Brenda Wilson

Every once in a while, a customer will walk into the shop and say “I’m looking for some inspiration.” We all know what she’s looking for: a creative spark, the desire to be excited to knit or crochet something specific. And we hope to provide that kind of inspiration with the many samples we have on display at the shop. That kind of inspiration is easy to create.

Our center display.

Lately, though, I’ve been thinking about a more intangible kind of inspiration, the kind we often get from our customers. The kind we get from sitting around the table talking. The kind that gives us the courage to take and face risks, in our knitting and in our lives.

I’m inspired by customers who continually want to learn, who are willing to tackle new techniques and learn to fix their mistakes; I am inspired by the people who sign up for our classes. And I am inspired by the people in those classes who provide encouragement to one another, who make it safe to try new things and make it safe to fail.

I’m inspired by the customer who steeked her first sweater and filmed it to post on Instagram. Check it out here:

I’m inspired by all of our customers who knit stranded colorwork sweaters for the first time this fall, and I’m particularly inspired by the customer who, after knitting the entire colorwork section – over half the sweater- frogged it and knit it over because it was too tight. (Wendy’s finished sweater fit beautifully, by the way), and I’m particularly inspired by Jan Collins who visited from West Virginia wearing a fair isle sweater that she’d designed herself.

Wendy Early in her Marshland sweater
Jan Collins in her original fair isle cardigan

Most recently, I’ve been inspired by the customer who took a knitting lesson just so she could knit an Arne and Carlos bird and then knit a dozen birds on US0 needles until she got one 4” bird that was perfect. She’s already knit a companion.

Terry’s birds and her wife RM’s dog sweater in progress

And most importantly, I’m inspired by all of our customers who persevere and knit through all of life’s challenges – the customers who come in after losing loved ones, undergoing treatment, or to get a “hospital project to knit bedside,” and I’m inspired by our customers who knit prayer shawls and blankets to comfort those they love. I’m inspired by the customer who has knit eight blankets, one for each of her grandchildren, and has two more to go.

The inspiration I find at the shop isn’t really about knitting. It’s about courage. It’s about taking risks and taking responsibility; it’s about continuing to learn, and it’s about humility. It’s about patience. It’s about love. It’s about the strength and support to be found in community.

At the Grammys last week Michelle Obama observed that “Music allows us to hear one another, to invite each other in.” I think knitting does the same thing.

Stash the Guilt…



Two facts you need to know up front:

  1. I currently own enough yarn to knit three hours a day for the next ten years and not run out; and
  2. I am the queen of rationalization.

Now that you know these things about me, you can read on.

A week or so ago, I went to the New York State Sheep and Wool Festival, otherwise known as “Rhinebeck,” for the first time. (Rhinebeck was amazing; more on that later.) Knowing I’d be tempted (to put it mildly) to buy yarn, I decided to prepare for the weekend by taking stock of my “stash.” And that got me thinking.

First, I wasn’t lying when I said that I have enough yarn to knit for ten years without running out. And it’s only somewhat organized. The most loosely organized are a few plastic bins (of different shapes and sizes) organized by weight. “Fingering” is the largest, perhaps because I knit a lot of shawls; next is “Worsted” (which also includes DK because my “system” isn’t that finely tuned…), and, then “Remnants.” Almost all of this yarn is wound into balls, having been intended at one time or another for a specific project. Now they are odd single skeins, orphans that are unpurposed and unattached to anything – a pattern, a place, a person, a memory, even other yarn. I rarely open these bins, and, when I do, I have a tough time getting excited about knitting with anything I see.

Next to these bins, however, sit transparent “stand and fill” zip-loc bags (my new favorite thing; you should check them out) whose contents I know intimately. These bags contain yarn for a (generally designated) project: a sweater quantity of a single special yarn, or a combination of yarn and/or colors to make a specific future project. They are a comforting reminder of my queue – the options I have to use yarn I love to knit projects I love when I’m ready- and every once in a while I’ll go on Ravelry to explore what I might do with the yarn in these bags.

Related to the bags on the shelf but perhaps even more special are the plastic bags of yarn that I have stored in the drawers of an old dresser. Usually in much smaller quantities, these are yarns that I’ve collected, either through my (modest) travels or from a special source (or both). I know these yarns well because I “visit” them frequently. They include (but are definitely not limited to!) (local) sheep-to-skein- yarn from my visit to Santa Rosa this past summer and six skeins of Jamieson & Smith/The Woolbrokers Heritage Naturals that my shop partners brought me back from their recent trip to Shetland.

What I realized when I looked over my yarn in preparation for my Rhinebeck trip was this: Some of my yarn is my “stash.” Some of my yarn is my “collection.”

I can imagine you rolling your eyes, thinking that the distinction is only semantic. I’m not so sure. (Although I did warn you that I’m the queen of rationalization.) A quick Google search reveals that a “stash” is “a store or supply of something, typically one that is kept hidden or secret.”* The yarn in the plastic bins is my “stash” – a “supply,” something to be used, like laundry detergent or milk (well, maybe a step up from laundry detergent and milk, but you know what I mean). And while I don’t technically keep it “hidden or secret,” I rarely look at it. When I do look at it and don’t use it, I feel like I’m wasting it. Its unused presence inspires guilt. It should have a better home. I should give it away.

I don’t feel this guilt about the yarn in the dresser. This yarn – yarn I treasure and look forward to knitting with – is different. It’s yarn I visit regularly and have in mind as I browse through patterns on Ravelry. It’s yarn that reminds me of particular places or people and, while I hope to make something with it, I don’t need to knit with it to justify its presence in my life. This yarn can be idle; it is my “collection.”

And I realized that’s really the point. As makers, we often feel guilty about buying and keeping something that is the raw material for a “made” object – yarn, fabric, buttons, ribbon, beads – the list goes on – and not using it to make something. But I think we should banish that guilt. People collect all kinds of things with no “use”: coins, cars, quilts, stamps…. If yarn brings you joy, collect it. Keep it. Treasure it. Maybe you’ll knit with it. Maybe you won’t. But don’t feel guilty about holding on to yarn that you love.

My pre-Rhinebeck “stash” visit made me realize that some of my yarn inspires guilt, but much of it brings me joy. Having made that distinction, it was easy to decide to get rid of the yarn in the plastic bins and go to Rhinebeck determined to buy only “special” yarn, which is what I did.

Here’s what I brought home:

-two skeins of aran weight Foxhole Farms Cormo (my first Cormo ever!)
-two skeins of Rosy Green Wool (which I bought after hearing all about it from Rosy’s husband, Patrick Gruban)
-two skeins of Spincycle Dyed in the Wool and a skein of Magpie Swanky Sock to makethe Salt Point Cowl (a collaboration between our friend Dami Hunter of Magpie Fibers and Spincycle Yarns),
-a skein of Spun Right Round sock yarn, and
-a humongous madder root Deluxe Trundle Bag

I have plans for some of the yarn, but not all. I will use the madder root bag every day. I have no regrets. I am thrilled to have this yarn in my “collection” and hope to knit with it all some day.

A final note: Rhinebeck was an extraordinary celebration of fiber (and its sources), fiber-arts and artists, and an inspiration in itself. The people I saw (many clad in “Rhinebeck sweaters” despite the 75 degree weather) reminded me of the sense of shared identity and community that we as knitters and fiber artists enjoy. As Rhinebeck illustrated, that community is thriving. Let’s keep Local Yarn Shops thriving as well. Visit your LYS on this year’s Small Business Saturday (November 25) and tell them how much you value their presence in your community.







Knitting Peace

I received an email last Friday from my daughter forwarding an email that she’d just received from Castaway Yarn Shop (her LYS) in Santa Rosa, California.  As you probably know, early last week, whole communities in Santa Rosa were leveled by a capricious and fast-moving wildfire.  Although Castaway’s email was in part to remind customers about Stephen West’s visit that evening (which would ordinarily be pretty exciting, right?), its emphasis was on the tragedy that had just enveloped their town.  It read in part:

We want to help how we can—through yarn donations for those who lost their homes, by being a place to come to take your mind off it all for a bit, a way to perhaps feel a bit of normalcy has returned—even if only for a few colorful moments.

Please consider donating your unused yarn, needles, hooks and felting supplies to those who lost their stash in the fires. We will be collecting and dispersing throughout the next few weeks and possibly longer. Yarn should be 50 grams per ball minimum (enough for a hat or set of gloves), and please no partially finished projects.

If you lost your home and stash, please let us know so that we can contact you with donations from our customers and vendors.

When I first read this excerpt, I thought, “lost your home and stash,”’ Really?  How could “home” and “stash” appear in the same sentence?  How could losing your stash ever feel like a loss when you’ve lost all of your other possessions?  Losing your stash would seem inconsequential, right?

But then I imagined sitting at a shelter, grateful for my safety, but without anything to do other than think about all that I’d lost.  I imagined sitting and worrying about my family and friends, and I thought about how keeping my hands busy would help, how the rhythms of knitting and the feel of yarn moving through my fingers might calm me.  I reread the email and thought about how just a few days before, sitting in our Baltimore home, concerned for our daughter’s well-being, I’d sat knitting and periodically (perhaps obsessively…) refreshing my screen for updates to the Santa Rosa fire and evacuation maps. I thought about all the times over the past 25 years that I’d knitted to stave off panic in hospital waiting rooms and all the time I’d spent knitting at the bedsides of people I loved.  And I understood why, for a knitter, needles and yarn might come right after food, water, and shelter on a list of necessities.

Knitting’s calming effect is well-established.   Its “rhythmic repetitive movements seem to [keep] us in the present moment, distracting us from mulling over the past or our fear of the future. (Should You Knit?, “Psychology Today,”  It comes as no surprise to knitters that “[knitting] can induce a relaxed state like that associated with meditation and yoga,  lowering our heart rate and blood pressure, making stress-related illnesses less likely.”   (The Health Benefits of Knitting, Jane Brody, “The New York Times”; (  It’s no wonder, then, that some of us are addicted to knitting.  We’re addicted to the sense of peace that knitting evokes.

When I think about the Santa Rosa knitters whose lives were devastated by fire, I also imagine that the color and texture of beautiful yarn might lift their spirits (a bit).  A few years ago, when my husband had a medical crisis and I’d spent a few days in an antiseptically-colored hospital room, I felt the need to knit with some happy-colored yarn.  I went to the shop, gave my knitting friends an update, and left with a renewed sense of support and a bag brimming with hot pink, orange, mango, and bright green.  The yarn brightened both my husband’s hospital room and my mood.   I used it to knit Stephen West’s Vertices Unite (below), which will forever remind me of that moment – and make me grateful for today. 

This past summer, when I visited my daughter who had just moved to Santa Rosa (she is just fine, by the way (see below), I took along my in-progress Meandering Shawl (also by Stephen West), to brighten my mood and keep my mind off of the fact that my daughter would thereafter be living 3,000 miles away.  The color combination I’d chosen, a happy spring green and a neon confetti speckle, lifted my spirits, and the brioche knitting kept my mind absorbed. The meditative wrap/slip/knit rhythm of brioche calmed me. Feeling the cushy brioche fabric in my hands and lap brought me comfort.  That project is finished now, and it still makes me happy to see and touch it, although I’m still adjusting to my daughter living so far away.

It will come as no surprise that on that same visit, my daughter, also a knitter, and I spent an hour or so at Castaway.  It’s a shop flooded with natural light and yarn whose centerpiece is a seating area that invites customers to settle in, flip through magazines and pattern books, and knit.  The shop (and its post-fire email) remind me of the sense of community – and support – that knitting gives us.  When I’d gone to my LYS to buy that brightly colored yarn a few years back, I’d also wanted to escape, if just for a short time, the bubble that crisis creates, experience the therapeutic effect of seeing my knitting friends, and find pleasure in seeing and touching yarn.  Local yarn shops are our havens. As Castaway’s email suggests, they’re where we go to “find normalcy” when we face challenges and, at their best, they’re where we go to find community, friendship, and support.

Long before the fires in Santa Rosa and Castaway’s email, I’d been thinking of writing about the benefits of knitting.  I’d compiled a mental list (messy and overlapping) of the gifts that knitting gives us.  At its most basic, knitting gives us the opportunity to create.  It gives us a sense of pride in our finished objects and a feeling of satisfaction when somebody appreciates a knitted gift.  Knitting strengthens our character.  It teaches us patience and perseverance. It offers us opportunities to learn and maybe even keeps us a little sharper as we age.  As knitters, we are never idle. Our hands are always busy.

Reading Castaway’s email, however, made me realize that knitting’s greatest gift is that, like yoga and meditation, it can bring us, at least temporarily, a sense of peace. I know that I speak for all of us when I express the hope that knitters affected by the California wildfires – and knitters everywhere facing moments of crisis and challenge – are able to find a few minutes of knitting peace.  Our thoughts are with you.






A Grand Shetland Adventure Indeed

There’s nothing unusual about two friends going on a knitting trip to a beautiful place with other like minded people.  What is unusual is that we came back…Here’s a glimpse of our Grand Shetland Adventure.  (Each photo is linked for more information except for the first one…that’s my Gram)

First of all, Scotland is in my blood. My maternal grandmother was born in Edinburgh in 1904 and I have always wanted to go. My mom told us stories growing up of her uncles coming to the states with their thick Scottish accents and the picture of my grandma as a three year old in her linen dress and leather shoes has always made me wonder about the trans Atlantic journey she took to get here. As a knitter, Scotland holds so much wonderful fiber history, from sheep to the wool industry and Fair Isle technique.  The rich landscape and good people who sustain those things are still going strong today and I wanted to see it.

One day last summer our friend and customer Susan Coe had just returned from the trip and went on and on about how we “must” go.  At that point we decided to sign up as soon as the 2017 dates were announced. Luckily, we were able to secure the last two spots last October and put it on the calendar.

We flew into Edinburgh on July 6th and enjoyed two days exploring the city on foot before leaving for Shetland on a small plane to start our adventure.

The trip is led by Gudrun Johnston and Mary Jane Mucklestone, two wonderful knitwear designers  who are intimately familiar with Shetland. Gudrun (The Shetland Trader) is from Scotland and lived on Shetland for a time as a child.  Her father still lives there today.   Mary Jane is a Fair Isle knitting expert and has authored many Fair Isle motif books in addition to her design work.  Several years ago Mary Jane and Gudrun bundled their talents and enthusiasm for Shetland and developed a trip with a week of activities for knitters and fiber enthusiasts. The trip includes travel  to wool mills, sheep farms, museums, and artists’ studios all over the island.  There’s time for a little shopping too…

When we weren’t traveling to our daily activities, we were back at Burrastow Guest House, having special order breakfasts at 8am and 3-course gourmet meals at 7:30pm. Pierre and Han, our chef and his assistant made sure every need was met.  We gathered in the Conservatory each day to talk, knit and learn.  Shetland ponies grazed in the next pasture.

We were treated to guest speakers Hazel Tindall, Elizabeth Johnston and Ella Gordon before dinner on two of the nights and took a fair isle class with Mary Jane. We went to the studio of Mike Finnie, a jeweler and artist to make silver buttons with fair isle motifs in a 3 hour class. Another day we spent an afternoon with knitwear designer Nielanell learning how to dye sock blanks.

When we weren’t touring, we were hiking! To Muckle Roe, Eshaness and the cliffs near Minn Beach in Burra. All of this occurred in the most ideal weather conditions – a fact no one really believed as it was happening. Shetland is known for rainy and chilly summers and we had bright sunshine, cool breezes and the most perfect days. There is daylight in Shetland for nearly 18 hours during “Simmer Dim”, giving it an almost magical feel in July.

Karen and I marvel at our good fortune to have had this experience. We are not only avid knitters and business partners, but great friends. Packing a bag and setting out on this adventure was everything we could have hoped for and more. The company we kept was a gathering of 13 people from all over the world with one thing in common: a love of knitting. Few of us knew more than one other person on the trip and making those new relationships was one of the many enduring positives we will hold on to. We are so grateful to Gudrun and Mary Jane for making our week what it was. Their knowledge, good company and most of all their relationships with the people of Shetland, made the 10th Grand Shetland Adventure a trip of a lifetime. Signs above departure gates at the Edinburgh Airport read “Haste ye back”.  We can’t wait.


































The Pleasures of Vacation Knitting

Last Friday, on the brink of Memorial Day weekend, a young woman walked into the shop, looked up from her phone and said “I need 950 yards of DK weight yarn that comes in balls.” Puzzled by her “comes in balls” requirement (we have a winder), but sensing that she was in a hurry, I walked her over to the yarn that fit her specifications. In short order, she showed me the pattern on her phone, confirmed that the yarn would work, and said “now I need needles.” She grabbed two sets of needles and a package of markers and walked to the counter, glancing repeatedly at her watch. As I rang up her purchases, I made small talk. “Are you going somewhere for the long weekend?” “Yes,” she replied, “I’m on my way to the airport. I have a flight to catch in a little over an hour. And I just realized that I forgot my knitting.” “Ah,” I thought to myself, “that explains her ‘comes in balls’ requirement. I placed her yarn, needles, and notions into the bag and wished her a wonderful weekend.

For me – and clearly for that young woman – vacations and knitting are inseparable companions. Everyday knitting almost always comes with a tinge of guilt. I think about how I should be taking the dogs for a walk, writing an overdue note to a friend, or cleaning out my closet. But when I’m on vacation, I leave the “shoulds” behind; I become a hedonist and indulge my desire to knit.

A quick look at Instagram posts with the hashtag “places you can knit” (my last count is 9,648) confirms that I’m not alone. Knitters knit in mountains, forests, and canyons; we knit on beaches, museums, boats, overlooks, and trains, and we knit in front of waterfalls, landmarks, and campfires. For this sampling of nearly 10,000 knitters (and me), knitting and vacation go hand in hand.

The pleasure I get from vacation knitting begins with planning my “vacation project”. When I was a teacher, faced with piles of end-of-the-year papers and exams to grade, I’d carve out time to plan and buy yarn for my “summer vacation project,” and the thought of that project sweetened my anticipation of the school-year’s end.

The pleasure I get from vacation knitting also stems from its therapeutic effect. When I’m fortunate enough to take a vacation that involves flying, I take a complicated project because it occupies not only the travel time, but also my mind. I’m a nervous flyer, and there’s nothing like a charted lace pattern to supplant the “what ifs” in my mind. And what starts out as an antidote to my anxiety grows into a wonderful memento of my trip. I will always associate Stonecrop by Jared Flood (which I knit in Anzula Squishy), with a vacation five years ago, when my husband and I traveled to Italy in celebration of our 25th anniversary:






The pleasure I get from vacation knitting often comes from the serenity to be found in knitting someplace peaceful. We go to the beach each summer, and my favorite part of our small rental house is its screened-in porch. I’ve claimed a white wicker rocker on that porch as “mine,” and I sit in it mornings and late afternoons and knit. I watch the pine trees sway in the breeze, listen to the birds, breathe in the sea air, and am soothed by the rhythm of my needles. I savor the peacefulness of the moment. When I knit at home, I’m up and down, checking on dinner, switching laundry, or letting the dogs in or out. I find it difficult to ignore the temptation of the television. But at the beach, where the days seem to have more hours, those distractions fade, and I knit in peace. Often, that peacefulness allows me to knit something a little challenging. Here’s last summer’s project, Piccadilly , by Justyna Lorkowska for Loop London (in Claudia Hand Painted Yarns Addiction):






Short or long, a vacation is a privilege; it means we’re in a position to take a break from our daily routine, do something that nourishes us, and return to our everyday lives refueled. I’m about a week away from this year’s beach vacation and am thinking about the knitting I’ll take along. I’m embarrassed to say that, right now, I have four projects on my needles :Starting Point  the Joji Locatelli MKAL,  Meandering Shawl a lovely Stephen West pattern knit in brioche,  Spots & Stripes Fingerless Gloves, cute two color mitts from Churchmouse Yarns and Teas, and the Regen Shawl , a beautiful mid-size shawl by Shannon Cook in the most recent “Making Magazine.” I adore all four – and I will probably take all four along. So in a couple of weeks, you can picture me walking in from the beach, sand still between my toes, and sitting down in that white wicker rocker to knit. And I’ll be thinking of all the places knitters knit and wondering about you. Will you be lacing up your hiking shoes or exploring a foreign city, or will you be spreading out your beach towel like me? In what places will you knit this summer? What will you be knitting? We’d love to know. Let us know where you’re going and what you’re knitting. Send us a photo so that we can all “take a vacation” together.

Coming Full Circle

I’ve been fortunate enough to have had careers as an attorney, a stay at home mom, and a high school English teacher.  Throughout each, the pleasure I’ve found in writing, conversation, and knitting have remained constant.  Now that I have the privilege of owning a yarn shop along with two wonderful partners, I’m going to indulge those interests by writing this blog, which I hope will foster a sense of community and spark conversation.  You – and your comments – are an essential ingredient in its success.  Please take a few minutes to share your stories and thoughts.   -Brenda

A few weeks ago my husband (a real estate lawyer) and I were driving down a commercial street lined with “For Lease” signs, and he commented on the fact that the internet is really killing “bricks and mortar” businesses.  Of course, when he said this I cringed, immediately thinking of our small knit shop, not because I’m now an owner, but because of all that would be lost if our “bricks and mortar” business – and small local businesses generally – don’t survive this internet age.  I thought of how easy it is to buy yarn online and watch Youtube videos demonstrating new techniques, and I wondered about our small shop’s future.  I thought of how creative we’d need to be to survive in this internet age.  But I also thought of all the knit shop offers that the internet doesn’t.

Twenty-five years ago, when I first walked into the shop and told the women sitting at the table (If you’re a long-time Baltimore knitter, you’ll know it was probably Doris, Rochelle, Susie, and/or Lou) that I’d tried knitting in high school, hadn’t gotten very far, and wanted to try and knit a scarf.  They replied in a chorus: “Oh you don’t need to start with a  scarf.  If you can knit and purl, you can knit a sweater.”  They assured me that they’d give me whatever support I needed and, since I could start with a toddler-sized sweater (I had a 2-year-old daughter and a year-old son), I decided to give it a go.

Neither of my children ever wore that first sweater, a chunky red cardigan with tube-like arms sticking out at right angles.  But the women in the shop, who had supported me every step of the way, encouraged me to keep going, and soon I was knitting sweaters for my children that I was proud to share.  Here’s my all-time favorite:

Since that time, I’ve found much more than yarn and patterns at the knit shop.  I’ve found practical help that enabled me to try increasingly difficult patterns and techniques.  I’ve found inspiration for new projects.  I’ve found someone to help me think through cryptic instructions, and, when I’ve been uncertain about my color choice or gauge, I’ve found expert advice.  I’ve found knitters who commiserate with me as I rip out my work, people to “ooh and aah” over my finished projects, and folks who make me feel less guilty about the size of my yarn stash.  And, finally, I’ve found things that can’t be precisely labelled or measured; I’ve found conversation, friendship, and a sense of community.  When life has seemed challenging, I’ve always known that I can pull a chair up to the yarn shop table and find the therapy I’ve needed, whether it’s a sympathetic ear or just some good knitting chatter.  At the knit shop, I’ve found time out from the periodic craziness of everyday life.

I know it’s a cliche, but many mornings when I slip my key into the shop door I need to remind myself that I’m not dreaming, that it’s a day in which I’ll have the opportunity to work side by side not only with extraordinary partners and staff, but also with customers as they contemplate colors and patterns, correct their mistakes, or figure out a set of instructions.  I’ll watch customers squeeze skeins and run the yarn between their fingers, imagining how it might be to knit or wear.  I’ll see someone hold a skein up to her cheek to see how it feels and arrange and rearrange skeins of yarn on the table to find the perfect color combination.  I’ll laugh together with like-minded knitters as we play “true confessions” about our stashes and unfinished projects, and on a really good day, someone will come in to share a beautiful finished object.

Since walking into the shop over 25 years ago as a new knitter I’ve come full circle, and while the internet has emerged as a challenging force, the essence of our small shop – much more than “bricks and mortar” – endures.



Fair Isle Friday

2014-10-25 10.15.35

There’s a lot to be said for fair isle, that lovely stranded color work technique that produces shock and awe responses in the uninitiated.  Even intermediate knitters who have not tried fair isle can be intimidated by its polished and impressive look.  While it looks daunting, it’s not as tricky as it seems.

In traditional fair isle, only two colors are used per row, with additional colors added or alternated in subsequent rows of a fair isle pattern. The other saving grace of many fair isle knit pieces is that they are done completely in the round, as in a yoke of a pullover or a hat.  Circular fair isle utilizes only knit rows, making the alternating of colors much more accessible and easy.  Fair isle knit back and forth requires knit and purl rows and, believe me, it’s just not as fun.

The truly hardcore fair isle knit is the one that is “steeked” to make a cardigan or armhole openings in a top-down knit sweater.  This endeavor is for the knitter with a sewing machine, scissors and no fear!  Steeking lets you knit every round of a fair isle motif, but allows for extra stitches within the body of the piece at the front where the cardigan will open.  Generally these extra stitches are not patterned and are reinforced with vertical lines of machine sewn seams after the knitting is complete.  The machine stitching on either side of the extra stitches locks the knitting on either side and allows you to CUT through the middle of the extra stitches.  Once this leap of faith has occurred, raw stitches are picked up on either side to knit cardigan bands.

In the end, the beauty is obvious.  Fair Isle and steeking aren’t for everyone, but Karen Brehm makes it look easy. Here is the progression of Karen’s baby sweater from Dale Booklet 142, Design 6 using Canopy Fingering from the Fibre Company.  Sleeves were knit first on dpns, then body from the bottom up.  Sleeves and body are then joined when it’s time to knit the color work yoke.  In this piece, the picked up button and buttonhole bands fold over to the inside to provide a completely finished look.  Bravo KB!!!

2014-10-16 12.12.34-1 2014-10-24 09.02.18 2014-10-25 10.15.02 2014-11-12 16.42.07 2014-11-12 16.42.00

Knitting for Baby



When my children were little, I didn’t knit.  Now that I do knit and have unlimited access to all the best there is, knitting for babies is my very favorite thing.  Knitting for little ones has everything going for it…the projects are small, which makes them easy to finish. The patterns are irresistible, which makes you NEED to make them.  The yarns are beautiful and soft.  Nothing makes a knitter happier than to knit with a particular baby in mind or for one who is on the way.  I know more than a few knitters who are making things ahead for prospective grandchildren or gifts.  It’s not for everyone, but it is for those of us wanting to knit while we have the mind and hands for it.  Don’t laugh…knitters think this way!




At Woolworks, we take knitting for wee ones seriously and have a room in our very small space dedicated just to kids and babies.  It provides a bright and inspirational atmosphere for moms, grandmas, aunts, uncles and just about anyone who needs a fix of cuteness.  Our kids room is chock full of store samples and yarns to make anything from the most simple hat to a complicated fair isle sweater or knit toy.

photo 4-2










Imagine my delight when my nephew asked for a knit baby dress for his little girl, Tatum’s baptism.  Despite feeling honored to be asked, I was slightly panicked since the deadline was less than a month away.  I ran the idea of the ‘Clara Dress’ from Tutto by my nephew & niece and was off and running.  I had made Clara before and knew I could make it again.  The parents measured little Tatum and I knit like the crazy great-aunt that I am.

2014-09-25 13.35.20






The dress moved along and I was able to ship it with a few days to spare.  The day Tatum’s mommy, Rachel, sent me the dress rehearsal picture, I felt like I’d won the lottery.  A beautiful baby in a most special knit dress, all ready to go.   A few days later, Tatum was baptized with family and friends around her.  I wasn’t there for the ceremony, but I feel like the dress was there, acting like a big hug from me.

2014-10-08 07.58.56




Project Profile: Funky Grandpa

zauberballcrazy2204 zauberballcrazy2248 crazy1660






This week we received a shipment of Zauberball Crazy in from Schoppel and it brings to mind a project that we have always wanted to try.  Funky Grandpa by La Maison Rilile is a boxy, deep v-neck cardigan with a top-down, almost-all-in-one piece construction that is fascinating.





Funky Grandpa is not a new design, but it is very much a timeless one.  It’s not trendy or high fashion.  In fact, what makes Funky Grandpa so appealing (beyond the name), is the fact that any body type can wear it.  The wide range of sizes and customizable shaping make it accessible to everyone.  This design’s fashion comes from its retro style.  Our Grandpas wore the basic shape, as did Mr. Rogers.  What sweater loving person can’t relate to either of those guys? spring_cardigan__socks___stuff-53_medium2 Zauberball Crazy is a fingering weight yarn that has fairly long color runs that gradiate, but also change between tweedy and solid within those sections.  Funky Grandpa uses Zauberball Crazy to jazz up solid fingering weight sections every so often, making you look like a brilliant colorist.
t234_00adf5d3ca25bac30e1d7d4a25dc2e51 4745b03bd4d638bc20e95a414711d5d6 748ee2c09b4e505108bf2c7efd3b266f 4d254628f7108f9058df616d1db45eae t234_6e4ea2a0dffbb70932045929edd65315 t234_17ba18c2815e4748fcdd7e2d6c5f750b t234_018bb262957a289c0c43a0a76982298d t234_64ca780ca9f1576f75fd549939e34f89 t234_90fc1214936dc18b034c7b21bc0d36f8 t234_55209e95784fdb28fa4ebcfa4d2d15ef t234_cc547135f37a27e2d12d7dc5e8774084 t234_d036a9c48f789abbcc85567debbc7cb4To set the Zauberball Crazy off we like Claudia Handpainted Yarns newly renamed semi-solid fingering “Addiction” and have many choices in stock that mesh beautifully.  Other fingering choices would be Malabrigo Sock, Dream in Color Smooshy or even a more luxurious choice like Rowan Finest or Canopy Fingering from the Fibre Company.  The options are many and the choices all good.

We’re going to give it a try. Stay tuned.  Or come on in and try it with us.  Everyone should have a Funky Grandpa.

Project Profile: “Stole” by Theresa Gaffey


Every once and awhile we get a project going at the shop that takes off with a lot of customers.  In this case, a customer brought this pattern and book to our attention (Thank you, Brenda Wilson!) and it grew from there.  The book Wearwithall: Knits For Your Life is a compilation of patterns by various designers and spans the range from kids to adults to home goods.


Wear With AllOne factor that is a common thread in popular shop projects is their accessibility for a wide range of knitters.  The skills needed here are pretty basic: the ability to knit and purl with gorgeous yarns.  The most important skill with this project turns out to be PATIENCE, with a side order of stick-to-it-tiveness!  “Stole”, by Theresa Gaffey is a lot of stitches in a basic rib pattern, using 9 different colors.  The yarn used for this project is the gorgeous Isager Alpaca 2, a 50/50 blend of alpaca and merino.  The color palette of Alpaca 2 is glorious, with many options when choosing for a project of this type.








An excerpt from the Wearwithall blog gives a description of designer Theresa Gaffey’s style and knitting sensibility:

“Knitting and crocheting are my equivalent of worry beads – a way to focus my mind while keeping my hands busy.  My life is often overly complicated, so in my designs, I gravitate toward elegant simplicity – say, a simple rib contrasted with stripes of gorgeous colors – a project that is easy to knit, but satisfying.  And I’m always working on something.  When I’m lucky, my passion for yarn and my editing career overlap, as it did with Wearwithall.”

Customers making this project have the full range of Isager Alpaca 2 to choose from.  Once the job of casting on a zillion stitches is done, the meditative ribbing begins.  Changing colors is a highlight and watching the piece emerge spurs you on.  While the knitting of a piece like “Stole” can be tedious, the finished object yields incredible results.  Kim models Barbara Steinhart’s freshly blocked version below.  Elegant indeed.


When Brenda, Susie Bank, Amy Gold, Suzanne Dagurt and the many others finish their “worry-bead” project, we’ll be sure to post pictures!

Check out “Stole” by Theresa Gaffey on Ravelry:













Next Page »