Not to toot my own horn, but I LOVE this blanket. It is my new favorite relax-and-read-a-book snuggle buddy. I think one of the reasons I love it so much is that it was such a pleasant surprise. I'll be honest, I hate seaming blankets together. I can get on board with seams in a piecework quilt but I do not enjoy, nor ever will, seams on blankets that should not have seams. And by this I mean blankets that would otherwise be a whole cloth, your weaving width just did not allow you to make it that big so you had to make it smaller and sew it together later. Don't get me wrong, I have seamed my fair share of blankets and they are lovely blankets. My four-shaft loom is only 24" across, there is no avoiding seams. I just know I would like the blankets better if there were no seam(s). I think it might be a lack in seaming talent on my part; I never get a pretty seam no matter how I try. For example, I love my shadow weave blanket, and even though I lined up the pattern, the seams just make me sad because they are like little fiber scars running in rails down my blanket. But I digress, this post is not about my feelings on seams...it's about my feelings on NO SEAMS! BOOM!
The answer to creating a lovely plain weave blanket that was wide enough to be considered something beyond a baby blanket without the seams was double weave. Oh my goodness, you can push your rigid heddles to some next level nonsense with double weave. I feel like I have only scratched the surface of possibility on this one. And it doesn't stop there. You can enjoy some multi-shaft double weave, as well, I just haven't gone down that road myself...yet.
However, in a nutshell, by using two heddles on a rigid heddle loom and two pick up sticks, you can simultaneously create two layers of fabric. Why do this? I'm so glad you asked. Any width of weaving you can create on your little loom can be doubled by simply using the correct weaving sequence to ensure one side of your weaving (ultimately both of your selvedge edges together) is open and the other side is part of a continuous plain weave and closed (the center of your cloth). Then, miracles of miracles, when you pull your double layered cloth off your loom, you simply unfold it and have your continuous double width.
I am sure you can see how practical this is for blankets. A 32" rigid heddle (such as the one I use) can create a 64" width cloth. That is plenty big for a throw or lap blanket. However, it can also be used on a smaller scale with smaller looms. Have a 15" loom that never quite managed the proper kitchen towel size? Thirty inches ought to get it. Napkins on a 10" loom? No way. But with 20" of weaving width, sure! Even creating cloth for sewing garments seems achievable on little looms in the 20" range. Suddenly "too small" leaves the lexicon and "let's go" happily takes its place.
It is my goal to put up some tutorials on this wonderful process of weaving. I think it is one that perhaps is less familiar but could really open doors for some weavers feeling limited by width. I have put the pattern for this double weave creation up in my Etsy store. I have tried to include solid instructions on warping and the weaving sequence, including diagrams. As always, please contact me if times are tight and purchasing patterns is out of reach for you.
I wrote this article for KnitScene a little while ago. With the past year being what it was, I thought maybe it would be a nice thing to post here. Mental wellness is something that needs work. Mental illness is something that needs more attention than it gets. In this piece, I shared a small glimpse into what it was for me to be the partner of someone who struggles daily with anxiety and how knitting helped my family. It is still a journey my partner and I are traveling together, and everyone's journey is different. Whether you struggle with mental illness, have forgotten your own mental wellness, or just would like to know you are not alone, please give this a read.
It has been my personal experience that the things that change your life the most happen very suddenly and are rarely ever planned. This is not a profound observation, but it certainly applies to how anxiety turned my life a little sideways. I will state up front that I do not struggle with anxiety or depression, but my partner does. Before we were married, he was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. He was prescribed some medicine and we felt that was that. I would say we were young and naïve, but we were also complacent in understanding what something like struggling with anxiety actually meant. Then, two small kids deep in a new home and a budding career, the medicine stopped working.
I did not handle it well.
Things shifted so suddenly our heads spun as we tried to figure out what our new normal was going to look like. When I say I did not handle it well, I do not mean I shut down or did not support the suffering and struggle my partner was undergoing- I mean I tried to take on everything that had suddenly shifted. At the time, I had two children under the age of three and was a stay-at-home mother. There were a lot of us responsibilities my husband and I shared that suddenly became just me things. But I wanted so bad to be super mom, super wife, super supportive, and support self-sufficient. By taking on as much as possible and pretending it was easy was, I told myself, how I could lessen the stress on my family. After a couple of months of this it is fair to say I started to feel a little frayed around the edges. Yes, my husband had a mental health issue, but completely ignoring my own mental health was not the answer. How was I going to help my family if I fell apart myself?
As I was living this life change, I was not as aware as I am now of my struggle to stay afloat. I found it difficult to turn off the worry and stress that I carried in regards to what the future held. It was difficult to watch the daily struggle my husband went through to get to work and the mental fatigue I knew he felt when he got home where two small children and a wife waited for him. I felt guilty that he had the added pressure of being the sole financial support for our family. I will not pretend to understand what it feels like to have severe anxiety, but I know whatever worries I was feeling, my husband felt them even more keenly and was fighting them more fiercely- and that worried me, too. I felt like I was standing next to a monster called Anxiety and could do nothing as it dealt out despair and havoc on my loved ones.
Then, just as the anxiety seemed to take over our lives almost completely, there was another one of those moments, very small, that changed my life completely. My husband, who will read anything sitting near him, was flipping through one of my knitting magazines. Out of nowhere, he looked up and said;
“I like this sweater. Could you knit me this?”
I was taken completely off guard. I love knitting, I always have. My husband supports my passion for fiber, but he had never before asked me to make something for him. I was so tickled at the request; of course there was no question I would make the sweater for him. Even if it was the craziest, hardest, wildest sweater- I was going to knit it. Lucky for me, it was not an ugly sweater, but it was heavily cabled. At that point, I knew how to knit a cable, but I had never knit a sweater covered in cables. The sweater was the beautiful Belfast Cardigan designed by the talented Irina Anikeeva. I immediately bought supplies and got to work.
It was slow going. I could only knit at night after the kids went to bed. The pattern was just complicated enough that I needed to focus on almost every stitch as I made it. With charts spread in front of me, I put on my knit face and got to work. Some nights I only finished one row, maybe not even, and other nights I impressed myself with finishing almost an inch. With my little cable needle at the ready, I twisted and knit, purled and held. As I knitted, each stitch seemed to carry away a little bit of my own stress. By the time I was established in my evening knitting groove, the only thing on my mind was the stitch on my needles. I now realize these sessions with my yarn brought me back to the living moment.
Without really being aware of what I was doing, I had introduced meditation into my daily routine. While knitting, there was no regret about what happened or what we might miss out on or worry about what was going to happen next; there was only a blissful focus on the now. I found that I was sleeping better, feeling better, and recognizing my own limitations and coming to terms with them. It also helped me see not everything needed to be as it was, that changes in our family and how we did things was okay. That particular project, with the motivation of completing a sweater for my husband, acted like a pressure valve for my emotions; each night I was able to release the stress built up during the day and see the beauty grow both in my knitting and my life.
It was not always easy, even after I accidentally found a way to practice meditation through knitting. Just how sometimes you have to rip back a few rows when knitting, there were days where we had to rip back a few things in our lives and try again. But as the Belfast Cardigan came to life, the twisting cables and delightful diamonds seemed to represent the progress my husband and I made in redefining a new normal for us in a positive way. When the sweater was finally finished, I saw so much of our struggle and pain in the stitches, but also the hope and perseverance, hard work and dedication. It was like the cardigan held a secret documentation of our journey. It was such a special gift I was able to give. It also serves as a reminder, each time my husband slips his arms through the sleeves and I watch him head outdoors, that my knitting needles not only created the cardigan, they created a space for me to take care of myself.
Mental health issues are hard for people to talk about. There still seems to be a lot of social stigma around the words “mental illness” and that is a true tragedy. When 40 million Americans suffer from anxiety in any given year, it is very likely you know someone who is directly impacted. Let us reach out to one another, showing kindness and understanding, knowing that people can be struggling with things we cannot readily see. And when we need to remind ourselves to cherish the living moment, let us create space to do so and lose ourselves in some meditative knitting.