A problematic set

Some designs seem to cluster together but aren’t really sets at all, more of a process where one design suggests another and so on. It all started with a design using thistles. Thistles mean Scotland. Or Eeyore, if you’re a Winnie the Pooh fan, but I thought something Scottish would probably sound better. So I named it Scotland the Brave.

Scotland the Brave

Then some time later I came across a discussion (either online or in an old stitching magazine, I can’t remember) about the difficulty of representing anything five or six-sided in counted thread work, a medium that is intrinsically based on squares, or at least on a fabric that does right angles naturally, and 45-degree angles with some persuasion, but struggles with anything else. Hardanger is, by its very nature, quite square. What a challenge! Could you create, say, a five-petalled flower in Hardanger? Like a Tudor rose, perhaps? After much charting, re-charting, and re-re-charting, I decided you couldn’t, and Tudor saw the light of day in a four/eight-petalled variety.

Tudor

If I’d had any foresight, I would have made it the same size as Scotland the Brave, realising that I had a series in the making, and the Tudor rose could represent England. A little more foresight yet, and I would have called it Merrie England.

By the time I was jotting down ideas for a clover-based design, the idea of a set had finally suggested itself. Clover, Ireland … Luck of the Irish joined the other two. It had the same basic outline as Tudor, and the same size. I was on to something!

Luck of the Irish

Have I mentioned that I like things that come in fours? And the fourth in this set would, of course, be Wales. Somehow I can’t quite envisage a leek-based design, but daffodils offer definite scope; and if I give it the same basic shape and size as the thistle design, that would even things out nicely. And then I’d have a UK set – a nice tribute to the country which I now call home. Tudor could be renamed, and the daffodil design could be called Land of My Fathers or possibly Eisteddfod (or if I was feeling really silly, Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch).

There are, however, one or two problems with this whole UK idea. For one thing, can Luck of the Irish stand for Northern Ireland rather than the Republic? And more seriously, will Scotland stay in the Union long enough for me to complete the set! Do I want people to think I am making a political statement in Hardanger? Probably safer to call this hypothetical collection the British Isles set. Watch this space to see whether leek and daffodil manage to inspire me any time soon!

The birth of sets and series

Some designs are easily recognisable as sets (or series; I’m not quite sure what the difference is, if any). They don’t need similar names, or a group name, to show that they go together. Like the four Floral Tiles, Pansies, Holly, Forget-Me-Not and Tulips. They all have a Rhodes stitch border, satin stitch floral motifs (or vegetation, in the case of Holly), beads and speciality stitches within Kloster blocks, and beaded square filets in single cut squares. Likewise the twelve designs in Round Dozen simply shout their kinship from the rooftops, with their recognisable pattern of a cutwork diamond within a surface stitch diamond within a square. But oddly enough, neither of them were originally planned as a series – or in the case of Round Dozen, as such a large series.

A little over a year ago I was looking at some online shade cards, and my eye fell on a lilac-and-yellow variegated silk. At about the same time, I was toying with the idea of satin stitch pansies. I wanted to make satin stitch a main feature of the design, and to have quite a few Kloster blocks but minimal cutting; I also wanted quite strong lines, probably diagonal, and a border of some sort using the variegated thread I’d seen; and beads. So Pansies was born.

As it was December, Christmas was all around. Why not do a seasonal design in the same style? the carol suggested Holly & Ivy, but I didn’t really like the idea of ivy and so holly got paired with mistletoe. Then I started thinking of other flowers with simple and recognisable shapes, and came up with forget-me-nots. Designing it in the same sort of style as the other two seemed only logical.

Now I happen to like sets of four, so I started looking around for a fourth floral design. My Dutch background led almost inevitably to tulips, and as they are quite bold, striking flowers I felt they’d do well within this sort of design. And so the set was complete; and only then did I decide to give them a collective name – Floral Tiles.

Pansies Holly Forget Me Not Tulips

Remember I said I like sets of four? I’d been doodling and scribbling some ideas for a set of four small designs, possibly for coasters. I wanted them all to have the same basic framework, but to play around with bars, filling stitches and speciality stitches; they were also to use very few colours, preferably white and one other colour. And as they were going to be fairly abstract, the names could be pretty much anything. Well, when thinking of sets of four, the seasons are quite an obvious choice. So I called them "Seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter", choosing the colour in each of them to tie in with that particular season. But I had a few doodles left that hadn’t got used. It seemed a shame to waste them. Could I get four designs out of those ideas? I could; and so I needed another set of four names. The points of the compass sprang to mind, and in fact this set of four started life being called "Compass: North, East, South and West".

Meanwhile I’d also charted two designs along the same lines which didn’t quite fit in with the Season and Compass designs. They used different stitches for the diamond shape. The outer square varied in outline but not in stitches. And there were only two. Surely I could think up another two to go with them? I could, and I did. But what to call them? Remembering an educational programme we used to watch at primary school, I thought of Earth, Water, Wind & Fire, but found that since my school days these had taken on distinct overtones of Wicca and paganism, and as a committed Christian I felt I could not use them. But there was another quartet which I remembered being used to name a set of musical compositions – Morning, Noon, Evening & Night, which seemed to fit the bill perfectly.

Now here is where it all becomes a bit muddy, and I can’t quite remember which change of name led to which, but I realised that having started out with a set of four designs, I know had a round dozen of them. That sounded rather good, so I called the "set of sets" Round Dozen. Now wouldn’t it be neat and tidy to give the subsets Round names as well? Based on the individual names, that idea led to Round the Year, Round the World, and Round the Clock – and those names seemed so appropriate that they stuck.

Round Dozen

A door hanger for Isobel, material packs and a stitcher’s matchbook

Jubilations and celebrations!

We visited my husband’s parents over the weekend, and as planned I took all the materials for the door hanger tuck cushion with me – remembering at the very last moment to grab the instructions. My mother-in-law held my hand (metaphorically speaking) while I got over my Fear Of Sewing Machines and got to grips with the basic stitches, practised on a towel that was beyond redemption anyway. I am now, not exactly proficient, but at least capable of sewing together a passable tuck cushion/door hanger. I even remembered to sew in the ribbon!

The final touches were added this morning: the back half of the tuck cushion was stuffed and the seam closed with ladder stitch, and after admiring it at some length I have now put it away in a drawer until we visit the family next month.

Alphabet door hanger

Apart from the door hanger there was another job to finish this morning. I’m teaching a "Hardanger for Absolute Beginners" day course at the local adult education centre this Saturday, and I’ve been putting together the material packs for it. I always get caught out by how much time that takes! First working out what is needed, then ordering all the supplies (with the occasional treat for me – only to make the best use of the postage, of course …), cutting the fabric and threads to size and putting it all together. For this class that involved eight packs each containing 5 pieces of fabric with the creases ironed out, 26 lengths of thread, a hoop, 2 gold-plated needles, ribbon, 2 gift tags, an aperture card, a piece of felt and a piece of patterned cardstock cut to size and pre-scored in two places (I’m tempted to add "and a partridge in a pear tree"; perhaps if I ever teach a Christmas-themed class). But here we are with several days to go and they’re all done; the sense of achievement is immense!

Course material pack Course material packs

And finally a little experiment. Someone on the Cross Stitch Forum posted a link to a tutorial on the Make it Do site for a quick needle keep which works like one of those old-fashioned matchbooks. A great idea, and the use of pretty cardstock makes it a very attractive little accessory. But perhaps they’d missed a trick … what is the first thing that comes to a stitcher’s mind when she sees a blank surface? That’s right, put some stitching on it! So I cut the card slightly larger, scored and folded it so that the pattern was on the inside, and stuck a small piece of Hardanger to the outside. Voilà, one stitcher’s matchbook!

Matchbook needlecase Matchbook needlecase

A sneak preview – spicy Bargello

Bargello, also known as Florentine work, is a technique in which patterns are created by means of shifting satin stitches of equal length – imagine a long horizontal row of vertical satin stitches of equal height, and then imagine some stitches being a little higher and others a little lower, forming a pattern of peaks and troughs, or hills and valleys if you prefer. It’s a very pretty effect, and can be beautifully curvaceous. As such it makes an interesting partner to the angular outlines of Hardanger, something I’ve been exploring in Spice Islands. I haven’t finished stitching the piece yet, but I’m so pleased with the way the Florentine part is shaping up that I thought I’d give you a small preview (click on the picture for a larger version).

Spice Islands

Don’t you just want to run your fingers along it? One of the joys of working with perle cottons and other textured threads, especially when you combine it with textured stitches like Rhodes or Pekinese, is that it makes your stitching so tactile! (And if people give you funny looks when they find you stroking your threads just tell them it’s good against stress and lowers your blood pressure – a bit like having a pet.)

From theme or technique to name

Some of the least transparent names, at first sight, are probably Lviv, Orpheus and Odessa (the last two as yet unstitched). Two of the three become clear immediately when you realise that the techniques used in the designs were inspired by Ukrainian whitework – Lviv and Odessa are cities in Ukraine. But where does Orpheus come into it?

Lviv

Well, some years ago my husband and I saw a programme about the 2006 International Church Music Festival. Choirs from around the world (mostly Britain and America, but also South Africa, Slovenia and many other countries) came together to sing God’s praise. One group of eight men singing close harmony was our absolute favourite; the sound they produced was just incredible! We then found that the next ICMF would be in 2008, and practically next door to us. We both love singing, so we signed up, and that group of eight men was there as well. We went to several church services and concerts where they sang; on one occasion one of the baritones sang a romantic solo and chose me to waltz round the church with. Quite an experience!

And what does this have to do with a stitching design? They are from Ukraine, and their group’s name is Orpheus. Simples!

Of the two designs Berrington Hall (I) and Berrington Hall (II), one is an impostor. My husband and I visited Berrington Hall, a National Trust property, and admired (among many other things) the beautiful Georgian ceilings. When we got home, he suggested that I could base one or more designs on them. I chose two colour combinations which remind me particularly of Georgian interiors, pale blue/white/gold and sage green/cream/gold, and having looked at a great many pictures of Georgian ceilings, sketched the basic outlines for two designs. It wasn’t until I’d charted them both and decided to call them both Berrington Hall that I realised the first one was actually nothing like any of the ceilings in the real Berrington Hall. I’d got rather fond of the name, though. And the style was still very much the same as the Berrington ceilings. And so far no-one has written to me in a high dudgeon (lovely word) to complain about it. So Berrington Hall they both remain.

Berrington 1 Berrington 2

How a Walled Garden grows

I could also have called today’s post "From shape to name to colour", because that is very much how Walled Garden, my latest design, came into being. It all started out with a shape that kept coming to my mind – as it happened a most unsuitable shape for Hardanger, being one of those diamonds with their sides pushed in, all steeply sloping lines:

Walled Garden Mono

So I started a new canvas, put in some grey Kloster blocks and started pushing them around to see if I could create anything like that. I couldn’t, of course; the shape is just impossible to create in Kloster blocks unless you make it huge and look at it from several metres’ distance. But I managed to get a shape that I found pleasing, and which did have the four points and indented sides. I experimented a bit with which bits would be cut and which wouldn’t, what the filling stitches would be, and what sort of satin stitch shapes I’d use to embellish it. The first shapes I drew, inside the Kloster blocks, were a bit like leaves (tulip leaves perhaps?) and that suggested flowers, so flower shapes with rounded petals followed, plus some ribbony bits. I thought of adding more of the same flowers, but as I was drawing some basic Hardanger satin stitch shapes, the ones that make up a star, I noticed that if you use four in a sort of windmill pattern, they look vaguely like periwinkle flowers. Very vagueley, as they lack a petal, but close enough. Finally a border of Pekinese stitch, a bit like a fence, and I had a monochrome (well, light and dark grey) design with a strong Kloster block frame and several floral shapes. To save this version of the chart I needed a name, and it looked rather like walls and flowers, so I called it Walled Garden.

Walled Garden Mono

But a grey walled garden isn’t much fun. What if I made the "walls" brown? Preferably shaded brown, not solid … a Caron shade perhaps, like one of the two browns in Vienna … and greens of course for the leaf and ribbon shapes, and brown and green for the Pekinese "fence" … red and blue or pink and blue for the flowers; blue for the periwinkle shape of course, pink for the rounder flowers … not quite there yet; what about some yellow? The French knots and some of the filling stitches, and perhaps the centre of the periwinkles. Not botanically correct, but then it’s not a textbook … filling stitches – two colours in every cut area, like flower beds … and that was the chart done.

Walled Garden

Now for the colours. Nothing solid, but not too variegated either. Shaded colours. The dark brown from Vienna, the pink from Cross My Heart … or perhaps the red … a light blue or a dark … and what greens does Caron do? I haven’t decided on all of them yet, but that’s the next step, and a very enjoyable one so I may take some time over it!

A failure and two successes

My husband tells me I am a wimp. I’m afraid he has a point.

Yesterday I was definitely and finally going to tackle the sewing machine to make up Isobel’s door hanger. But somehow I kept finding other things that urgently needed to be done first – and exactly the same thing had happened the week before. It’s remarkable how many urgent things you can find to do when you really want to.

Halfway through the afternoon I gave in and admitted openly that I felt terribly nervous about the sewing machine and didn’t really want to do it at all. This is where the wimp comment came in. In the end we decided that it would be a marvellous idea to take all the materials with me when we go to see his parents in a few weeks, and ask my mother-in-law, who is an extremely good seamstress, to hold my hand while making up the door hanger. I breathed a sigh of relief and carried on working on my other two planned finishes, the biscornu made from the two versions of Shades, and the pen holder. I won’t say too much about the biscornu, as instructions for making one can be found all over the internet. The only change I made to the usual pattern is that I didn’t indent the centre with beads or buttons; I thought it had plenty of beads already, and rather liked its plump shape (you can see larger pictures in the Gallery).

Shades made into a biscornu Shades made into a biscornu

The pen holder is, as far as I know, my own idea, and just in case you think it’s the perfect thing to do with all those smallish pieces of stitching you’ve got lying around, here’s how to do it.

First of all, decide how large you want your pen holder to be. I based mine on a section of kitchen roll tube, and looking back I think I would have preferred something slightly wider, but if you don’t need to keep too many pens and pencils in it, it’ll do just fine. Measuring my present pen holder, I decided on 12cm for its height. I cut the cardboard tube to about 13.5cm, then made 1.5cm cuts at one end, about 1cm apart, and folded those in. I put double sided tape on them, and then stuck a cardboard circle to them to make the bottom. That’s the basic framework of your pen holder done!

At which point do you decide which piece of stitching to use? Well, it all sort of happens at the same time; if you are absolutely sure of the piece you want to use, then that will dictate the size of the pen holder. On the other hand, if you want the pen holder to be a particular size, you’ll have to find a piece of stitching to match. Fortunately there is some leeway, as you will see. I decided to use Douglas.

Douglas

I had chosen to make my pen holder 12cm high, and its circumference was 16.5cm. Now, because I picked a piece of Hardanger it meant that the cardboard would show through the cut areas, so it would have to be painted or covered. I thought felt would look best, and because Douglas looks rather nice against a black background, I applied black felt to the tube using double-sided tape. This made its circumference 17cm.

To hem my stitching I used four-sided edging, which is stitched over 4, and as my favourite 25ct has 10 threads per centimeter is was easy to work out that the long side would need to be 43 stitches (172 threads). The short side I made 31 stitches (124 threads) so that the tube would not stick out. After all that I had one black felt tube, and one hemmed rectangle of fabric. (The next pictures are all clickable).

Making a pen holder

I’d originally intended to whipstitch the short sides of the fabric together first, and then slide it over the tube, but it was going to be quite a tight fit, and I didn’t think it would slide well over the felt, so I stitched it together (whipping twice in each stitch) directly on the tube; a bit fiddly but not too bad. It ended up looking rather like a laced corset!

Making a pen holder Making a pen holder

And here it is put to its proper use:

Douglas made into a pen holder Douglas made into a pen holder

If you decide to make one yourself, I’d love to see pictures of it and show it off in the Stitchers’ part of the gallery!

So what do you DO with it?

Some time ago I wrote about my unfortunate experiences with a sewing machine that had a mind of its own. The intention had been to finish a door hanger as a Christmas present for our niece. It is now February and I am ashamed to admit that the pretty turquoise/navy initial "I" is still a flat piece of Hardanger. So this Saturday I am determined to tackle that sewing machine and get to work on it – keep an eye on the Gallery where I hope it will appear by Monday!

All this answers (to some extent) the question in the title; one that is often asked by non-stitching spouses, relatives and friends. In a way it is a non-question. I don’t know about you, but I stitch because I enjoy stitching. I enjoy choosing (or designing) a chart, getting all the materials together, perhaps making changes to the colours or adding some embellishments, seeing the design take shape under my needle … Whether the finished article ever gets put to any use (be it decorative or practical) is of secondary importance. And if you find that people are challenging you about this, ask them what they DO with a game of cards they played, or a round of golf, or with a book they read or a film they watched. Unlike all those hobbies, stitching not only gives you a very pleasant time while working on your project, you also have something to show for it at the end. Taking it a step further and turning your stitching into an object for use, display, or present-giving, is nice when it works, but it’s no disaster when it doesn’t happen.

Even so, most stitchers (myself included) do like to do something with their finished projects, if only because it seems such a shame to just bung them in a drawer and forget about them. Framing is the obvious choice, although quite a few stitchers find that after a few years they start running out of wall space. And if, like me, many of your projects are relatively small, framing may not be the best option (for one thing, it is quite expensive!)

This is one of the reasons for the Gallery – it shows some ideas for making up finished pieces of stitching. And by the end of next week I hope there will be a few more ideas than there are now!
Besides the tuck cushion door hanger there should be two other finishes, one decorative-but-not-particularly-useful, and one which you may actually use on your desk (or give to a loved one with a desk job). The former is a biscornu (basically a wonky cushion) made from the two versions of Shades; the latter is a pen holder.

Nothing much surprises my husband about me, but I think even he was taken slightly aback when I asked him in the middle of the night whether the formula for the circumference of a circle was indeed 2πr and what he thought the diameter of a toilet roll was. He kindly answered my questions, though, and I scribbled a few quick notes on the pad by my bed. The idea is to hem a piece of stitching with four-sided edging, cover a carefully measured cardboard tube with felt or paper in a suitable colour for shining through your cut areas, whip-stitch the two short ends of the four-sided edging together to make a cylinder, and slip it over the cardboard tube. The tube needs a bottom, of course, and the stitching may need to be attached to the cardboard in some way (though I hope to make it such a snug fit that it’ll just stay put), but that should make a very attractive pen holder with not too much effort!

That may be a case of Famous Last Words, of course …