Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers tutorial part three: inserting the back darts and joining the four leg pieces

Welcome to the third part of the Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers tutorial. Now that the front pieces are assembled, you are going to prepare the back pieces and attach them to the corresponding front pieces. Just you you did last week, please repeat each instruction for the other side of the trousers.

First of all, you need to insert the darts in piece 2. Make sure that you’ve accurately transferred your markings to your fabric. If you are new to darts, I strongly recommend marking them on the wrong side of the fabric as well, so that you can see the line that you are sewing along.

Working on just one dart at a time, fold the fabric right sides together so that the two diagonal dart lines lie on top of one another. The excess fabric should be on the wrong side of the fabric. The trick with darts is to iron them flat, pin them along the sewing line, and sew from the fat end towards the point. Here is my pinned dart. I’ve used a horizontal pin to mark the end of the dart.

Never sew all the way to the point (stop a few mm before you get there), or back stitch at the point; just leave your ends long and tie them in a granny knot. This prevents the point from puckering. You can see my finished dart, with long ends at the bottom, here.

When you’ve completed both darts, press them towards the centre back seam. Here are my completed darts.

It’s now time to attach piece 1 to piece 2 along the side seam. Lay out piece 2, right side up. Find which piece 1 goes with it by laying them on top, wrong side up. The correct piece is the one on which edge F is aligned with edge H, when they are placed right sides together like this. Pin and sew seam FH from the top to the bottom, so that the top is lined up perfectly even if the bottom isn’t. You will need to ensure that the pocket extension piece (piece 5) is straight. You can see my pinned pieces here.

Then press this seam open, as I’ve done in the photo below.

Now that each leg of the trousers is constructed, you’ll be working with the both legs at once as you sew them together.

Sew the legs together along the crutch seam. Arrange the trouser legs so that they are both still wrong sides out and right sides facing, with each piece 1 on top. Place them next to each other in an ‘A’ shape so that edges CK, which will be lying on top of each other in each leg, are facing each other at the top of the ‘A’. You can see mine laid out like this in the photo below.

Pin edge C of the left leg to edge C of the right leg. Starting from the top of the trousers, sew seam CC towards and ending at the end of the curve (the crotch point). In the photo below, you can see my pinning and I am pointing at the point that I am going to sew to. Do not sew on down the trouser leg.

Turn the trousers over, and repeat these steps for seam KK. Here is my pinned seam KK, and again, I am pointing at the point to which I am going to sew.

Press both seams open, taking care not the distort the curves.

Next, you’re going to sew the trouser inseams. Lay out your trousers, still wrong sides out, so that pieces 1 are on top again. They should look like this:

Align where all four parts of the trouser legs meet at the crotch, and pin. Pin seam DJ on one leg. In the photo below, you can see that I’ve pinned this seam on one leg. The scissors are pointing at the crotch point.

Sew from the crotch point towards edges E and I. It’s important that you sew both seams in this downwards direction. Repeat for seam DJ on the other leg. Press both seams open, as shown in the photo below.

Turn your trousers the right way out, and admire! They should look like trousers with a really big waistline. If you gather the top, they will look like mine do in the photo below.

That’s all for this week. Next week, you’ll be finishing the trousers by adding the waistband and fastenings, and finishing the bottom hems.

Madeleine

How are you getting on? Is this your first pair of trousers, or are you an old hand?

These days

I’ve been making a real effort not to say I’m so busy, although truth be told I catch myself doing it all the time. Yesterday afternoon, collecting Ilse from my parents house, I found myself doing my usual must dash! – and it was true. John has been out of the country for work this week, which has been the cherry on the cake of a very full life.

The trouble is that the word busy doesn’t have the best connotations. There’s something self-important about it, as well as pointless. They call it busy work for a reason: something to keep children occupied and make them think they are getting somewhere whereas, in fact, they are standing still. There isn’t anything necessarily wrong with a bit of busy work, as long as it’s a conscious choice. I’d count knitting something simple as grown up busy work, really. But I don’t want to think of my life as busy. I want to think of it as full of the things I love.

These days, I am working four days a week outside the home and one day on my pattern designing business, and I am loving it all. Around the edges, though, I’ve chosen to keep going with the other things I enjoy, rather than putting them on ice for when the work dries up, or, worse, the last of the children leaves home. Like most people, I like finding out about how other people spend their time and, as this has been so much on my mind lately, I thought I’d share a week with you.

On Mondays, I just go to work. Normally, nothing happens in the evening, which is the loveliest end to the first day of the week. John and I take it in turns to come home and take care of the children and the chores, or stay late at work. As a result, I either switch off by cooking and doing the ironing, or walk straight into a house with a lit fire and tea on the table. I like both.

The lack of clubs means that Monday nights are when I tend to finish off – or at least work on – whatever craft project I started at the weekend. This Monday just gone I finished a couple of waistcoats for an upcoming ballet show (don’t worry, I’m not actually in it. I wouldn’t inflict that on any audience).

On Tuesdays, I go for a swim in the evening. We decided to enter an outdoor swim this summer, so since December I’ve been swimming twice a week (more in the holidays) at our local pool. There’s a women’s only session on Tuesdays, which is the perfect time to do interval training in the pool as everyone is very polite and knows that you are not trying to race them for a couple of lengths before going maddeningly slowly for a bit. At least, I hope so. Maybe they all just think I’m annoying.

On Wednesday evenings, I have a music lesson. At the moment, I’m working on the piano. You might remember that I also play the flute, but I find that one instrument to practice (hopefully) every (most) day(s) is quite enough to have on my plate at the moment, thank you very much. One day I am going to do my flute diploma. But I am enjoying playing the piano so much that I’ve decided to go for my grade 8 on that first. It might take forever, but I’m enjoying the journey and I’ll get there eventually.

Thursday is my day when I work at home on my business, and in the evening I head out to my adult ballet class. To be entirely honest, John often has to give me a shove out the door. Having spent a day blissfully cacooned in my own little world of sewing and knitting and writing, the thought of donning a leotard and going out into the cold and doing what is always a really challenging class is not a little daunting. Then I get there and I love it. Every. Single. Time.

On Fridays, I like to come home and cook and then watch something in front of the fire with everyone. I might, if I’m feeling energetic, do a little knitting. I always have an early night. Now that I’m forty, I don’t even pretend to want to stay up late.

Saturday mornings are probably the hardest part of the whole week, involving cleaning the house, planning meals and generally catching up with the debris of the week. Suffice to say that I have streamlined this to within an inch of its life. I will never enjoy it, so it may as well be got over with as quickly as possible. I know that there are people who love this more than anything, but I just don’t. If I could travel through time, I’d go and get myself a Victorian housekeeper – you know, one with really high standards who would take care of everything. Sadly, I can’t. At least everyone pitches in.

I do, however, love Saturday afternoons, because this is often when I start a big new crafty project. If you remember, I did a lot of cutting out of fabric during the Christmas holidays, and last week it was a joy to be able to just pick up those waistcoat pieces and start to sew. There is no way I would have had the wherewithal to grade and cut the pattern, but sewing? I can do that. Especially with a pot of tea, some Christmas cake and some good company.

If I’m not sewing, I’m swimming, because the weekend is the best time to get into the pool and just swim for as long as I want. Sometimes I have company that gets bored after about an hour, and sometimes I go on my own and stay in much longer. I don’t mind when in the weekend I go, or how far I swim, as long as I go and do at least 60 lengths of crawl. I am astonished by how much progress I’ve made in two short months.

Sunday has long been family day in our house, and in winter that often means a walk. Last Sunday it was just a short one: an hour along the Fulford Ings and back. The week before we all went to see Mary Poppins, instead. Next weekend is Residents First weekend in York, when all the local attractions and restaurants and so forth are open at a very reduced rate to anyone with a YorkCard. There’s a lot to choose from, but I’m hoping for a trip up the Minster tower as it’s been literally years, and perhaps a visit to Barley Hall or the Merchant Adventurers’ Hall. We’ll see.

I can’t quite decide whether this is the most boring post in the world (I suspect it is – sorry) or actually vaguely interesting to those of you who don’t know me in real life. But I think I’m going to publish it anyway, for my future self. There’s been a lot of dedicated diary writing in our house, lately, and I caught myself thinking that I really ought to keep one again. And then I remembered that I do, after a fashion, right here on this blog. One day, when this big old house is much emptier and I have time on my hands, I’d like to look back at the way things used to be. The longer I live, the more I realise that life changes, imperceptibly, all the time, and what was just the norm one year is completely forgotten the next. So this is a little record for myself, really, of these fleeting months at the start of my fifth decade, and how I chose to fill them.

Madeleine

What are you choosing to fill these days with?

Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers tutorial part two: assembling the pockets and trouser fronts

Welcome to the second part of the Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers tutorial. This week you are going to construct each trouser leg separately before sewing them together. For each of the following instructions, repeat them for the other leg.

First of all, you need to insert the pleat in piece 1. Lay piece 1 out with the right side facing upwards. Bring the two solid lines together until they meet, directly on top of the dotted line. Press this (box) pleat, making sure that it is even on the back. Pin this:

and sew down (horizontally), using a straight stitch within the seam allowance, but very close to your marked sewing line.

Now it’s time to construct the pockets. Find the pieces 1 and 4 that face this way, right sides up:

With right sides together, pin and sew pieces 1 and 4 together along seam NA, stopping at #. Start from the top of the trouser front/ pocket, and sew downwards. Here they are pinned:

and sewn:

Now find pieces 3 and 5 that face this way, right side up:

With right sides together, pin and sew pieces 3 and 5 together along seam LP, stopping at *. These seams will feel strange – a bit unevenly matched and bulky. It’s just because they are slightly different curves and lengths. Just pin them carefully. It’s really important that you don’t pull on the fabric when you are sewing curves, as they stretch out of shape quite easily. To combat this, pin them pieces really carefully and feed them gently and slowly through the machine, without pulling on them. You could even hand sew them loosely first, for extra security. It will look nice and flat when you open it out. Here they are pinned:

and sewn:

Next, you need to attach your pocket lining to your pocket piece. Attach pieces 3 and 4 by pinning and sewing seam MO with right sides together. Here they are side by side:

and sewn:

Now arrange the fabric, right side up, so that edge A meets edge P. The pocket fabric should lie beneath the trouser front.

Finally, pin and sew between # and * of the pocket pieces. (Do not attach the pocket pieces to the trouser front at this point.) In this photo, it’s the bit between the pins.

Press all your seams. If you really want to, you can understitch the seams where your pocket meets the trouser fabric, to stop the pocket fabric from rolling out. But I don’t like to: the pockets are made to gape slightly and show off the pocket fabric.

Madeleine

What fabrics have you chosen for your pockets? I’d love to know!

Two quilts, maybe three

Not so very long ago – within the last five years – the airing cupboard held bulging bags of would-be quilts. There were old wool blankets from our grandparents’ homes, a stained batik tablecloth of my mothers, a tired feather duvet, ripped sheets, leftovers from dressmaking projects and more than a couple of bags of old clothes in patterned fabrics. One summer holiday I got the whole lot out and divided it up as best I could, never having made a quilt before. I divvied up the blankets and other bits of wadding, assigned backing, and estimated how many scraps I’d need for each. Armed with a pair of scissors and the fact that a coin quilt really couldn’t be all that tricky, I set about making my very first quilt, which Seb has had on his bed ever since. It took far more scraps than I’d anticipated, and I wouldn’t use such a heavy backing again, but it still looks nice enough.

Ilse’s Irish Chain took several months more, even with the loan of a cutting mat and other game-changing equipment. It took so long, in fact, that I wondered if the library would allow me to keep renewing the same book for so many months. But eventually that, too, was done, and the bags in the airing cupboard were a little bit lighter.

That summer I got organised and made up two more ‘kits’, dying white sheets for backgrounds and setting myself up for the next two quilts. That autumn I ended up making three, two of which have never been blogged and Ben’s fast and furious leaving-home quilt. And, finally, the airing cupboard was empty and all the children’s beds were covered in a bit of homemade warmth.

Five quilts down the line, a huge kingsize one is next, for John and I. In my head, I place a glorious order with Liberty and spend a happy month or so making a starburst of truly cosmic dimensions, radiating from its epicentre in a blur of colour and light. One day.

In reality, all the sewing I’ve done over the past couple of years has generated a significant number of scraps, and this is what I quilt with. I’ve learned a thing or two about keeping them quilt-ready. Inspired by professional quilters who keep their bins full of precut fabrics in every size, shade and scale, I’ve been keeping on top of my own cutting in a rather more specific way.

The thing about using scraps and old clothes is that for every nice big 8″ square you get, you end up with fifty much smaller bits that simply can’t be used. So I’ve chosen three quilts to have on the go, in sizes that can be cut down into each other if I change my mind.

First of all, there’s a postage stamp quilt, designed to use up all those pesky little 2.5″ square pieces (anything smaller goes in a scrap jar and gets used for making cards, and crazy quilting and the like. Ilse loves digging through it). I don’t think I’d have the patience to sew 1936 little scraps of fabric together in one go, but it’ll take years for me to accumulate that many scraps. In the meantime, I’m stitching them into 16 patch blocks with no rules other than that no fabric can be repeated in each block. When I’ve made 121 of them (or earlier, if I get sick of this project) I’ll sew them all together and finish the quilt.

The quilt that I’m really excited about is the next size up. I cut anything that would allow into 5″ squares, so that I could cut them down into 2.5″ squares if I wanted to speed the postage stamps along, and spent a very pleasant few months considering what to do with them. For a long time, I pondered a hand-stitched clam quilt, but in the end Christina’s gorgeous Drunkard’s Path sent me on a little pathway of my own, and I am planning something like this beauty. I’ve dyed and cut more than enough grey squares (yet another worn out sheet) in various shades to pair with the number of coloured squares I have so far, and am looking forward to some steady piecing as and when the fancy takes me.

Finally, I’d like to make a very simple, large scale quilt of half square triangles. Whenever I can – and it isn’t often – I cut a 10″ square. These seem to get used up faster than I can collect them: twenty went into the back of a baby quilt, and several more were cut up into 5″ squares. I’ve got eleven at the moment, and think the duplicates will hit the cutting mat soon. That leaves just eight, which is a very small beginning indeed. Perhaps that pile will grow, and one day there’ll be a kaleidoscope of all my favourite fabrics on our bed, in triangles large enough to show them off. Or perhaps I’ll need just a few more squares here or there to finish off the other quilts, and that’ll be the end of that. Whichever happens, it doesn’t really matter. All things being equal, there’ll be a quilt on our bed in the next couple of years, and another for the guest room. Two quilts is what is really planned, and a third would be a bonus.

Madeleine

How do you plan your quilts (or do you not plan them at all)? Do you make them fast, or over months and years? With new fabric or old?

Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers tutorial part one: preparation and cutting out

Welcome to the first part of the Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers tutorial. This week you’re going to assemble the paper pattern, choose your size and cut out your fabric pieces.

Before you begin, please make sure that you’ve washed and ironed your fabric. That way your beautiful new trousers won’t shrink and warp the first time you put them through the wash.

Now measure yourself (or whoever the intended recipient is), and choose the right size. Please don’t get hung up on what size you normally are in the shops; just go for whichever hip and waist size best describes you.

Now you’re ready to assemble the paper pattern. There are full instructions attached to the paper pattern – please do take the time to read them. They are entitled How to use this pattern. Basically, though, this is what you do.

Cut out all the square pattern pieces and lay them out in a grid pattern. Each square has two numbers in the top left corner. The first number tells you which row the square is in, and the second indicates the position in that row, from left to right. So square 1,1 is the top left hand square. Square 3,2 is in the third row from the top and is the second square from the left.

You can see in the photo below how I have assembled the pattern and highlighted each piece in my size. The pocket pieces are one size only.

You need to cut mirror images of pieces 1, 2, 5 and 6 from your main fabric. This is because you need each piece for both the right and left sides of your body. You can do this in two ways. First, you can fold your fabric in half, lay your pattern pieces on top and cut both mirrored pieces at once. Alternatively, you can keep your fabric flat. Lay your pattern piece on the fabric right side up and cut the first piece. Then turn your pattern piece so that it is right side down and cut the second piece. Whichever method you choose, remember to align the grainline of the pattern with the grainline of your fabric. Remember to trace the sewing line, and add seam allowances. Apart from seams E and I, which will be folded over twice, all the other seams will be enclosed so an allowance of 1.5cm/ 1/2” should be ample. Use a larger seam allowance if you prefer. Add at least 5cm/ 2” seam allowances to edges E and I – and more if you would like the option of longer trousers. You can trim the excess fabric later, if necessary.

You also need to cut mirrored pieces of pieces 3 and 4 out of the pocket fabric in the same way.

I’ve used an obliging duvet cover, folded to the right dimensions, to demonstrate the layout of both fabric width options. First, we have the 2.25m/89” x 1.14m/45” fabric. I’ve folded it it half lengthways and laid out the pattern pieces like this:

Then there’s the 1.91m/80” x 1.52m/60” option. Again, I’ve folded the fabric in half lengthways. Here’s the recommended layout:

Then you need to lay out pieces 3 and 4 on your pocket fabric, again folded in half to produce two mirror images of each piece. I folded the piece of fabric below so that it measured 56cm/22″ x 35.5cm/14″.

You also need to cut one piece of interfacing from paper pattern piece 6, but without a seam allowance. Then cut this interfacing in half lengthways, so that you have two long, very thin strips.

Once you’ve traced your pieces, added seam allowances and cut them all out, leave them attached to the paper pattern pieces until you need them. Before you use each one, transfer the markings from the paper to the fabric using a fading fabric pen or dressmaker’s chalk. Then zigzag stitch around all the edges, to prevent fraying.

That’s it for this week! Next week you’ll be assembling the trouser fronts – including the pockets.

Madeleine

What fabrics are you working with? I’d love to see these in a range of different choices, and to see what people have picked out for their pockets!

Forty

I think that my fortieth birthday was probably the nicest one I’ve ever had.

There’s an awful lot to be said for getting older and knowing just what you like. I didn’t want a party, or a big fuss, or a special present from John. But I did want to celebrate with my friends and family, and I did want to mark the occasion in some way. So in the end, John booked us into the sumptuous Pale Hall for the weekend, and we had such a fantastic time.

We don’t often have much time with just the two of us, and our holidays are self-catered apartments or back-to-basics bothies much of the time. So you can imagine my delight when we pulled up at the entrance to the hotel, handed over our car keys and were shown into the drawing room for a glass of fizz. Just the two of us (thanks, Mum and Dad), and a weekend of the most incredible food and drink and surroundings. We decided to just be decadent and had the six course tasting menu (something we only discovered in our thirties) and wine flight on the first night, and then dined in again on the second night, which was my actual birthday. Everything was done just beautifully, from the games in the library to the decanter and double ended bath in our room, and the staff couldn’t have been friendlier or more welcoming. I think the moment that summed up the juxtaposition of such luxury with such unstuffiness was when I realised that the harpist was playing Radiohead while we had our canapés on my birthday evening. Really, it was the nicest break we’ve had together since we got engaged, and the best present I could have received.

I saved my actual presents – from other people – for the Sunday night, because Ilse in particular likes to watch me open them. The children put them under the Christmas tree (it was still just up, it being 12th night) and opened a bottle of prosecco and the Christmas cake and had such a lovely last evening of the holidays. I have some great experiences to look forward to, as well as choosing the setting of some precious stones bought somewhere special to our family, back when I was little. There weren’t any Sunday night blues on my part. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing my colleagues again. Before the holidays, they had arranged things so nicely that I am the happy holder of some theatre vouchers which will be put to good use very soon. I am lucky to work with such an fun and thoughtful team.

Turning 40 prompts a lot of nostalgia amongst people who have been there. Some people have told me that they stayed at home and cried their eyes out. Others ignored it. But several had a great time. After all, what’s not to like? I feel (almost) grown up, but not old. I have more freedom than I’ve ever had, in all sorts of ways. I’ve started a new chapter at work this week, as well as carrying on with the things I was already doing. I have a wonderful family and group of friends, and I get to spend a lot of time doing things I love. Life is sweet. And it was so much fun celebrating 40 years of it.

Madeleine

I have to ask – if you’ve turned 40, what was your birthday like?

Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers is published – and we have a winner!

I’m delighted to announce that the Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers trouser pattern is now available via my Etsy shop.

A copy of the brand new trouser pattern will be winging its way to Amanda Topps, who left a comment about them in another post. Happy sewing!

Introducing Mrs Darcy Wears the Trousers

Like many others, I greet the autumn with wool in hand, my to-knit list growing faster than I get get through it. But by the time December arrives, my appetite for knitting is sated somewhat, and I start planning my New Year sewing.

I love to sew in the cold and crisp new year. The winter is the only time when I can fully turn my back on the garden, and so any spare daylight hours can be given over, guilt free, to sewing. We light the big stove in the dining room and I’m happy in there all day, cutting and pressing at the big table before moving to the armchair in the bay to hand finish garments in the last of the afternoon light.

I do almost all our sewing for the year in the winter months. By February, the emphasis is very much on summer clothing: simple cotton frocks and skirts and whatever else is needed. I like to have an easy quilt on the go, so that I can make a block here or there when a spot of making is required and I don’t have time to dive into dressmaking. But in January, you’ll usually find me making any winter clothes that my wardrobe is lacking. And this year, what was lacking was most definitely a warm pair of versatile trousers.

These trousers are inspired by all those button-up trousers that men wear in period dramas – you know, the pale beige trews sported by Mr Darcy and his friend Bingley, for example. Rather than a complicated fit involving a fly, or the unflattering bulk of an elastic waist, I wanted a simple button front. I also wanted a appealing cut, and the simple lines of peg trousers look elegant on everyone, in my opinion. The beauty of this design is that the button closure, combined with the easy fit of the peg style, means that you don’t have to worry about fit. Simply make your trousers in the correct size, try them on, and sew the buttons in the right place for a perfect fit. Trouser fitting doesn’t get any easier than this.

I made my first pair of these last winter, from a gorgeous dotted chambray, using scraps of Liberty Maybelle for the pockets. As you can see from the photos, they look equally good styled for older and younger models. The lovely Ella wore them in a way I never would, and I loved their funked-up cool. In fact, I loved them so much that I wanted a version to carry me through the cooler months, so made another pair from a soft wool tweed. They work equally well in any soft and drapey fabric and are ridiculously comfortable. What’s more, they look good with everything. Dress them up with heels for work, or down with boots, pumps or sandals for home. Make the pockets from scraps of something beautiful, as they do peek out in the most delightful way. They also provide the all-important modesty needed with button-up trousers, ensuring that there’s no chance of an unfortunate gaping moment. And because these are a feminine take on the style, and we all know who was really in charge in that particular marriage, I’ve named them after Miss Elizabeth Bennett as was.

This is very much a beginner trouser pattern. If you can sew straight lines and curves on a machine, you can make these. There is some pleating involved around the waistline, and pockets to insert, but these are clearly explained. As you might expect, I’ve put together a fully-photographed tutorial which will be published beginning in January on this blog, and will remain freely available thereafter.

I’d like to run a little giveaway for this pattern, so if you’d like to be in with a chance of winning a free copy, please leave a comment below. To be eligible to win, you need to tell me who you are making the trousers for, and whether or not they will be your first pair. The deadline for entries is midnight (GMT) on Wednesday 9 January 2019. I’ll announce the winner on Thursday 10 January, which is also the day that the pattern will become available in my Etsy shop. The tutorials will be published over four Fridays from Friday 11 January.

Madeleine

Who would you make these trousers for? Will they be your first pair? Leave a comment answering both these questions to be eligible to win a free copy of the pattern.

As I’ll ever be

I have spent quite a bit of this holiday getting ready for the new year. There’s a lot on the books for 2019: a significant increase in work hours, a big birthday, work on the house, more patterns to publish, an outdoor swimming event, a couple of nice holidays… Then there are all the things I want to carry on with: parenting and gardening, ballet, music lessons, reading and crafting and working on my writing. Enough to keep me out of trouble, at any rate.

Yet for all my planning, I am not a fan of New Year’s resolutions. I don’t see the logic in having just one shot at changing habits every year. If I want to change something, I’ll change it, no matter what the calendar says.

I do, though, always feel a shift during the Christmas holidays. It’s less to do with dates than the passing of the winter solstice, the subtle lengthening of the days, and the inevitability of the spring to come. Winter is here, and it won’t last forever. So I find myself making preparations, and urging others to do the same.

This year, as every other since we’ve lived in this house with its big old garden, we’ve had a family day out there, hacking and chopping and pruning until it is in a fit state to leave until it greens again. We filled two enormous builders’ sacks with evergreen waste to haul to the council compost facility, and have a heap of branches by the fire pit just waiting for den-building and a spot of chicken-proofing before an enormous bonfire one dull weekend to come.

As is also always the way, my focus has shifted away from knitting to sewing. I love to pull all my fabric out in the quiet days after Christmas, and write little labels assigning projects to each length. This year, though, I tried something new. Conscious of the fact that my time and attention are going to be stretched, I went ahead and cut every single one of my projects for the coming season. I have to give full credit for this to Jo at Three Stories High, who wrote a post about this in November. I have to admit, I read it and thought that while it was a good idea, it wasn’t for me, because I don’t like to have more than one work in progress on the go at a time. But when I was writing my labels, I realised that I probably wasn’t going to want to draft a new skirt pattern on a Saturday after the cleaning and shopping and ballet runs. I certainly wasn’t going to be in the mood for grading boys’ waistcoat pieces for the upcoming dance show. And I would probably put off dyeing the background fabric for my 5″ scrap quilt when faced with another week’s worth of laundry. Besides, in my head, a length of fabric is a work in progress the moment I pay for it. So I got on with it.

First I pulled out my tailored skirt block and drafted a new style I want to develop.

I drafted a bias-cut cami, and some new underthings, and cut up a stack of old clothes into scrap-quilt squares. There are also three bags and two lined zipped pouches, ready for some simple evening stitching.

I bought a couple of packets of Dylon and turned a ripped sheet, old pillowcase, stained dress shirt and boringly white fat quarter into grey background fabric.

And then I cut out 197 background squares in various shades of grey.

I dealt with all other the leftover pieces straight away, and now my quilts are ready to sew.

I graded a waistcoat pattern for Seb and the other boy in his ballet class, and cut all the pieces.

Then I tidied my little studio, including my sewing drawer. All that’s left uncut are two lengths of fabric for pattern tutorials (because I need to photograph the process) and one piece of rather lovely Liberty that I suspect is destined to be used whole, on the back of a quilt.

Everything else is ready for garments, bags, pouches or quilts.

And then I set my space up to carry on with my 2 1/2″ postage stamp quilt.

Not all the days have been quite as purposeful, though. I’ve been going for lots of long leisurely swims with John or one of the children for company. I’ve done some very relaxed piano practice. There has been a lot of lounging around watching films and knitting up my latest design. We’ve been for a few lovely sunshine-y strolls, including one down into the Hole of Horcum yesterday, when the purples and greens and oranges of the winter landscape delighted us all. We’ve been planning lots other of walks for the coming Sundays, with the odd pub lunch thrown in, as well as other nice things to do together in our downtime. And there’s a fiendishly difficult jigsaw in progress on the dining table.

Mostly, though – and especially in the week to come – I am going to be attempting the impossible, in trying to store up as much rest as possible for the weeks ahead. So yes, I will definitely be having that second cup of tea in bed, and perhaps doing a few rounds of colourwork before I get up. There’s nothing urgent, just now. Everything is as ready as it’s going to be for the weeks and months ahead. Now we just need to remember to enjoy them.

Madeleine

Are you ready for – and looking forward to – the new year? What does it hold for you?

Under the Ice socks knitalong part four: working the leg

Welcome to the fourth and final part of the Under the Ice socks tutorial. This week you’re going to work the leg and weave in those ends.

At the end of the last tutorial, you had just finished turning the heel. Now you need to place a stitch marker (to mark the start of each new round). I’ve used a scrap of white wool.

Then you need to knit two rounds, still working in the blue yarn. You’ll notice that there’s a little hole on either side of the heel. Don’t worry about this; we’ll deal with it later.

After two rounds of blue, it’s time to start striping. Insert your right needle into the first stitch of the next round, ready to knit. Lay your white yarn over your right needle, so that the tail is on the left.

Knit the first few stitches. You may need to go back and pull your ends tight. Carry on all the way around.

Then you need to pick up your blue yarn and start working with it again. Just pick it up and knit with it.

Make sure that your working white yarn runs up the inside of the sock.

After the specified number of rounds of blue, it’s time to knit with the white yarn again. Now, because you’ve knit a few rounds of blue, you don’t want to pull the white yarn too tight, or you’ll cause ruching up the side of your sock. So make sure that you leave enough white yarn to run up the inside of your sock and cover the distance of those blue rows.

Knit the specified number of rows of white.

Carry on in this way until you have finished the striping section.

Then cut your blue yarn, leaving a long tail.

Tuck the tail inside your sock and continue to knit, in white, until the leg is 2″ shorter than you want the finished sock to be.

Now it’s time to add the ribbing at the top of the sock. Knit the first two stitches, as usual.

Bring your working yarn to the front of your work, ready to purl:

and purl the next two stitches. Then move your working yarn to the back again, ready to knit. You can see that I’ve done this in the photo below.

Establish a 2×2 rib all the way around the sock. You should finish on 2 purl stitches. Then work 2 inches of the ribbing, all in white. You should always find yourself knitting into the knit stitches (the ones wearing v-necks) and purling the purl stitches (those sporting turtlenecks).

Once you’ve worked all that ribbing, it’s time to bind off. When binding off in rib – and I cannot emphasise this enough – you need to keep everything very very loose indeed. Otherwise you will not be able to stretch the top of your sock enough to get it on. So throughout all of the following bind-off steps, keep everything even looser than you think it needs to be.

Knit the first two stitches.

Bind off the first stitch that you knit by lifting it over the other stitch and right over and off the end of the needle. Now, the next stitch you need to work is a purl stitch, so move your working yarn to the front. You can see that I’ve done this in the photo below.

Purl the next stitch. Your working yarn will still be at the front of your work.

Now bind off the previous (knit) stitch by lifting it over the other (purl) stitch and over and off the end of the needle. The next stitch you need to work is a purl stitch, so keep your working yarn at the front of your work.

That’s it – you just carry on working one stitch at a time and binding off the previous stitch. Remember to check what your next stitch will be and move your working yarn forwards and backwards, just as you would if you were working ribbing normally.

When you get to the last stitch, cut your yarn with a tail of about 6″ and pull it through the final stitch.

Now you need to weave all those ends in. Weave the end you’ve just cut into the inside of the ribbing. You shouldn’t really be able to see it afterwards, even from the inside. Leave a little 0.5″ – 1″tail on each of your woven-in ends until after you’ve blocked and worn it, and then snip it off when everything has settled. I’ve done this to my sock, below.

Use the long blue tail to work your way down to the heel again. Use it to close the little hole on one side of the heel. Then work your way around the heel, stitching round the short row shaping and across the base of the heel, up the short row shaping and finally closing up the little hole on the other side. There’s no need to overdo it, especially in the heel (which would be uncomfortable to wear), but closing up the little holes like this does make the sock look really professional. You can see that I’ve done this, here:

When you’ve made both of your socks, soak them for half an hour or so in tepid (lukewarm) water. Then roll them in a towel and press on it, to removed the worst of the water. Leave them, spread on something flat, to dry. Then wear them! They will block to the shape of your feet, and be sublimely comfortable.

Then cast on for the next pair…

Madeleine

How did your first sock turn out?