Alpaca and the Virgin Mary

Virgin Mary with Child knitting

Knitting Madonna Meister Bertram von Minden (1345-1415)

Knitting has been around for centuries — perhaps even longer than that. However, the exact era when knitting began is hard to pin down. Most likely knitting evolved from a technique involving a single hook called naelbinding. Artifacts of this type have been found in Egyptian tombs and other archaeological sites. In a completed piece, it is often hard to distinguish naelbinding from what we think of as modern knitting. As early as the 14th century, iconography of the Virgin Mary depicts knitting in the round using long double pointed needles. These knitted tubes were probably the earliest form of modern knitting; the development of the purl stitch came later. To create flat textiles from yarn knitted in the round, the tube was simply cut (a technique termed steeking).

Commonly, ancient knitted pieces were done in fine gauges; 17 to 20 st/in was common. That man’s sweater that you are working on with size 1 needles would not get nearly the same amount of ‘oohs and ahhs’  back then.’ Larger’ gauges (7 st/in) were more often used for wall hangings or carpets. Just to put this into perspective, the socks I am currently knitting on size 1.5 needles (2.5 mm) with fingering weight wool are 9 st/in.

What about the yarn (they ask with a desperate longing)? Spinning fiber into yarn began with a simple spindle and whorl. Spinning wheels were not put into use until the middle ages (think Sleeping Beauty). Cotton, flax, wool, silk were commonly available fibers in the early centuries of knitting. Wool, as is still true today, was the workforce yarn used for everything from sweaters to blankets. Silk was reserved for the nobility and their fancy silk hosiery, whereas cotton and flax were only popular in areas where it was available. Rayon (think acrylic and other synthetics) did not hit the scene until the late 19th/early 20th century.

Wool is still probably the most popular fiber. It can be felted or fulled, made ‘superwash’ to resist felting, dyed a wide array of colors, and has a texture that ranges from dense and scratchy to fine and lofty. Like most animal fibers, wool can hold many times its weight in water before it feels wet — a feature that makes it great for cloth diaper covers. Unlike many softer animal fibers, it holds its shape very well.

Luxury animal fibers include such wonderments of snuggle-tude as alpaca, cashmere, and llama. Llama is probably my most favorite (with cashmere a close second), but I would say I knit most with alpaca. It has all of the wonderful features as wool, but is warmer. It is a bit more drapey than wool, so as for llama and cashmere, care must be taken to knit utilitarian items at a tighter gauge. You wouldn’t want your nice fitted alpaca sweater to be a dress by the end of the day. Cashmere is a clear favorite between knitters, friends, and commenters. I have to agree with the sheer indulgence of laying in a pile of cashmere (only vicuña would be better), but I feel that it is a bit too fragile to make it a great everyday fabric.

Then there are the plant-based fibers. I include silk in this category, not because it is derived from a plant, but because it shares many of the same characteristics. Plant fibers are, in general, smoother and less elastic than their animal fiber cousins. Cotton, flax, silk, corn, soy, bamboo — the possibilities are almost endless now a days. Garments and accessories from plant yarns make great dishcloths, baby clothes, and blankets due to their strength, durability, and ease of cleaning. I have knit quite a few things with plant fibers, but I curse them every time. The lack of elasticity and my knitting posture make for sore fingers and achy shoulders. I soldier on because often the yarn is perfect for the task at hand, but I always long for my alpaca.

To round out the major division of yarns are synthetics. Many plant fibers (like bamboo and corn) are technically synthetics, in the sense that many chemical processes are required for their production, but I feel that characteristically some synthetics deserve a category of their own. Everyone that I know has secretly or openly knitted with Red Heart. Some people don’t like to admit it. Some people try to stay as far away from acrylic/rayon as possible, but in all honesty, there are times when it is the best thing for the task at hand. I have knit stuffed animals for children using a mix of Red Heart, Pound o Love, and Caron Simply Soft. Sure, it hurts my fingers just like cotton does, but I am not handing a 2 year old a Piglet crocheted out of cashmere. I want Piglet to be taken to the park, by the river, shoved in a bag, dropped out of a stroller, and ultimately into the washer. Hands down acrylic wins in my mind for this brutal treatment. Plant fibers are sturdy, but I don’t think they will quite handle that kind of abuse (as demonstrated by my linen dishcloth that just gave up the ghost).

There are many more yarn types and blends than I have outlined here, but I think these are the three major categories. For more information about the history of knitting, I direct you to:

  • A History of Handknitting by Richard Rutt
  • Knitted history group
  • Alita Designs
  • quick walk through of yarn production
  • Know your fiber

    This is a foodie blog, a baby blog, a friend who lives on a different continent blog, but it is mostly a knitting blog. I found my mojo again, and have been knitting up a storm, but mostly I want to talk about the science and history of knitting. There is a wealth of information out there on this topic and my research has just begun.
    The emotional aspect of knitting (the obsession, the humor, and the heartache) is a niche nicely carved out by the Yarn Harlot and the Panopticon. The mechanical side of knitting is explained in beautiful detail (in both words and illustrations) by TechKnitter. She does such a perfect job of describing the hows and whys of a knit stitch that I would not deign to follow down that path for the surety of failing miserably.

    La petite tricoteuse means ‘little knitter’ in French. I especially feel little next to the enormity of the history and science of knitting. It is much to take in at one time, but lets start with the building blocks of a knitted textile: fiber.

    Fiber throughout much of history was obtained through animal (e.g.,sheep) or plant (e.g., cotton) sources. Modern knitting has blown the door wide open on the fiber content possibilities. Wool is still the gold standard, but yarn can be composed of things as conventional as alpaca or silk, or as exotic as corn, metal, or chitin. In the coming weeks we shall talk about all of these fiber categories and the pros and cons of each from both a historical and scientific perspective. In the mean time — what is your favorite fiber to work with and why?

    Infused Oil

    The Captain and I got some really great Olive Oil from the farmer’s market and decided to start experimenting with infusion. Our first concoction involved about a cup of oil, 6 cloves of garlic, and a teaspoon of lavender. Put it all in a jelly jar and let sit in the fridge for a few days.  What better way to spice up some grilled cheese? I brushed some oil on a nice 9 cereal boule and stacked it high with cheddar cheese. The aroma in the apartment was heaven. I think the lavender and garlic would marry better with a goat cheese, truly, but I have been on a cheddar kick ever since we located real cheddar cheese here in France. The oil browns faster than using just butter, so keep a keen eye on the pan. Served with arugula or mesculin and a nice balsamic dressing it is a very satisfying lunch.

    Bienvenue

    Welcome to the new home of La Petite Tricoteuse. I am a physicist, a knitter, an amateur chef, believer in faeries, old soul, and sometimes ingenue with a penchant for Kingdom Hearts and mon mari Belge. So, get your favorite snack ready, pull up a comfy chair, and join me on an adventure through time and space. I shall cover myriad topics on this little blog and I hope we all learn a little something along the way.

    As an American expat living in a cozy little town in the French Alps, I have gotten to let my imagination run wild. All of the old buildings hold so much character. I can feel like I have fallen back in time a bit when I walk to the butcher or the baker. I started knitting in order to link myself to the past. Physics gives me a path to the future. I have no idea how this will all end up, and I am sure there will be some frenetic ramblings along the way, but the life is in the journey after all.