Lace and Lace-making Tools

Day 44: If you're a lace-maker, it should be fairly easy for you to pair up these six different types of lace with the tools used to make them, and even if you can't match them all, you should be able to get the rest by inference. However, if you're not a lace-maker...if you're one of those people who annoy me by calling tatting "crochet"...here's your chance to learn more about lace in its various forms. These are by no means the only ways lace can be made, and even within each type/style, there are variations (bobbin lace can be Honiton, Bedsfordshire, etc., crochet can be Irish, filet, and so on), but those are subjects of a more technical nature. I should have included a piece of Teneriffe (a needle-made, knotted lace), and #6 could have been a better example if I had made it with a much finer thread), and I did not include hardanger which, while it can be lacy, is not technically "lace." Now that I have set the stage, let me say that my love of lace is my one and only "pink and fluffy" side. No, it doesn't go well with hiking boots and flannel shirts, but I love making it, even if I don't wear it. Now...match 'em up, tool (letter) to lace (number), and don't look at the answers until you're done. 

How did you do?

1 is of course bobbin lace, arguably the finest lace I make, using cotton or linen threads in the #100-125 range. You make it with bobbins like those shown at C (anything from five to hundreds of pairs). The example used 22 pairs.

2 is good ol' crochet like your granny used to do. I prefer to work with #20-#50 threads for doilies and edgings. It is made with a hook (a #12 is shown at E).

3 is netted lace. It is made with a netting needle/shuttle like the one shown at F. The knots are the same ones used to make fishing nets.

4 is knitted lace. This particular example was made by my husband's grandmother using 4-6 knitting pins (extremely fine knitting needles) similar to those shown at B.

5 is tatting, easily identifiable by the "ring and chain" design elements. It can be made with a shuttle like the one at A, but I prefer to use a tatting needle (not shown).

6 is needle lace (and a rather clunky, for-purposes-of-demonstration piece made with #20 crochet cotton). It is usually made with a fine, blunt-pointed tapestry needle, although it can be made with a standard sewing needle (D) if you're careful not to split the threads. Small motifs such as this one can be joined with chains and/or other filling stitches to make much larger works.

Q-Snap

Day 43: For years, I did all my quilting in what was essentially an enormous embroidery hoop, oval or round, depending on what was available each time the tightening block failed (which it did all too often). The hoop was held in a floor stand which at best was an awkward arrangement, or downright annoying as the weight of the quilt tipped the front of the hoop down toward the floor. I was bemoaning the situation to a friend one day, and she said, "I have a Q-Snap frame I'm not using any more. You can have it," and it's proved to be one of the best hand-me-downs I've ever fallen heir to. Basically, it's nothing more than PVC pipes and elbows, but with one important addition: the "snappers" (half-pipes of a more rigid plastic) which grip the quilt firmly when snapped into place. It's easy to set up, easy to move the quilt to the next "screen" (i.e., area to be worked on), and breaks down to fit in a box which can be stored in the back of a closet without taking up much space. I did make one adjustment to the engineering by adding a cross-brace on the bottom to keep the legs in the fully upright position. In the case of this project, when I'm done for the day, I pop the top off, quilt and all and stow it in the Loom Room to keep Merry from using it as a trampoline.

Milkweed Dehiscence

Day 42: After weeks of waiting patiently for my milkweed pods to dehisc, only to see them developing mold in our damp weather, I decided it was time for an intervention. I cut the stems and laid them inside the unheated garage where I hoped they would dry and split. I wasn't even sure they'd ripened, since they had never turned brown as I felt they should have done, left alone on the plants. Now it has to be said that I don't generally have much reason to go in the garage, so they were there for a week or two before I opened the door again. That brief disturbance of the air as the door swung back sent milkweed fluffies into every nook and cranny in the building! They drifted down like snowflakes as my mind struggled to comprehend what was happening, so unexpected was the sight. You know what they say: Be careful what you wish for. Dehiscence had indeed occurred. In spades.

Pilophorus and Friends

Day 41: Walking the one-mile loop trail in Ashford County Park, I didn't really expect to find anything I hadn't seen dozens of times, although I was rather hoping for a slime mold. None showed up, but as I began the descending leg of the trip, I focused on the boulders lining the uphill side of the trail. There were several patches of dusty grey-green lichenization, too fine and too immature for me to even guess at an identification until I came to this one. "Pilophorus acicularis!" I said. It's one of my favourites, and its black-tipped apothecia make it unmistakable. You can see two or three in the upper right corner of the photo. It wasn't until I pulled the pictures up on the computer that I noticed another set of black apothecia in the lower left. They are not the same lichen. Had I not been so intent on Pilophorus, I would have sectioned one of the apothecia with my thumbnail to see if it contained any red pigment. Next time I walk the trail, I'll check to see if it's Mycoblastus sanguinarius, as I believe it might be.

Timing Is Everything

Day 40: Lately, it's seemed like there was always some other call upon my time when we were to have nice weather, preventing me from going out for a walk. I was either keeping repairmen amused, compelled by an empty fridge to go grocery shopping, or had some other obligation. Nice days are few and far between at this time of year in western Washington, and I was starting to get crabby, so when all the moving parts came together in accord, I took a once-around of our little county park. I only found one thing of note (coming up tomorrow), but I hadn't expected to find anything at all. You take what's offered, however small. At any rate, that blue stuff behind the leaves here will be short-lived. It may be spring before I get another chance for a pleasant walk.

Blackwork Bird

Day 39: I've been doing a lot of embroidery lately, mostly as "slow-stitching." As I was working, it occurred to me that I'd started some blackwork months ago, and hadn't done anything on it for quite some time. I dug down in the bottom of my workbasket, and underneath a pair of half-finished socks, there was the Bird. First let me say that those socks will probably never be finished. The yarn is some utterly horrible, loosely twisted, irregular stuff I picked up on sale from Herrschner's. I've sworn never to fall into that trap again! I will probably unravel the socks and use the yarn in a weaving project so it isn't a complete loss. Anyway...the Bird has been on my Bucket List of projects ever since I bought Elizabeth Geddes and Moyra McNeill's "Blackwork Embroidery" (a Dover book) some forty years ago. It is on the cover. My version of it uses different filling stitches and some small amount of artistic license, and when it is done, it will go in a frame to match two other pieces of blackwork hanging in my living room. I don't often keep needlework for myself, but blackwork is something I particularly like, both to work and to see. The three pieces are quite different from one another: the Bird (when it's done), a Dresden plate design, and a square maze, which together show the versatility of blackwork. Time to get some of these "Bucket List" pieces done!

Loom Room Blooms

Day 38: A certain mischievous varmint's propensity for getting into things he's not supposed to get into means that my Christmas cacti remain in the Loom Room window rather than being brought out and placed on the mantel when they come into bloom. Strangely enough, he heeds my admonitions of "No, not for kitties!" and "Off! Curl up in your little weaver's box and be good!" when I'm back there, although once he's had his nap and wakes up again, I may have to repeat myself. In actuality, I haven't been weaving much lately. I have a very boring project on Max at the moment, and I've been otherwise occupied with finishing up some Christmas gifts, quilting and embroidering, all of which are crafts I do in the living room. I nearly missed the picotee cactus' flowering period, but it alerted me to the buds coming on the yellow and white ones shown here. The white is particularly lush this year. Maybe I should take its hint and finish up those monotonous placemats while it's in full splendor.