Saturday, December 7, 2024

Knitting Techniques - Cables

Cables are magic.  They are super cool, look incredibly complex, and make the knitter look quite talented.  But I'll let you in on a little secret: cables are easy and are barely more than beginner-level in difficulty.  

Cable crosses change the order of the stitches on the needle, crossing them in front of or behind the ones on the left needle.  And by combining cables, you can make incredibly complex textures and designs.

There are two main kinds of cables: 

  • Right (or back) crosses - the cable leans or travels to the right
  • Left (or front) crosses - the cable leans or travels to the left.
Right Cross (back) instructions: Slip the called-for number of stitches purlwise onto a cable needle. Dangle the cable needle with those stitches to the BACK or behind your fabric.  Work the appropriate number of stitches from the left needle, then pick up the cable needle, and work the stitches from the cable needle. In effect, these stitches crossed behind the ones you already worked.

Left Cross (front) instructions: Slip the called-for number of stitches purlwise onto a cable needle. Dangle the cable needle with those stitches in FRONT of your fabric.  Work the appropriate number of stitches from the left needle, then pick up the cable needle, and work the stitches from the cable needle. In effect, these stitches crossed in front of the ones you already worked. 

Here's a pretty good video that demonstrates how to create cables:


The terminology varies from pattern to pattern, but some use the front/back notation with abbreviations like C4B or C4F (ex., C4B = Cable 4 stitches in total, two onto the cable needle which you hold to the back of the work, plus the next two stitches from the left needle) and some use the left/right (ex., LC 3/3 = left cross three stitches by putting 3 stitches onto a cable needle, holding them to the front, working the next three stitches from the left needle, then working the three stitches from the cable needle).   

I myself prefer the front/back notation because it tells you what to DO, whereas the right/left tells you how it looks when you are done, and I have to translate that in my head where to hold the cable needle. But the charting software that I use to create my charts uses the left/right notation, so when I'm designing, that's what I use as well.

There's a nifty pnemonic that helps, though:  "I left through the front door, but I'll be right back!"  Left crosses dangle the needle to the front, and right crosses dangle the needle to the back.

Links to other cable tutorials:

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

1944-2024: Eighty Years of Grandpa's Armband

 For as long as I can remember, my grandfather's framed Maquis armband hung on the wall of his study. It was so important to him, that when he immigrated to the USA in 1947, he made room for it in his suitcase (my grandparents immigrated with 3 months' worth of salary, 2 young daughters, and 2 suitcases, so space was tight).  I don't know when he framed it, or where he kept it before they built their house on South Gary in Tulsa, but after they moved in, in the mid-1950s, it went up on the wall of his study where it stayed for the next 45 years.

Note: Click on the images to enlarge.

Arthur Lubinski's Maquis armband.

In 1988, when I was 19, I recorded his WW2 stories, and he told me a little about the armband:

  • It was intended to be an Allied uniform, but the Gestapo ignored it, considering them civilians (not soldiers) and therefore terrorists and summarily executed anyone wearing it.
  • On the back of his armband, which you couldn't see because it was in a frame - he'd written his code name: Biscuit. (I found out later that he'd also written his unit - 2nd battalion, 4th company - and it also has some sort of official seal stamped on it.)

Reverse side.
Unit info is on the left, the seal is in the center diamond,
and his nom de guerre is on the right


That year for Christmas, Mom and I decided to have it re-framed with a second layer of glass on the back so you could see his code name.  So she snuck it out of his study and brought it to Fayette (Grandpa and Grandma were going to be visiting for the holidays).  Miraculously, my grandfather didn't notice its absence (by that point, he was using a back bedroom more frequently than his study).   But we didn't have time to have it reframed before Christmas, so Mom wrapped it up as is.

On Christmas morning, we handed him the gift, and he was completely confused when he opened it and found his armband.   We explained our plan and his face LIT UP, and he flipped it over, only to be a little disappointed when the back was still blocked.

Mom handled getting the work done after the holidays - the frame shop simply cut a window in the cardboard backing, just big enough to reveal the back of the armband, and inserted a sheet of very thin plexiglass between the armband and the cardboard, then put the frame back together. A rather simple and elegant solution.

Then, after my grandparents died in the late 1990s, I asked to have the armband.   As soon as I got it, I found a museum archival business that sometimes did work for the Minneapolis Institute of Art, and took it to them for reframing, this time with the intent to preserve it long-term.


Back of the frame.
Beautiful work - They even double-matted the window.

So, two panes of UV-blocking glass, and acid-free, archival-quality materials. It cost me more than $300 over 25 years ago, so it was really quite expensive, particularly given how small it is: the outer dimensions of the frame are (in inches) 21 x 8.75 (approx. 53 cm x 22 cm).   

Alas, I don't have a photo of the armband on the wall of Grandpa's study.  The room was dim, so despite the original frame not having UV-filtering glass, it was well-protected from sunlight.  I've also always hung it on walls that got no direct sunlight, and it's in beautiful shape - barely faded at all: 

Maquis armband (brassard du maquis) lower left.

Just above the armband, you can also see a mosaic I created, inspired by the armband. Except for the round plate at the top, all of the artwork surrounding the armband was created by my husband, daughter or me.



Closeup of the Cross of Lorraine (croix de Lorraine),
the symbol of the French Resistance.
Note how the ink has remained remarkably dark and crisp.


Closeup of buckle.


Closeup of his unit
(2nd Battalion, 4th Company of the DrĂ´me FFI)


Closeup of the official seal stamped on the back. It's faded,
but I suspect the ink pad was running out.


Grandpa wrote his code name on the back: "Biscuit"
("Cookie" in American English).
I'm not sure of the significance of the numbers underneath - perhaps a date?

Monday, October 14, 2024

First impressions: Aeropress Premium Review

Aeropress Premium - Glass and Metal

 I love coffee, and one method of brewing that I fell in love with years ago was the Aeropress, which is an oddball brewer that is basically a giant syringe, but the plunger pushes concentrated coffee through a filter instead of a needle.

It's an incredibly flexible way to brew, and there are thousands of recipes out there. I've created my very best cups of coffee using the Aeropress.

The only problem? It's made of plastic, and I don't like brewing in plastic, because plastic absorbs off-flavors, and I don't believe that even BPA-free plastic isn't leaching something into my coffee.  I do use plastic for food storage, but I try to limit its use to things that are room temperature and below, as chemical leaching happens far more at hot temperatures than cold.

But that means that I decided not to use the Aeropress as an every-day brewer, and limited its use to traveling (it's lightweight and nearly unbreakable), and for a few days each month to mix it up with other methods of brewing.  I've wanted a glass or metal version ever since.

Alan Adler, the inventor (incidentally, he also invented the Aerobie frisbee), resisted the call for a glass or metal version for nearly two decades because he thought it was a terrible idea.  And, to be fair to Mr. Adler, there really are significant downsides. Glass and metal get hot, and are heat sinks, expensive, breakable and heavy.   The AP was also beloved because not only did it make excellent coffee, it was also cheap. They were originally sold for $20 back in 2005. Even today, the basic versions retail for $30-$40. 

But, eventually, Mr. Adler got old and sold the company, and the investment firm that bought the business started releasing new versions left and right (Adler was notoriously cautious about implementing new ideas), but most didn't interest me. But a year and a half ago, they teased coffee lovers with a glimpse of a glass and metal version, which DID, and a few weeks ago (finally!) they released the Aeropress Premium, made of double-walled borosilicate glass, steel, aluminum, and silicon (the plunger disk/seal).  It came with a premium price tag, too, one that rather shocked the world of specialty coffee: $150. Even I think it should have been priced in the $80-$100 range.  I had a coupon, so I got mine for $120, but still.    

I decided to skip the new stand/caddy they were offering to go with the Premium, because it too was shockingly expensive; $100 for the caddy. No thanks. I just hoped my existing stand might work.

The packaging was well-designed to protect the glass

Besides the price tag, am I happy with it? Yes and no, but mostly yes. I can get delicious cups of coffee with the thing, just as good as with the plastic one. But the damn thing feels a bit like a showpiece (it is undeniably attractive) rather than a convenient, practical, everyday piece of equipment for one reason: IT IS NOT DISHWASHER SAFE. What the hell were they thinking?  

The plunger and (I think) also the collar at the bottom of the brew chamber are made out of coated aluminum, and aluminum does ugly things in the dishwasher. Even the brew cap filter holder is made of coated stainless steel, and the coating isn't dishwasher safe.    And in the end, if the coatings aren't safe in the dishwasher, are they safe for coffee brewing?  Hopefully.

So, it is not exactly what I was looking for. I would have preferred they not use aluminum or coat the stainless (which don't need coatings anyway), and make the collar that holds the brew chamber and the plunger out of heavy-duty plastic or hollow stainless steel. I'd have been fine with plastic parts as long as they don't touch the coffee.  We called for a metal/glass version not because we wanted something fancy but because we wanted something that couldn't leach unwanted chemicals into our coffee.

Now, handwashing aside - I'm happy with the fact that they used double-walled borosilicate glass.  The outer diameter is the same as before, so existing accessories might still work.  But the double-walls are MUCH thicker than in the Original, which means they had to make the Premium significantly taller in order to keep the capacity the same (both hold about 320 ml if you are curious). That also means the plunger and stirrer had to be longer as well. So my existing Aeropress caddy only sort of works with the Premium. 

Here it is first with the Original AP, then with the new Premium:

Existing after-market stand holding plastic AP Original.


Premium AP in the existing stand.
Note how the brew chamber extends down over the funnel


Note the changes in shape between the tools.

The stand accommodated the plastic funnel that came with the AP Original, though the AP Premium ditched the funnel entirely. I actually use the funnel and will keep using it.

The new scoop doesn't fit in the scoop spot, but DOES fit in the existing stirrer slot, though I pretty much never use the scoop much anyway (I brew by weight).  The new stirrer is too fat to fit in the stirrer slot, but it can be suspended inside the plunger instead.  The only true problem is the way the funnel is enclosed inside the bottom of the brew chamber. I don't just use the funnel for the AP, but also when I'm brewing with the Stagg dripper - the funnel works way better than the one Fellow included with the dripper.  So the inconvenient access to the funnel (you have to use two hands, one to lift the brew chamber out of the way, and one to grab the funnel) is annoying.

AP Original funnel in use with Fellow's Stagg dripper.

Then it occurred to me that the stand is held together with screws and that we could "just" replace the legs with taller ones.  I talked to my husband who disassembled it, and after spending $11 at Menards, he replaced the legs with 12" (30 cm) threaded steel rods, a few nuts, and 4 plastic feet, and voilĂ :

$11 worth of materials and
my old stand now fits nicely.

As for how it works ... well, about the same as the original. You have to be a little gentler with the glass, and pre-heating the brewer is a must to avoid dropping the temperature of the water too much.  The new stainless filter cap isn't valved, so I may have to go back to inverted brewing, which is a little annoying (I hope they add a metal valved filter cap later).

Inverted brewing (left), and normal (right)

When using the brewer as intended, you set it on a mug or carafe, and because the filter cap has holes in it, coffee drains slowly out while brewing except when the plunger is in place, and then the liquid stays in the brewer for the same reason it does when you cover the end of a straw: capillary action, surface tension, and air pressure (and yes, I just looked that up).  When you push on the plunger, pressure builds in the chamber as you force the coffee through the grounds and the filter, and into the mug.

Because baristas wanted the coffee to stay in the brew chamber during brewing, they invented the inverted method, brewing upside-down; then when you are ready to plunge, you put the filter/filter cap on, flip it, and plunge. It takes some practice, but it can be done without making a mess.  But it's still a hassle, and I loved my valved filter holder that held the coffee inside even when brewing right-side up.  But it, like the rest of the AP, was plastic, so now that I have a glass brewer, I probably won't use it anymore.

The diameter of the flanged end of the plunger is very slightly wider (maybe 2 or 3 mm?) than on the Original and between that and the added weight, the Premium is actually a little more stable in the inverted position which is a Very Good Thing.  

Between the added height in both the brew chamber and the plunger, it's nearly 4" (10cm) taller when inverted, which puts it roughly even with my breast-bone (I'm on the short side, at about 5'3"/1.6m), which is decidedly less convenient (I prefer to pour 200F/93C liquids into vessels that are a little lower than that). But, it is not the end of the world by any means, and it is probably a non-issue for folks who are taller than I am.  

Most people who have an AP have knocked over an inverted brewer at least once, and I'd hate to do that with this expensive (and breakable!) version, and right now I'm thinking I'm just not going to use inverted brewing anymore, and I'll modify my inverted recipes to work right-side up.

Inverted brewing height:
Original (L) and Premium (R) 

How does it brew?  Fine.  My first brewing was delicious, and there isn't that much difference in quality between what comes from the Premium vs. from the Original, but I didn't really expect it to, as the brewer is essentially the same. Because plastic can absorb odors and flavors, the Premium should remain more neutral-smelling over time. And if you are careful to preheat the brewer, the glass being a heat sink should become a non-issue, with the temperature remaining steady during brewing. I preheat all of my brewers anyway, so it doesn't even represent a change in my brewing habits.

I never upgraded to the AP Clear that the company released a year or so ago, so this was the first time I could actually see the coffee brewing in the brew chamber, and that was really neat.  

The filter cap is easier to screw onto the brewer than with the plastic version, and that is quite nice.

All in all, it is a pleasure to use and felt nice in my hands. It's not perfect due to the ergonomics and lack of a metal flow control filter cap, but really, really nice.  And yes, I think it'll be worth the handwashing hassle, though I hope the company releases a dishwasher-safe version at some point.

I do plan to continue using my Aeropress Original while traveling through. 

Monday, September 2, 2024

An act of petty cruelty

 I witnessed an act of petty cruelty today that has left me rather shaken. 

I was at Jay Cooke State Park, walking down to the swinging bridge to get my weekly photo, when I saw two teenage girls watching the tiniest snake I’ve ever seen sunning itself on the sidewalk. From where I was, about 10-15 feet away, it looked like an earthworm.  Suddenly, a woman returning from the bridge walked right up to the girls, looked down, and deliberately stomped on the baby snake. I looked right into her face and noticed three things: she had dark hair, she was wearing a black sundress, and she was grinning as she walked away.

"Oh, I think she might’ve just killed it!" one of the teenagers exclaimed in dismay. 

"Is it a snake?" I asked when I reached them a couple of seconds later.  The proportions were all wrong for an earthworm. Far too slender and quick-moving to be a worm.  

"Yes," the girl answered as she walked slowly away.  

The snake, which was no more than 4" long and maybe 1/4" wide, didn't appear badly damaged. I didn't see any blood, but it flipped momentarily onto its back, exposing its red belly, which is not the behavior of a healthy snake.   I spent a few moments moving the snake off the sidewalk - it was so tiny I couldn't get ahold of it on the cement, so I scooted it off the sidewalk and into the grass where I was finally able to pick it up and place it in the shade, where it could either recover or die unmolested.  

That woman's actions harmed and probably painfully killed a tiny harmless snake (her behavior may well have been illegal, too - killing wildlife in a state park?), but horrified three other people who aren't going to forget her vicious act.  

I will be honest: I wanted to assault that woman. And call her obscene names.  But I did neither because I was just frozen.

Friday, August 30, 2024

... In which the family makes mixed media postcards together


Reverse side (modified rubber stamp)

My family is fortunate enough to live near my favorite place in the world: Lake Superior.  Chris and I have been coming up to Duluth since before we got married (and in fact, when we got stressed out from wedding planning, we escaped up here the weekend before the wedding).

Then, almost 2 years ago, I started a photography project, taking a weekly photo at Minnesota Point, a park/neighborhood in Duluth that separates Lake Superior from Superior Bay.  At the end of the year, I created a slide show that puts a year of the stark beauty of the place on display:


A big social outlet for me is a group on Ravelry (a site for knitters/crocheters) called Remrants, and they do a "RAK" (Random Act of Kindness) postcard exchange every summer.  On a whim, I decided to sign up, and I had the great idea to make our own postcards. I wanted it to be modeled after the photos in the slide show, and I wanted to incorporate sand collected from that beach, and paint it using watercolors moistened with actual lake water collected from that spot. I had also wanted to use leaves from that bush, but that didn't work out.  

Kivi's block and initial print.

But somewhere along the way, my daughter joined in the planning. She had taken a print-making class her senior year at University, and and I don't know if it was her idea or mine, but she hand-carved a block depicting the bush (without leaves) and a few wisps of beach grass. I LOVED it.   She also hand-carved a tiny ore-carrier ship out of an eraser, which I loved, too.  

Samples of paint, print, and sand.

We made a trip out to the point to collect some sand and water, and ... Kivi and I made a few test samples, and ... then I trouble getting it going. 

Finally, we got set up and had set aside weekend time to knock them out.  I went for a walk, and when I returned, I found that Kivi had gotten started with the water colors (and yes, she used lake water to moisten the paint), and invited her dad to join her, and between the two of them, they'd finished half of the 32 I needed (31 for the exchange, and one extra). And to my delight, no two were alike. They'd experimented with the (lake) watercolors, seeing what kind of sky/water/beach effects worked best.   

The next day, I did the remaining 16, continuing their experimentation.  Once everything was dry, Kivi did the printing, continuing to experiment and hone her skills.  After the ink had dried for 24 hours, Chris and I did the leaves using acrylic paints and dotting tools in one evening.  Then in two more evenings, I spread glue and sprinkled sand on the beach.  

It's funny - I can see where each of us brought our own talents to the table. Chris was clearly the bolder leaf-maker, willing to push the technique in dramatic ways. I got some good ones myself, but mostly because I emulated what he was doing.  The watercolors had moments of beauty from each of us (but it's often hard to identify which were done by a specific person) and of course, there's Kivi's print.  It ended up being fun, kind of a pain in the ass, but satisfying, too.

Here are all 32 (click to enlarge):









Wednesday, August 14, 2024

The time Chris jumped over a cliff in pursuit of a bear

Chris and I got married in April of 1997, and two weeks later, we went on a pretty awesome honeymoon - a 17-day 6700 mile (10,800 km) road trip from our home in central Missouri, to Los Angeles, then up the Pacific Coast (Highway 1/101) to Vancouver, then home again. We stopped at national parks or forests in Colorado, Utah, California, Oregon and Wyoming.

Somewhere in the Pacific Northwest in the early evening, when I was sleepily gazing out the window at the lovely views, Chris suddenly screeched to a halt and pulled over.  

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling a bit more awake.

Chris had already unbuckled and was on his knees facing backward, grabbing for his camera in the back seat. "Bear," he muttered, and was out the door, which he didn't even bother to close, leaving it hanging open.

I watched him sprint across the road, put one hand on the guard rail, and vault over it, dropping straight down, and out of sight.  

My heart skipped a beat. Did Chris just jump off a cliff? 

Hoping I wasn't a widow after only two weeks of marriage, I got out, walked around the car and closed his door. Then I walked across the road and peered over the guard rail.   

Fortunately, the drop wasn't nearly as precipitous as it'd appeared from the car - only dropping four or five feet, then forming a steep slope that, with care, a person could pretty easily traverse. Chris - clearly in one piece - was already at the bottom of the slope, and was scurrying toward the woods.  

I watched him disappear into the woods, and waited for him to come back.  It was probably only a couple of minutes, but it felt like forever, but he emerged from the woods, and picked his way back up to me.

"Did you see the bear again?  Did you get any photos?" I asked, relieved he was safe.

"Yeah, I saw him. I took a couple. Don't know if they'll turn out." 

I shook my head, and ruefully told him how it looked like he'd jumped off a cliff, and we laughed together.

Alas, the photos didn't turn out. The bear was nothing more than a dark blur - not even recognizable as a bear. Chris was disappointed.  

We moved to New Jersey in 1999, and sometime in the early 2000s we heard there was a bear in our rural area, but we never saw it.  We moved to Minnesota in 2004, but bears tended to avoid the Minneapolis suburbs, and the only wildlife we ever saw were the stray cats, possums, and raccoons that enjoyed our compost pile. 

When we moved to northern Minnesota in 2020, we knew that bears were more common up here than near the Twin Cities, so Chris's hopes were renewed, and finally, last summer, when he was driving through the lovely Cloquet Forestry Center on his way home from town, Chris saw a bear on the road. There was no traffic, so Chris stopped in the middle of the road, held up his phone, and snapped three photos before the bear ambled off into the woods. This time (probably because the photos turned out), he didn't bother following the bear into the woods and simply continued on his way. 

Chris's first successful photo of a bear in the wild.
Black bear in the Cloquet Forestry Center in July 2023

However, this summer our next-door neighbors have been seeing a young bear in their yard and even captured a few videos, much to our (good-natured) jealousy. We very much hoped it would make its way into our yard, too, and yesterday, it did!  I was enjoying my morning coffee when movement near the compost pile just outside my coffeehouse window caught my eye; at first, I thought it was a black dog, but I didn't know of any black dogs in our neighborhood. I leaned over to get a better vantage and ... 

"Oh! Bear!" I whispered and fumbled for my phone. The young bear, which was maybe the size of a German shepherd, heard me through the open window, and by the time I'd located my phone, the startled (and very shy) bear was running away, and I got only one good look at it before it disappeared into the woods on the other side of the gravel road. I didn't even have time to launch the camera app.

I went outside and across our driveway into the house to tell my husband what I'd seen, and he immediately followed me and looked around the area.  

"Next time, be quiet," he lectured me, "and get a picture!" 

"You could set up a game camera," I suggested.  

"That's a good idea," he answered, and set one up in the arbor vitae next to the compost pile.

No bear pics yet, but I'll update this article if we do get one.  For now, you can read up on Ursus americanus.

Sunday, August 11, 2024

Knitting Pattern: The Riveter

Note: Click on any image below to enlarge it.

Me, modeling the kerchief

Inspired by the famous Rosie-the-Riveter "We Can Do It!" poster from World War 2, I designed a knitted version of the red-and-white polka-dotted kerchief worn by Rosie:


J. Howard Miller, 1942
Public Domain

During WW2, millions of men were sent overseas to fight the Nazis, leaving labor shortages stateside, and American women rose to the occasion and and began doing traditionally-male jobs. Even women who didn't work outside the home entered the workforce (some for the first time), making massive contributions to the American economy and the war effort, helping the Allies win the war. 

Rosie the Riveter (Vultee), 1943.
Public Domain

Besides Miller's 1942 "We Can Do It!" propaganda poster, there were other posters and ads released encouraging women to join the workforce. Much of the propaganda assumed that it was temporary - that once our men came back from the war, the Rosies would leave the workforce and return to the home:

Monsanto Ad, 1943.
Public Domain.

And many were forced out of the workforce, but in the end, only temporarily (today, women make up 58% of the American workforce).

There was even a song about Rosie:


Today Rosie is a feminist icon representing the women who strive not just to get by, but their efforts to create a world in which we are *equal* partners to the men in our lives, that we can do anything we set our minds to ... even holding the highest office in our land. 

I originally used this pattern as a fundraiser for Kamala Harris, giving it away for free as an incentive to donate to her campaign.  Ten folks let me know they donated but there could have been more. Only a few people told me how much they donated ($190 total), but I'm guessing the actual number was around $400. So, THANK YOU!!!!

Now that the campaign is over, I'm raising the price to $7 (it includes two simple lace pattern variations, two different construction techniques, and a blank chart for you to create your own variations, plus it's intended for nearly any yarn weight) and you can purchase it via the Ravelry platform, here:  buy now

Liberty Ship Scaler, 1943. You can see a scarf peaking out
from under her hard hat. Public Domain


Women at work on a bomber, 1942
Public Domain

About the pattern:

Note: This pattern has not been tech-edited (yet!) and has only been partially tested. I'm a tech writer by trade, so it's in good (if not perfect) shape. If you find an error, I'd LOVE it if you'd let me know, so I can fix it sooner rather than later.

The headscarf is knitted flat from the bottom up, and is intended to be custom-fit to the wearer as you knit it (and so I recommend you use a 24" (70cm) circular needles rather than long straights). 

You can use any yarn weight, from light fingering up to heavy worsted/Aran, and the white polka-dots are represented with beads (I like the white pearlescent ones as a nod to Kamala's pearls, but any color is fine), either pony beads for heavier yarn, or large seed beads for thinner yarn, and the border and ties are knitted in seed stitch to echo the original offset polka-dot design. 

The pattern includes:

  • Written and charted instructions.
  • Two different very simple lace patterns to choose from (a plain one that looks more like the poster, and a diamond lace pattern that hints at a bandanna design).
  • A three-tie version that allows you to tie it at the top of the head as Rosie does, and also at the nape, and a two-tie version that ties only at the nape.
  • Blank chart for your own designs.

Techniques used in the pattern:

Wearing it like Rosie

There are a couple of ways to tie the kerchief:

Clockwise from upper left.

  1. Drape the kerchief around your shoulders, right-side DOWN, bottom tie dangling down your back, top ties draped in front of your shoulders. 
  2. Bring the top ties up to the top of your head, and tie them (single cross only) like a headband.
  3. Pull the bottom tie up the back of your head, and forward, tucking it under the top ties, and pulling it forward so it drapes in front of your nose.  Neaten and flip the edges so they aren't inside-out.  Tighten the top ties so they are both secure and comfortable
  4. Flip the bottom tie from your nose, over the top ties so that it's pointing toward the back of your head
  5. Tie the top ties again, this time over the bottom tie.
  6. Neaten, tighten, artfully tuck.


Here's a video tutorial. The tying starts at about 27 seconds in, if you want to skip forward:



Another way to get to the same end result:


    1. Drape the kerchief on your head right-side UP, with the top ties at your shoulders, and the bottom tie draping down over your face/nose.
    2. Pick up the top ties and draw them up to the top of your head, and tie them (single cross only), so that they hold down the bottom tie. Release the top ties so they drape on either side of your head.
    3. Pick up the bottom tie from your nose, and flip it back over the top ties, so that it points toward the back of your head.
    4. Pick up the top ties again, and tie them in a knot. From there, pick up with step 6 in the first set of instructions

      And finally - admire your results!


      Anna Bland at work on
      USS George Washington Carver, 1943.
      Public Domain



      Welder works on aircraft parts at
      Offutt Air Force Base, NE, 1940s.
      Public Domain

      All Things Knitting

      My Available Designs


      My Unpublished/Unfinished Designs (must have a Ravelry account for access the links, but there are some select photos at the bottom of this post):


      Miscellaneous Knitting Stories and Other Stuff:

      Irrelevant/Outdated Knitting Articles:
      A Selection of My Best knits:


      The Argus Hat (my design, link above)


      The Riveter (my design, link above)

      Wild Rumpus Hat (my design, unpublished)

      Iris Tam (my design, unpublished)

      The Argus Hat (my design, link above)


      Sean's Simple Harvest

      Chad's Chouette

      My Salem Slouch

      Norberta Shawlette

      A Trio of Jayne Cobb Hats

      Paul's R2D2 Hat

      Wonder Woman Wrap