A Merry Merry Christmas

Day 74: It's a Merry Christmas! No tree...he'd climb it...no presents out for me to poke and prod...he'd eat the ribbons and tear into the bags...no decorations on the mantel...he's stopped prowling it, but a wreath of birds would be just too much temptation...no garland, no lights in the window...nothing which might entice a little Merry cat into mischief and get him yelled at. While the house may be bare of decoration except for one lantern hung high and entirely out of reach, it is a house chock full of love: full of love, full of cuddles, full of purrs and playfulness and joy. May your Christmas be as Merry!

Max's Christmas Weave

Day 74 (bonus edition): I've been working hard all day to get to this point. Max is fully warped, and I've run several throws of slicky cord to establish the width of the piece. This is my customary way of starting a piece of weaving...no toilet paper, no sticks, no rag strips...just six or eight throws of a nylon cord to space the warp. After I have woven an inch or so with the threads I am actually going to use, I will hemstitch over the first two true throws, and then I'll pull the slicky cord out. There is very little waste doing it this way. I have a selection of nylon cord in various diameters to match the threads I usually use. In this case, I'm going to be using 5/2 cotton for the overshot and 8/2 for the tabby. I chose a slicky cord similar to the 5/2 cotton. I'm pretty tired now, so I may not start the actual weaving until tomorrow, but at least Max is ready for his Christmas Weave!

Christmas Weave With Help

Day 73: I had intended to wait until I had a few throws or even a full motif on my Christmas Weave, but I had so much Help while warping that I simply couldn't wait until I finished threading the loom. I use poster board (one of the thinner types) to pad the warp as I wind it on to prevent the threads from sinking into the previous layer, and as they peel off the warp roller during the weaving process, I stow them behind a sheet of plywood against the wall to flatten them out a bit for the next time. I'd pulled out several sheets and dropped one of them as I walked around to the other side of the loom to run the crank. Merry, good little Weaver's Cat that he is, wasn't in his box when I turned around again, and then I noticed that the curled-up piece of poster board I'd dropped was wiggling. I peered inside. Yep, he was at the far end of the tunnel, so I grabbed a camera, but this is what greeted me when I came back into the room. Needless to say, I left this piece 'til last. Max is partially threaded, and I'll be done in time to put on an inch or three before bed tonight...with Help, of course.

Undressed For Christmas

Day 72: Most people put on finery (or at least an ugly sweater) for Christmas. Max got undressed instead. I have been diligently plugging away in the hopes of finishing the "weftovers" (i.e., the remaining warp) following three tablecloth panels, a length of roughly five feet. I wasn't sure I'd make my goal, but with Merry's cooperation, I got it done. I had also thought I might finish up the towels on the table loom in the living room, but discovered I had more warp left than I'd thought. Even so, I will probably be done with that in time to have a "New Year's Weave" on both looms. It's funny how those little personal goals can motivate. The idea is to set them just far enough out that you have to push yourself to achieve them, but not so far that you defeat yourself with something which is impossible to attain (or nearly so). Max already has a new warp in waiting: "Friend Evelyn" (an overshot) in "A Handweaver's Pattern Book" in two shades of green. Schacht (the table loom) is earmarked for an experiment with halvdräll, a Swedish technique which is sometimes described as a simplified overshot. Halvdräll only requires four shafts, two for the pattern and two for plain weave/tabby. I have yet to decide if I just want to weave a sample the first time around, or if I want to warp for a complete project. I'm not really fond of weaving on Schacht because the jacks are operated manually, placing too much strain on my repaired shoulder. That said, Max will be tied up for some time because again, I'll be weaving a coverlet in three panels. In any event, I'm excited by the prospect of new projects, as always.

Seasonal Blahs

Day 71: The seasonal Blahs have come on in a massive wave, at least along a 100-foot stretch of the Bud Blancher Trail in Eatonville. I have never seen them in such abundance as where they blanketed a section of the embankment, erupting from the moss in large clusters similar to this one, and spaced only six inches to a foot apart over a three-foot width of ground. Were they stimulated by an increase in light exposure due to the cutting back of brush? And why just that one area? And why so MANY? Ramaria acrisiccescens, aka "Blah Coral," is arguably one of our most common coral fungi, its pale tendrils emerging in the cooler months of late autumn and winter. It is often found in association with Hemlock. Why "Blah?" The jury is out as to its edibility, but it has been reported to be tasteless and insipid by those who have tried it.

Winter Solstice

Day 70: A good Solstice to all! And it's a rather strange one here, what with temperatures in the mid-50s. Don't get me wrong. I'm not objecting! I've been able to get out for a couple of short walks over the last week, the longest being a little over three miles yesterday, but now we have rain coming in again. That said, rain and 50 degrees is better than snow and 20 degrees, no matter how much I'd enjoy a white Christmas. As most of you know, the winter Solstice is one of the most important days in my year. I do not have any particular way to celebrate it, other than to breathe a sigh of relief that soon, the days will be visibly longer. My body recognizes the fact about a week earlier than my mind does, responding with a rise in my overall energy level. By some time in the first week of January, I'll be saying, "Hey, it's not dark yet" at dinnertime, even though sunset has advanced only by a minute or two, and I'll be perusing seed catalogs with fervor, the urge to plant and grow strong within my nature. Spring is just around the corner, people, so join me today in celebrating the return of Light to the world!

Spinsterhood

Day 69: From the first time I sat down at my great-grandmother's wheel at four years of age, I knew I was destined to be a spinster. It wasn't until I entered my teens that I realized the second meaning of the word was also likely to apply, and of course by then, the first was no longer relevant. My great-grandma was long gone, and my grandmother who had taught me the art was in a rest home and her wheel had been sold. I forgot all about spinning, except to admire the craftspeople who put on demonstrations, but gradually, a desire to take it up was growing in the back of my mind. When I mentioned to my mother that I'd learned to spin from her mother, she told me, "Grandma didn't know how to spin. She can't have taught you," but I remembered clearly Gma turning the crank by hand as I manipulated what little fiber we'd found caught in the carders into a short piece of yarn. When I finally decided to purchase a wheel, my mother went with me, and to her utter amazement, I sat down in the shop and began to spin. "I told you Gma taught me how," I said. "And I haven't forgotten." That wheel (the Louët I bought that day) is now my "ply wheel." I spin singles on a Kromski Minstrel, and when I have two bobbins full, I set them aside to rest for at least 24 hours. This frees up the Minstrel to spin more singles. I cycle through the process, plying a little, spinning a little, and I've been known to run myself short of bobbins when I'm in "production" mode. Here's just a bit of what I've spun over the last six weeks or so. There's more off camera. The two skeins of Green Chaos and two skeins of Salt & Pepper are done. The orange 8-Ball is plied and ready to be stretched on the warping board, as is the huge bobbin loaded with Raspberry Yogurt. The two bobbins of red 8-Ball are ready to be plied, and the "purple" (a blend of red and blue) 8-Ball is a single waiting for its partner to be spun. Stretched on the warping board in the Loom Room, you'd find yellow 8-Ball and the last skein of Salt & Pepper, now waiting to be soaked and weighted to set the twist. Spinsterhood suits me well.

Dead Soldier

Day 68: In the hopes that only a leaf caught in the orifice was preventing rainfall from registering in my Davis weather station, I carefully lowered the four-year old instrument to the ground. Nope, nothing obvious, so I took the next and somewhat major step of dismounting it from the pipe which served as its tower so that I could test it indoors. I thought running water through it might clear out any blockage which was not visible, but even that didn't work. My weather station is down for the count. I doubt I'll replace it with a new unit. For the time, I'll only be recording rainfall as measured in a plastic gauge, and will have to pick up a high-low thermometer. I'll need help putting this unit back up to record wind speed since that is something I don't want to try alone.

Past Pull

Day 67: "I know I've got some dark Karo in the back of the cupboard," I said, visions of sugarplums...well, of pecan pie for Christmas dessert, anyway...dancing in my head. I started dragging out containers of olive oil, vinegar, molasses, soy sauce...cat...shortening...cat...cooking spray, maple syrup...cat...and then I could see the Karo, two bottles (one large and one small) of white, one of dark. Aha! I extracted Cat one more time and pulled out the dark. It was stuck to the shelf liner, but it came free with relative ease. "Does this stuff ever go bad?" I wondered, and then I looked at the pull date: 1984. Ooops. Both bottles of white were almost as old, so the whole shebang went in the garbage without further ado. I'm still going to make a pecan pie, but I'll be opening a brand-new bottle of Karo for the occasion.

Pseudohydnum Gelatinosum

Day 66: Cat owners will understand one of the common names of Pseudohydnum gelatinosum ssp pusillum: Cat's Tongue Fungus. It is also known as Jelly-Tooth, Toothed Jelly Fungus, or rarely, False Hedgehog, and can be found on decaying wood at any time of year, but primarily during late autumn and winter. It can be ghostly white when young, and ages to tan. It is the only "toothed jelly" occurring in North America. It is translucent like a gumdrop, and in fact can be candied! It may also be eaten raw or cooked, but thank you, I'd rather admire them in nature. In any event, you are never likely to find them in quantity. This was one of the largest colonies I have ever found.

Preparing Raspberry Yogurt

Day 65: With most of my bobbins for two spinning wheels full of single-ply yarn in the "resting" phase, I was compelled to return to a project which went on hold when Merry moved in. Little catses love fuzzy stuff, and after having to move quickly several times to keep him from swallowing what had adhered to his tongue, I decided the Raspberry Yogurt needed to be locked safely away. Now that he's beginning to understand "That's not for kitties," I felt it was safe to bring it out of hiding, although I still keep the various bits in containers with good lids when I'm not actively handling them.

So...my "Raspberry Yogurt" is a blend of magenta-on-the-red-side, pale lilac (sorta too pink for my tastes) with a touch of creamy white. I begin by applying a layer of magenta to my blending board, top it with roughly half as much lilac, add a small amount of white, and then top it off with another thinner layer of magenta. The wool is then gently combed into the teeth of my homemade blending board so that it can be drawn off with the fibers in alignment crosswise to the way they will be spun (this is a "woolen" preparation, if you've been following along). To draw them off the board, I pinch the exposed tips between two aluminum knitting needles and pull toward myself, keeping the fiber engaged in the board's teeth. When I have an inch or two drawn out, I wind it onto the needles and repeat the process to make a small rolag. In this case, I usually make three or four rolags from each batch of blended wool. The rolags will be spun from the end, and because the fiber has been wound around the needles, it comes off the rolag in a spiral fashion, corkscrewing like a tornado around a central core. Oddly, when spinning from this batch of rolags, I find that a short forward draw results in a more uniform yarn than my customary supported backwards draw. In other words, I let the wool dictate how it wanted to be spun. A good spinner should be able to switch methods of handling the fiber supply as the preparation requires.

Good Little Weaver's Cat

Day 63: "I'm gonna go weave. You wanna come with me?" The ears perk up and he raises his head from the cushion of his kitty perch next to my chair in the living room. "Go get in your little weaver's box." He jumps down and races for the Loom Room, immediately jumping up onto the cedar chest to curl up in the box. He can't bear to have me out of his sight, and he knows that if he messes with dangling strings, tie-ups, treadles, heddles or my Christmas cactus collection, he'll be exiled. I sit down to weave, and after the first dozen or so throws, I hear the sound of a contented cat snoring. He's with his mama, and that's all that matters. After I've completed eight inches or so, my shoulders are beginning to object. "Time to go out," I say. And down he hops, has a good stretch to get the kinks out, then exits to the living room, claiming my chair before I even get there.

Spinning Side Trip

Day 62: With five out of six bobbins of "Salt & Pepper" spun up (two already plied together), I decided to take a short side trip into woolen before working on the last one. Paradise Fibers experienced a fire last spring, and put all their undamaged stock on sale. I picked up several things, among which were the "Green Chaos" I just finished, and a bag of eight 25-gram balls of carded Corriedale in a rainbow array of shades. Before I go on, let me explain a couple of the different ways wool is prepared for handspinning. I have gotten very spoiled on combed top. Also known simply as "top," the individual wool fibers are in alignment lengthwise. The spinner draws the fiber out from its ends to make a durable, dense yarn using the worsted method. Yarn spun worsted has less loft than that spun in the woolen style because the fibers lay close to one another with little air space in between. Top is ideal for spinning in the worsted manner. On the other hand, roving has the fibers more jumbled together. With work, it can be spun to give something approaching worsted, but it is really better for spinning the woolen way. There are many other preparations as well, but the distinctions aren't germane to this particular discussion. However, as you can see in the photo, the preparation I am spinning here is an absolute spaghetti of fibers! This is commercially prepared "carded wool," just as it would be rolled off hand carders and formed into rolags. It can only be spun in the woolen style which results in a less uniform but loftier (and therefore warmer) yarn. As I mentioned at the beginning, I bought a bag of eight balls of carded Corriedale, knowing that I'd have to spin them in the woolen manner despite preferring to spin worsted. I played around mentally with several colour sequence options, and finally just decided to break each ball into two sections, spin each piece as a single and ply them together as a single colour. That way, I can knit a striped hat or scarf, changing colours as desired.

The Holly And The Ivy

Day 61: I would not even consider cutting a live tree for Christmas, not even if I didn't have a curious Cat, but as for the Holly and the Ivy, I encourage you to cut, cut, cut to your heart's content. Saw through the largest trunks of ivy close to the ground. Remove a one-foot section. Quite possibly, you'll have saved a tree's life. Pick the berry-bearing branches of the Holly, as many as you like. The birds have plenty else to eat, and you'll slow the spread by eliminating their seed-rich eliminations. The Holly and the Ivy may be celebrated in song, but they are not welcome in our woods.

A Chance Encounter

Day 60: Out toward the end of a county road, there is a tiny cemetery which has on its property line a female holly tree about fifteen feet tall. It has reliably supplied me with three or four twigs for decorating every year for the past six or seven Christmases. I made the pilgrimage yesterday on my way home from grocery shopping, and when I stepped out of the car, this peacock came pelting out of a nearby driveway heading straight toward me. One of my grandmothers had her arm broken by a goose, so I have a healthy respect for large birds and consequently began a retreat to the safety of my car. I didn't need to worry, though, because close on Mr. Peacock's heels came a Border Collie. The peacock angled off its attack trajectory and went on down the road, but the dog then took up station, lying down at my feet. It behaved as if it was waiting for a command, but of course I didn't know the words it had been trained to recognize, so I just said, "Well? Do you want to help? Come on!" It seemed to understand that once I reached the holly tree, I was in no further need of herding. Meanwhile, the peacock disappeared, presumably returning to its rightful home. You never know who or what you may run into at the end of a lonely county road.

Best Christmas Present Ever

Day 59: This is not just another cute/sweet kitty picture. This is documentation. Yesterday evening, Merry gave me the best Christmas present I could have hoped for. I had fallen asleep in my chair, little-old-lady style, and was waked up by my kid stepping from his kitty perch onto the arm. He paused for a second, and then without any nudges or coercion on my part, eased his way onto my lap. He made a half-turn, then laid down in the crook of the opposite arm to his usual position, and began purring. A few minutes later, he was sleeping soundly and stayed that way for over an hour. This marked the first time he has ever initiated lap-sitting on his own. It doesn't get any better than that.

Playing With Patterns

Day 58: This is what happens when the internet goes down but the power stays on. I had two bobbins of plied "Green Chaos" yarn and one of "Salt and Pepper" ready to wind onto the warping board (a handy way of skeining and measuring yardage). They'd had their rest period and were ready to wrap, so I set up the Lazy Kate (Lazy Cat helping more than I appreciated) and wound them off. I took a couple of pictures, and once I got them onto the computer, decided to play around with some of PaintShop Pro's distortion effects. Top right and lower left were made with the "Kaleidoscope" feature, and the other two with "Patterns." There's quite a bit of latitude in the kaleidoscopic treatment, such as number of repeats, number of petals, angle, etc. Okay, I was bored without all you little people in my computer to keep me company, but this is also productive time. Sometimes when I'm playing around with these virtual techniques, the results inspire me to create weaving or knitting patterns. The upper left looks particularly interesting if translated to card-weaving.

Tree, No; Spritz, Yes!

Day 57: With a 12-pound, 8 month old Mischief Monster in the house, I am forgoing a Christmas tree for the first time in my adult life. There was once when abject poverty meant the tree consisted of a two-foot high "skunk spruce" decorated with buttons, but every other year, I've put up a full-sized (as in "ceiling-scraper") tree. They've been artificial since I was in my 30's, torn between the ecological conundrum of whether to kill a living being or to support the plastics industry, and I have to admit it's not something I've completely resolved in my mind even now. In any event, the question is resolved this year. I do not want to spend the holidays yelling at my little babycat. It wouldn't be fair to him or to me. That said, it ain't Christmas without Spritz. I usually make them on St. Nicholas' Day (December 6), but got a bit behind and didn't bake until the following morning. My recipe is adapted from the good old red-and-white buffalo-check Better Homes and Gardens cookbook to use 1 cup butter and 1/2 cup margarine to obtain the flavour and texture I prefer, and of course they are lavishly (and I mean lavishly!) dipped in sanding sugar or topped with a candied cherry or fruit peels.

Crackle-Weave Fantasy

Day 56: The three panels of "Crackle-Weave Fantasy" (HPB green book, p. 196, #VI) are done, but as you can see from the lower picture, I still have enough warp on the roller to make at least an additional three feet of cloth. I always warp extra length just in case things don't go quite as planned. Depending on the width, any additional yardage can be used as towels, a table runner, placemats, even a cover for a throw pillow, and of course I always like to have a little piece of any new-to-me draft or fiber for my weaving files. Again, once the three panels are off the loom and stitched together, I'm considering weaving a band to use as trim around all four sides. This will require a decision, though. The reverse of this particular fabric is as attractive as the side shown. The overall look is darker. Which is the "right" side? Crackle-weave patterns often require that judgment call. The floats are short in crackle as opposed to other overshot structures, never crossing more than three or four warp threads. However, in crackle, a tabby is not always required as it is in true overshot, by virtue of the coloured weft not necessarily needing to be secured in place by a plain-weave throw. Crackle is an excellent structure to explore for newcomers to the overshot technique.

Beam Me Up, Mama!

Day 55: All I can say is that he's lucky I looked before I advanced the warp. I had just finished the plain-weave at the end of the third and last tablecloth panel and stood up to look for him because there was a deafening silence in the room. That usually means he's up to mischief. What I didn't realize was that he had been under the loom the whole time, waiting for the right moment to access what I'm sure he thought was a kitty hammock I'd made especially for him. I keep my cloth pretty tightly strung, so I didn't notice any distortion in the upper layer, and if he hadn't poked his head out when I stepped around to the crank, he might have dropped like a rock when I let the tension off. But there he was, peering out at me from between the layers of cloth, as innocent as could be, posing one last problem: how to extract him without little claws tangling in the overshot. Instead of pulling, I pushed from behind, and he was highly indignant at being expelled from his newly discovered bed.

With Merry's Gracious Permission

Day 54: This, with Merry's gracious permission, is what I have accomplished on the spinning front in the last month. Admittedly, I had part of one of the bobbins of "Green Chaos" done, but only as a singles. Here, both bobbins hold the finished double-ply yarn. It is roughly a DK weight. The "Salt and Pepper" bobbins are both single ply. They have to rest a few days to set the twist before I can ply them into a sock/fingering weight yarn. When I am done spinning all eight ounces of "Salt and Pepper," I will have three skeins (i.e., six bobbins of singles plied onto three bobbins. You may have noticed that there are two different types of bobbin here. I spin the singles on the Kromski Minstrel, and ply on my old Louët. My little Helper no longer tries to grab spinning wheel drive belts after having his nose gently sanded, but I still can't leave yarn without covering it with a lavender-scented towel. Lavender is a natural insect repellent, and it seems to work equally well as a curious-kitten deterrent. He gave it a good sniff, shook his head, batted his eyes and walked away.

One Warp, Two Interpretations

Day 53: I am still trying to figure out a weft colour which works well with this warp, haunted by those six infamous little words, "It seemed like a good idea." The draft is "A German Bird's-eye" from Marguerite Porter Davison's, "A Handweaver's Pattern Directory" (old green edition). I had this bright idea, see, that I'd use a striped warp and a single colour weft. It looked great when I worked it up with Fiberworks' drafting software, but when it came down to weaving it, something went wrong in the translation to thread. Yellow (the shade I'd picked for the weft in Fiberworks) did not bring out the stripes like I thought it would. Pale blue was no better. Dark blue (left) was okay, but I still wasn't happy with it, so I thought I'd try a darker shade of red than that I'd used in the warp. When I stood back and looked at it, I was tempted to rip it all out and go back to the blue. "Bleh!" I said. "This whole project was a mistake from the get-go." Sometimes even long-term weavers make poor choices. Fortunately, I only warped for five towels. I think I'll try green next. And just you watch...that'll be the one which works!

Wasteful Society

Day 52: I have often said to people who inquire as to why I don't sell my needlearts or write a book or hold classes that I do not have a capitalist bone in my body. In fact, I deplore the greed which has brought us to the sorry pass we currently find ourselves in, and I despise "planned obsolescence" as a ploy to get people to spend more money. Case in point: it used to be that when the plastic covers on the ear-pieces of a pair of glasses cracked, you could go down to your local optician and within minutes, they'd have shrink-fitted new ones, easy as replacing a missing screw. On occasion when I went back to the place I'd purchased the glasses, they even did so without charge. Now, when I find myself wanting to re-use these frames, I have contacted over half a dozen places including the manufacturer in the hopes of having them repaired. "Nope, sorry. We don't do that." "We don't carry that model any more." I suppose I could wrap adhesive tape around the split so that it wouldn't bloody my ear. I mean, at my age, what does it matter how I look? But that's not the point. This should be an easy fix. Instead, I am going to have to select and buy new frames, a victim of our money-hungry, throw-it-away-and-get-a-new-one system.

Scaling It Down

Day 51: Although I am working on a band on the big inkle (it needs a name, I think), Inky-Dinky Inkle was reluctant to go back on the shelf just yet, and in fact appeared to be asking for a long-term project. Why not? I'd bought two spools of green sewing thread with a band in mind, but hadn't selected a design. I'd intended to weave it on Pippin, my two-shaft "Weave Ahoy" loom (also currently empty), but Inky-Dinky fits better on my lap when Merry is otherwise engaged, so this morning, I warped with nine pattern threads, still unsettled on exactly what I wanted to weave. Browsing through Heather Torgenrud's "Norwegian Pick-up," I found this pattern and liked how the hearts were formed by the green ground threads (standard sewing thread) against the significantly heavier 10/2 gold and white. The idea of negative-space designs is not unusual in band-weaving, although it is more common to place emphasis on thicker (or doubled) pattern threads. With the full 60" of warp on the loom, I'll be here a while.

Predatory Stick

Day 50: Nobody ever told this kid that you're not supposed to expose your tender tummy to a predator. "Stick" is Merry's favourite interactive game. As soon as I have my first cup of coffee warmed up in the morning, I ask him, "Do you want to play with Stick? Let's go play with Stick!" and he responds by running into the living room and laying down beside it. "Stick's gonna getcha!" I say, and run the tip of it across the carpet. He leaps on it, grabs it with all four paws (and trust me, he can hang on as tight as any monkey) and bites on it. When I finally get it away from him, I tap it on the floor beside him. What follows is a series of writhing contortions as Stick eludes him, Merry rolling from side to side. Sometimes he comes to rest in this position. "Stick's gonna get your tummy!" I say as I lay it across his exposed underside and wiggle it back and forth. He folds up like a clam...a clam with a shiny mouthful of sharp teeth. But it's all a game, and he knows and respects the limits. When his poor old mama is worn out of playing, he happily...make that "Merrily"...goes off to see what other kinds of trouble he can get into.

Nine Pattern Threads

Day 49: In Baltic-style pickup on an inkle loom, warping is done in the usual manner with alternating threads being either heddled or unheddled, regardless of their colour. The pattern threads (white, in this case) are separated from one another by two ground threads (blue). For the sake of explanation, let's say that the first pattern thread is heddled. The two ground threads immediately following it will be unheddled and heddled respectively, and then the next pattern thread will be unheddled (i.e., opposite the first pattern thread). The warping continues across the pattern area in sequence (heddled, unheddled), meaning that because we began with pattern thread #1 being heddled, odd numbers will all be heddled, and evens will be unheddled. Since there are two possible sheds in inkle weaving, odds will be on the surface in one shed, evens in the other. Designs are created by either lifting pattern threads to the surface of their non-native shed, or pushing them down so that the weft thread passes above them, preventing them from appearing on the surface of the cloth. In this nine-thread pattern, there are a few passes where I have to do both in a single shed, i.e., lift some and suppress others. It is important to be sure that two ground threads remain between the pattern threads. If one happens to get picked up out of sequence, the result will be a twist which conceals part of the pattern thread, throwing the design out of kilter. When the weft is beaten into place, check to be sure that two ground threads appear between each pair of pattern threads, which here would appear as one white, two blues across the design area, ending with one white.