold all my post-its, used bus tickets and little bits of paper.

3. Notes from school, forms to fill out, things to remember …

4. Mess. It moves, it changes, it’s always there!

5.  My current book bag. The kids don’t go to the local school, I wanted Montessori. So I spend a lot of time in a café or at the library, waiting for them to finish. Reading, doing homework, thinking. Underneath there’s my pile of pattern-making books. I plan to read each one this year, slowly. And a Vogue Living from Mum (in turn, a gift from Nan).

6. I had to check for my post last night.

7. More library books. I might use some flowers in my tea towel swap. What will happen when libraries go digital? When books go digital? And we no longer visit libraries or book shops? We’ll still have the information, but is it the same? And what of the second-hand booksellers? I’ve found a lot of interesting things second-hand, books I never could/would have bought new. And I’ve become expert at browsing libraries for hidden treasures…

8. More crochet project. I’ll tell you about it once I’ve made more.

I know some of you only visit me on Thursdays, so: Have a great week everyone!

Yes, Germaine, Mum did actually ask for a handmade gift. I suspect she knows I have more fabric/time than money at the moment … And so I took the opportunity to try my first patchwork.

The fabrics are from a charm pack: Botany by Lauren and Jessi Jung for moda. You know, I haven’t really used craft fabrics before. Admired them, yes. Stroked them on the bolt in the shops, uh, yes. But actually sewn with them? No, I’ve basically used dress fabrics: cheap or better quality.

So this project gave me a couple of surprises. First, I’d always thought that not using craft fabrics for dressmaking was kinda snobby: it isn’t. Roll on all the designers (actually it’s not their fault), roll on all the manufacturers offering craft fabric designs on dressmaking and other types of fabric. And second, I’d thought that combining the fabrics contained in a charm pack would be kinda brainless. I mean, they’ve been specifically designed to go together, haven’t they? Well, they probably were designed to match. But I didn’t happen to like that particular fresh Spring green with that particular turquoise. Might be just me. Or might be unrealistic expectations. Any rate, I decided one side of the patchwork bags would use mainly the fresh greens; the other mixed the turquoises.

Look pretty and neat, don’t they? But they’re actually a bit wonky. I mean, I knew attaching the linings would be a problem: I’d sized them without factoring in any space needed for bulky seams, turn of cloth or any concepts like that. As a result, there’s a tuck just where the ribbons are joined. And I rather like that tuck, makes the bags a little more interesting. Next time, I’ll design in a tuck (on purpose).

My other issue was a bit more unexpected. I’d chosen what I thought was a really simple pattern for my first patchwork: just lots of squares. Arranged in a grid. No fancy hexagons, diamonds, nothing. Just a grid. About an hour into sewing (I’m slow: I sew and think, sew more, ponder..). Anyway, about an hour into sewing I realised a grid-based pattern requires you to line things up exactly. And I couldn’t. I did try, with lots of pins. Hence my question: am I mad to worry if my patchwork is about 2mm out in places? Lots of places?

Deep down, I know the answer. No, I should be more accurate. It’d look better. So, dear experienced patchworkers, some more questions: what should I have done? I’ll admit to treating a my fabric like paper: folding in half, scoring and cutting (with scissors). Was that my downfall? I’ll also admit my sewing may have veered from straight by about 1mm on occasion: did those slight errors multiply? Or is there some particular technique I should have known about and used?

And yes, I did check my patchwork books, limited though my collection is. And I realised all my Japanese books are about hand patchworking. Not by machine. Even though one of them is specifically about different designs made from squares (and triangles). I also have Last-Minute Patchwork + Quilted Gifts by Joelle Hoverson which doesn’t really have a lot of grid-based designs. Perhaps so you can make them last minute, eh? And they still look good as gifts? Yes, Germaine, there’s often quite a bit of truth to what you say, however offended we get. But nine patches are a traditional grid pattern, so there must be a way to align them?