Beautiful One-Skein Knitting Patterns for Hand-Dyed Yarns

One of the most exciting things about buying yarn from small, indie dyers like SpaceCadet Creations is that each skein is hand-created and unique, dyed on its own or in a very small dyelot, and not like any other skein in the world.  But now and again, someone will look at my shop and then contact me to say that they love my colours but… what can be made with yarns from such small-batch dyelots?  What can be knit out of a single skein of yarn?

Now, there are legions of addicted sock knitters who could probably jump in with an answer that question (“Socks!”) but, in reality, there are just so many beautiful projects that can be created from just one or two skeins of hand-dyed yarn!  Let me share a few patterns that have caught my eye…

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Simple Things by Mary-Heather Cogar

© Mary-Heather Cogar, Used With Permission

This beautiful shawlette was designed to show off the colours of a of a single skein of sock yarn.  Mary-Heather chose simple stitchwork  to compliment the colours of even the most wildly variegated colourway, such as those in Sunset over a Stormy Sea, and the regular increases help reduce the chance of pooling.  The shawlette looks fantastic tucked into the top of a jacket — stylish and functional at the same time.  And I think it’s a perfect first project for anyone who is experimenting with hand-dyed yarns.

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SweaterBabe.com’s #87 One Skein Lace Fingerless Gloves

© SweaterBabe.com, Used with Permission

I fell in love with these the minute I saw them!  The lace pattern is delicate without being fussy, and the gloves look warm and lady-like at the same time.  Using just a single skein of yarn, I think this pattern would look stunning knit up in an autumn colourway.

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Dalia by Ariane Caron-Lacoste

© Ariane Caron-Lacoste, Used with Permission

This little cowl is so sweet, so perfect, that I every time I see the picture I just want to cast on for it RIGHT NOW.  It’s always at a moment when I’m busy dyeing or blogging and so I can’t cast on but… still, as soon as I see it…  I want to start it RIGHT NOW!  I love the simplicity of it, how quick it would be…  how it would be a little gift just for me.  I’m seeing it in a warm colourway such as Bramble Rose.  You know…  I really am seeing it.

In fact, I may just have to stop blogging and go cast it on.  Right now.

Dyes Mixed by Hand, From Primaries

Tucked away in the description of my yarns, right down there in the last paragraph, are these words: “Each item is individually hand-dyed by the SpaceCadet, using professional grade acid dyes which are mixed by hand from primaries”.  That last bit is really important to me — mixed by hand from primaries.  Every colour you see in my yarns and fiber has been created by hand, conjured up from only the primaries and black.  It’s both the entire reason that making hand-dyed yarns excites me so much and the source of more than a little pride for me.

I see a colour in my mind (or, more usually, several colours together) that I know I want to dye and I start dissecting them.  If it’s a purple, is it a red purple or a blue purple?  If it’s a darker shade, I gauge how much black is needed to darken it.  If it’s lighter, I work out the dye-to-water ratio it requires.  And then I calculate in the personality of the fiber — every fiber takes dye in its own unique way, so the same colours can come out wildly different.  And taking all that together, I mix up the dyes in the way that I think is going to create the colour I see in my mind, submerge the yarn, and… wait.

And the moment that I pull the yarn out again, and see whether my calculations — and my instinct — were correct, that is the most exciting moment in the whole dyeing process.  When I get it right,  I go a little wild, grabbing friends, family, any passers-by and saying, “Look! Look! this is the colour I was going for and this is what I got!

Thinking abou this the other day, I wondered if all this excitement wasn’t really a bit ridiculous…?  I mean, really, it’s just colour.  Painters do it all the time, don’t they?  And they not only mix their own colours but then go on to create something with them.  They don’t just sit there crowing over all the little puddles of colours they’ve created on their palettes!

But then I realised that, unlike painters, when I mix my dyes, I’m doing it blind.  The colours in the water are sometimes a good indication, but often not.  And besides, the insides of the dyepots aren’t white so what I see in them is always distorted anyway.  No, there’s no way to know if the colour is right until the yarn goes into the water.  Dyeing is a one-shot deal.

So when I pull the yarn or fiber out of the dyepot and it’s exactly the colour I had envisioned, it’s pretty darned exciting.  For this yarn, I imagined cornflowers, that lovely soft violet-blue that seems to be everywhere this time of year.

Merino and Silk Laceweight Yarn in Cornflowers

When I lifted the yarn out of the dyebath, I knew I’d nailed the colour.  And, yeah, I am really proud to be able to say I mixed these colours by hand from primaries.

A Little Lift for your Wednesday

Wednesdays are hard, I know.  You’re still two long days away from the weekend, and too far from last weekend to go back.  You’re stuck right there in the middle of the work week.  There’s no where to go.

This week, I’ve been attempting to create some new graphics — an ad for Ravelry, and a new banner for the blog and my shop.  It’s all part and parcel of running a small fiber arts business and, while it’s something I’m having to figure out entirely from scratch, I have to say I am really enjoying the learning.  It feels good to stretch  …most of the time.  Sometimes it seems to morph from a learning experience to an exercise in pure frustration, and I am reminded that I am a dyer, a spinner, a knitter — not a graphic artist.

And so it was this week.  I took the pictures, loaded them onto the computer, opened up the software and…  nothing.  Nothing worked the way I wanted it to, nothing would cooperate.  I couldn’t get the graphics to come out the way I’d envisioned them for love nor money   …and so I stopped, and set it all to one side and decided to tackle afresh on another day.

So today is Wednesday, and Wednesdays are hard.  And at some point today, you will come across something that isn’t working for you either, and is just driving you crazy no matter which way you go at it.  When that happens, stop.  Set it aside.  You can tackle it tomorrow, when you are feeling a little fresher.   …When it’s Thursday and you’re that bit closer to the weekend.

And in the meantime, treat yourself to a momentary mid-week pick-me-up, and have a little peek at the one thing that did go right in my little foray into self-taught graphic design: the pictures — just a wee bit fiber eye-candy, to lift your Wednesday.

The Importance of a Great Knitting Reference Book

The other day, when an unfamiliar knitting term tripped me up and I reached to my knitting books to find the answer, I realised just how important it is for every knitter to have a really great knitting reference book.   It needs to be a book that you can turn to when you’ve tried to figure things out for yourself and nothing has worked, when you’re frustrated and contemplating pulling the needles out and frogging the whole project.  It has to be a book that you trust and, most of all, one that really makes sense to you.

See if you can spot the book that's used most often...

And if it also happens to be a book that inspires you, challenges you, helps you to grow as a knitter…  Well, then, you’ve found a keeper — a book you will turn to year after year.

My (now vintage) copy of Vogue Knitting

I found exactly that book, back when I very first started knitting, and it has been my go-to knitting reference ever since.  It’s Vogue Knitting, The Ultimate Knitting Book and it’s excellent.  When I bought this book, I had been shown how to cast on and I could make knit stitches, but nothing more — and I had a real hankering to move past garter stitch!   This book taught me everything.  I started with mastering purl stitches and binding off (very exciting additions to my repertoire!), and then used it to move onto increases, decreases, cables, intarsia, stranded colourwork…   All learned on my own, just me and my trusty reference book.

The thing that I loved about this book is that the descriptions are so clear.  The pictures just made sense to me — I could see exactly what I was supposed to do for every single technique.

And it’s comprehensive.  As well as basic and advanced knitting techniques, it covers everything from the history of knitting, to the properties of different yarns, the care of knitted garments, and even the principles of knitwear design.

The Table of Contents

I tried other books as well — in fact, I began acquiring them with all the enthusiasm of, well, a new knitter — but none of them ever worked as well for me as the Vogue Knitting book.  Often the descriptions simply weren’t as clear, or the illustrations were too confusing, and always, always they simply weren’t as in depth.  Eventually I stopped collecting other reference books and realised I had found The One.

And we’ve been together for over 20 years now.  I couldn’t be happier.

Evidence of a well-loved book

So what is your favourite knitting reference book?  I’d love to know!

Essential Items for Good Spinning

What do you need for successful spinning?  What is essential to produce a gorgeous, soft, lofty yarn?  Well, you start with beautiful fiber that runs through your fingers like butter, and you spin on well-made equipment that you love and that loves you back.  But that’s not all you need…

Spinning can be done in isolation — and there’s something really lovely about the meditative aspect of spinning on one’s own — but, in my opinion, spinning is most enjoyable when it’s done in the company of other spinners. Other spinners inspire, they teach, they encourage, and — most of all — other spinners understand.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine invited to me come to her spinning group.  It was some considerable distance away and, when I realised how long the drive would be, I had second thoughts.  But I decided to go anyway, and I am so glad I did.   I met a wonderful group of women who welcomed me warmly and whose company I thoroughly enjoyed.  And they were knowledgeable — so knowledgeable, years and years of collective experience all gathered up together and shared out, happily, freely.  It was an absolute pleasure to spin with them.

If you are a new spinner or wanting to learn to spin, seek out the company of other spinners.  It will enhance your experience and your learning immensely.  It will inspire you.  And I’ve never once met a group of spinners who didn’t welcome with open arms a fellow fiber-lover!   So don’t be shy — you can find other spinners through your local yarn shop or knitting group, by looking up spinning guilds, or searching on Ravelry.

And if you happen to find one that meets in a beautiful rural setting on warm summer afternoons, cooled by shade of tall trees and a breeze scented by a garden in bloom, then you will be as lucky as I was.  There simply cannot be a better way to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon.

Dyeing Disasters and Silver Linings

When I’m dyeing, I always go into my studio with a fixed idea of the colours I’m hoping to create.  I see them in my mind and that’s what I’m aiming for as I mix up the dyes.  And most of the time, I hit pretty close to the mark.  But sometimes…  sometimes what I pull out of the dyepot is nothing like what I was expecting.

And I’m always so disappointed, because I really wanted the colours I saw in my head.  But then I realise that even though the result wasn’t what I was expecting, it’s alright, because for someone else, it will be exactly what they were looking for.

Vineyard Stain was exactly that kind of dyeing disaster.  I was aiming for something else entirely, and couldn’t believe what came out of the dyepot.  And then I looked at it and realised it was lovely, with all the complexity and depth of a beautiful red wine.  When that skein sold, I was almost disappointed to not get to keep it myself!  And, because the colour had been a complete fluke, I wasn’t really sure I could reproduce it.

But I’d kept very careful notes as I dyed it and so, when I tried to create the same colourway again, I was relieved to see that what came out of the dyepot, though slightly more intense, was most definitely Vineyard Stain.  Maybe even better the second time around.

Into The Deep, on the other hand, was a completely different type of dyeing disaster.  What came out of the dyepot actually was what I’d been visualising in my mind but, in real life, it just didn’t look good.  Not at all.  I quickly tried a few different things to remedy the situation — a little more of this dye, a quick dip in that one — and I didn’t write any of them down.  And then I realised what shade this yarn really needed to make it alright, and I mixed it up and quickly submerged the skeins.  And what came out of the pot thirty minutes later was just breathtaking!  The silver lining to my dyeing disaster.

But I hadn’t written any of it down.  And I know — to my deep regret — I will never be able to produce Into The Deep again.