Mixing Things up for a Sweater
words and photos by: Johanna Carter
I always admire those who are able to spin mountains of yarn for a big project, ready to knit a wonderful sweater or cardigan. It is a satisfying feeling when you finish all that work, especially if you started with washing and combing the wool or even raising your own sheep.
Mixing spinning and knitting
The typical way to work through a larger project is to spin all the singles first and ply them in a particular order so you get the yarn even throughout the whole project. I don’t have so many bobbins, but my bigger problem is that I am quite impatient and want to get on with knitting once I have an idea. And normally, my brain is full of ideas for fibre work and the limit is the time, as I am a musician and teacher. I can’t sit at the spinning wheel for a long time if I’m not on holiday, so during the school year I mostly knit, and during the holidays I can dye, spin, use my drum carder, and do lots of fibre work. The only time I was able to produce bigger quantities of yarn before I knitted them up was during the Tour de Fleece in the two years during the pandemic, when we did not go on holiday at the beginning of July.
I like to finish knitting one big project like a sweater or cardigan before I start the next one, or at least until I can’t carry it in my bag easily anymore, so I have an excuse to begin the next one. Sometimes it is good to have a second project on the go – I call it mindless knitting, where I don’t have to look very much – which I can keep my hands busy during Zoom or other meetings, which helps me listen.
Mixing colours and fibres
Usually I dye my yarn with plants which I collect in the woods or get from garden flowers. I also use cochineal and indigo, which I buy, to get lots of different colours. I really love the greens and blues I get from dyeing with indigo. I have lots of dyed wool, and all those colours give me inspiration for further projects.
Blending the wool on the drum carder I can get even more shades. I like to blend with fibres like silk, alpaca, or plant fibres, and I love sari silk, to get those little bits of colour in my yarn.
When I have an idea for the next sweater, I start carding, and then I can begin to spin. Once I have spun enough yarn – say, for one day – I cast on and start knitting, usually top down, so I don’t have to decide too much in advance about length and width.
When I spin on my wheel, I have to sit at home, but while spinning I can read a book or talk to others during online meetings. I also like to spin on my spindles, and that works on a walk, or a museum visit. I take them on holiday as they don’t need much space, and when I spin for a lace shawl, I don’t even need much wool either. At home there are spindles all over the place; I can spin when I am waiting for the kettle to boil, when the computer is slow, when I am cooking. Like that I can make good use of a short time and the yarn still grows.
I can take my knitting almost everywhere, which is why I don’t want to wait to get started until I have spun all the yarn for a whole sweater. I knit at home, on the bus or train. The only thing I have to make sure of is to be one step ahead with the yarn.
I love to knit Fair Isle sweaters. My favourite method is to use only one bobbin, which I don’t even fill, because I need smaller quantities of lots of colours. Then I wind a ply ball and ply it on itself. For that I put my thumb through the ball, so I can tension the two singles with my fingers and they don’t get tangled, as long as my thumb (or a cardboard roll or a pencil) stays in the middle. I don’t have any leftovers from plying, and it is quick when I suddenly need more yarn.
I have never had problems with the yarn not being consistent enough throughout a project. I just know what yarn I want and my fingers seem to remember what to do. I am sure it is good advice to have a little card tied to the spinning wheel with a bit of the singles you are aiming for, so you can check and make sure you are spinning a consistent yarn.
Mixing breeds
There are so many different breeds, but some of my favourites are Shetland, BFL, and Jämtland – a Swedish breed. After dyeing them, I often forget what I have used, so when I do a new project it often turns out that I have used different breeds and fibres just to get the right colour. For the Fair Isle knitting I want to juggle lots of colours, which is more important to me than making a sweater out of only one breed.
Recently I made a pullover for my husband using about 12 different breeds and colours, even mixing short and long draw. For me it was a breed experiment and a way to use up lots of smaller quantities of wool I had in my stash. For that sweater I used combed top without blending.

Mixing in knitting during the spinning process is a wonderful way for a spinner to avoid being overwhelmed during a sweater project.
My feeling is that some people don’t dare to start spinning for a bigger project because they get overwhelmed by the quantity they have to spin and then all the knitting there is to do, especially when you want to spin the yarn entirely on spindles. Mixing the spinning and knitting for the same project is more interesting; you get more variety and more freedom to choose what you want to do next as long as you don’t run out of yarn. It breaks the project down into smaller, less daunting parts. The only thing you might want to plan is to have enough fibre at the start, but even that is not necessary, there is always a sheep growing more wool.
Spinning for a Durable Pair of Mitts
words and photos by Rebecca Roy
Whenever spinners discuss making yarn that can stand up to a great deal of wear, it is usually in the context of socks. I often feel like making a confession … I have never finished knitting a pair of socks. It’s never interested me. Phew, I feel better now that I’ve got that off my chest. However, this does not mean I haven’t spun yarns with durability as my goal.
I love to wear fingerless mitts, and my mitts get a lot of wear. They are the perfect accessory for me in the damp and chill of Scottish winters (and autumns and springs for that matter). The frequent dampness combined with the friction of active use has meant that many of my mitts begin to full and pill quite badly. The biggest problem spots are where the thumb rubs against the palm and also the cuff where my tough rain jacket is constantly moving against the fabric. My mitts don’t get holes like socks do but most have ended up looking pretty rough after only one winter.
When I purchased some dyed Southdown from Hilltop Cloud back in 2018, I decided to put to the test the durability and resistance to fulling that the Down breeds are known for. I also figured the springy nature of the Southdown fibre could give me some good elasticity so the mitts would keep their shape after months of being yanked on and off. I hate when fingerless mitts get baggy around my fingers, don’t you?
The Southdown top was dyed as a set of 3 complimentary semisolids: navy, sage green, and grey. I decided to spin each colour on its own and use the 3 separate yarns in some kind of colourwork. I wanted a smooth, firm yarn with good elasticity, so I decided on a basic 3-ply with quite firm ply twist.
I spun all the singles and plied the yarn on my spindles during Tour de Fleece in 2018.

When spinning on my spindles, I monitor my twist by checking the plyback frequently as I wind on. My singles were about 28 WPI, and the plyback had a twist angle of about 30 degrees. When it came time to ply, I added extra twist and went past a “balanced” yarn. I could feel the extra energy pushing back against the spindle just a bit during the plying. The finished 3-ply has a twist angle of about 45 degrees, but the extra ply twist settled down in the finishing and the skeins hung open and relaxed. After a warm soak, the finished yarn puffed a bit and ended up as a very round springy yarn at 16 WPI. The yarn was a bit denser than my usual 3-ply as well; I got only 960 YPP, and I can feel the solid nature of the yarn.

This yarn is not soft nor does it drape. The skeins wouldn’t make you want to nuzzle them against your face. But it is perfect for its purpose. It is very springy and has a firm sponginess to it that resists compression. Its very firm roundness caused me to change my initial plans. I swatched a couple of stranded colourwork motifs, but the extra layer of floats at the back of the fabric was a bit uncomfortable. Each strand was so distinct and round that I could feel the floats against my skin, standing proud of the inner surface. I decided to mix the 3 colours with stripes instead. The finished mitts were very smooth, and the stitches looked crisp. They hugged my hands nicely, with no prickly feeling on the inside of my wrists.
So how have these mitts lasted through wear over the past 3 years? From time to time, a few small pills would show up on the edges, but these were easily picked away. I have worn these regularly in rain and shine, working in the garden, driving, playing in our paltry snow. There has been no fulling and no blurring of the stitches. The mitts still hug my wrists and they haven’t become floppy around the edges either. They look pretty much the same as when they came off the needles, and I expect they will for some years to come.

I would give most of the credit for these elastic and unflappable mitts to the Southdown fibre itself. Like all the classic Down breeds, the fibre really does stand up beautifully to friction and dampness without fulling. With a bit of extra twist, the yarn did exactly what I wanted it to do. Even though the knitting was a little uncomfortable due to the firmness of the yarn and the ribbing doesn’t look as neat as I would like, the fabric is just perfect for mittens: springy, hard-wearing, and ready for any weather year after year.
Becca Roy learned to spin on a spindle back in 2010 and was immediately entranced. A spindle is still her favourite fibre tool. She has been a member of the West of Scotland Guild for nearly as long. She lives near Glasgow, Scotland with her family. At the moment, her favourite yarn is anything tweedy but that will probably change any day.
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Recent Textile Discoveries in Archaeology
Archaeologists have made some textile discoveries in the past year that are of interest to spinners and clothmakers.
In Turkey, at a rather large Stone Age settlement known as Çatalhöyük, cloth was found in 1962. It took decades of discussion and new data and discoveries to determine if the cloth was made from wool or linen. Ultimately, researchers determined the cloth was made from bast fiber from oak trees. (from Norwegian SciTechNews)
In Spain, in a cave near Cordoba, archaeologists found a piece of fabric that is “the oldest evident of textiles in the Iberian Penninsula.” This loom-woven fragment is about 5400 years old. (from The Olive Press)
In Wales, in an Iron Age hillfort, one of the artifacts founds was a “stone spindle whorl.” (from The Past)
Two burial mounds in Poland, from the Wielbark culture about 2000 years ago, contained a number of items related to weaving such as spindles and spools. (from Heritage Daily)
In Norway, a number of discoveries have been found along Viking trade routes. One well-preserved piece of clothing has been called the “Lendbreen Tunic” and was made of wool. Also find was a distaff made from birch. (from Artnet News)
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Comfort Fiber
words by Sylvia Smith
I write this while enjoying a cornucopia of natural offerings brought on by changing seasons. These seasonal changes have caused me to shift my focus from outdoor activities back to my fiber arts pursuits. My link to emotional quietude has been through fiber. Specifically, I am working through the home study (PLAR) option of Master Spinner Level 2 offered through Olds College. I completed Level 1 in September 2020 and elected to immediately dive into Level 2 as a positive focus for my energy during a pandemic-altered winter. The homework for both Level 1 and Level 2 of the Olds College Master Spinner program requires the student to spin specific fibers, as well as to spin fibers using specific methods and to recommended specifications.
I received a beautiful Athena Capricorn wheel for Christmas and an Electric Eel Nano for my birthday in January. I also recently bought a Dundas wheel from an old friend. Each of these spinning wheels operates differently from my Lendrum double-treadle wheel, on which I have treadled hundreds of hours to produce many miles of yarn. Upon receipt of each of these new spinning machines, I wanted to explore their unique traits without worrying about the quality of yarn that I would initially produce. I dove into my fiber stash and emerged with a bump of my good ole’ comfort fiber.
My comfort fiber is the result of purchasing a fleece produced by a dark colored mixed-breed sheep that I saw in a field about 25 years ago when I was still an inexperienced and solitary spinner living in central Idaho. After the owners sheared the sheep and sold me its huge dark-colored (possibly) Rambouillet cross fleece, I attempted to scour it and then sent it to a mill in north Idaho that processed it into thick pencil roving. This comfort fiber represents the very first raw fleece I ever purchased, and I have used this wool in countless public spinning demonstrations. I include inspirational amounts of this roving when I send aspiring new spinners out into the world with their own spindles featuring whorls made of either CDs or popsicle sticks.

I am much more experienced and discerning about raw fleeces than I was when I purchased that first fleece. I now know I did not do an excellent job scouring the fleece and the fleece likely had second cuts and possibly a break in the fiber. The mill did a fine job processing what I now recognize was a mediocre fiber product
This comfort wool was the perfect fiber for me to use to acquaint myself with my new spinning wheels. Since I have spun a lot of this roving in different circumstances and for various purposes over the years, I have become quite familiar with its woolen and somewhat slubby characteristics. I understand that I will never produce a completely smooth and uniform worsted yarn with it. By using my comfort fiber that will never produce a perfect worsted yarn, I felt free to just play with my new wheels and become familiar with their unique personalities. I relaxed into the spinning process while drafting my imperfect comfort fiber and gained confidence in my techniques with each wheel without judging the yarn as it formed on the bobbin.
I compare my bond with my comfort fiber to our society’s gusto for such foods as baked macaroni and cheese, ice cream, or burgers and fries. We know that a steady diet of these foods will not contribute to a state of optimal health, just as spinning my comfort fiber will not produce perfect yarn. However, the aromas, textures and flavors of our comfort foods remind us of pleasant memories and link us to experiential traditions. It is a good thing to occasionally give our spirits and bellies a moderate dose of such treats, though we may choose to partake more regularly in other foods in order to promote well-being. Similarly, I have learned over many years to be quite discerning about the types of fiber and method of preparation if I spin a yarn for a specific use. When I sat down to a brand new spinning wheel in a world that has been so changed by the pandemic, it felt so very reassuring to smell, touch, and spin my good ole’ comfort fiber because it elicited great memories and validated the knowledge I have gained since I first acquired that fleece. As I drafted my comfort fiber into yarn on my new wheel, I felt like I was spinning threads of possibility for more fun fiber adventures and learning opportunities.
Sylvia Smith learned to spin in 1994 while living in Challis, ID, and was a solitary spinner in that small and remote community. She and her husband now live in Kalispell, MT, where Sylvia has many friends in the fiber arts world and is active in the Alpine Weavers and Spinners Guild.

PLY Magazine believes that Black lives matter, as well as LBGTQI+ lives. Those most vulnerable and persecuted in our communities deserve our love and support. Please be good to each other.
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