I was musing the other day on the the Bible story of the Prophet Elisha and the bears, as told in 2 Kings 2:23-24. As you will doubtless recall, the prophet was on his way to minister to Bethel when he was mocked for his baldness by some children of the city: “And he turned back, and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the Lord. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them”. (What, I wonder, is the procedure, if no bears are available, and you have to find a substitute? I mean, the only animals I usually see from my window are sheep, but I’m pretty sure the local children could take them in a fight.)
Gone to seed
This is the sort of smiting that seems, regrettably, to have gone out of fashion, leaving children free to mock the follically challenged without fear of ursine dismemberment. But if you had that sort of power, what other sorts of high crimes and misdemeanours would you punish with it? As an archivist, the worst crime my profession faces is the loss of original documents, something which has happened all too frequently in the past, and even in the present too.
Take Edward I who captured Edinburgh in 1296 and removed the nation’s archives, shipping them south to London, where they somehow (*cough*) disappeared. Then Cromwell came along in 1650 and did it all again. This time they weren’t misplaced: instead, after the Restoration of the monarchy in 1660, they were actually being returned to Scotland, when the ship carrying the records sank in a storm off Northumberland. Or here’s another example: when Napoleon’s army invaded Russia in 1812 it was so badly prepared that, after the battle of Smolensk, French doctors had to use documents raided from the city’s archives as bandages. (I like to think that when the bandages were eventually removed the ink was transferred to the skin like a tattoo, so that Smolensk historians followed the French army around asking the soldiers if they’d remove their trousers so they could read their legs.)
The old gate
And as for anyone improperly withholding US government files from the National Archives, all I can say is, if I were the guilty party I’d be pretty nervous if I learned the FBI had requested the loan of a couple of she-bears from the Smithsonian National Zoo…
[Update to last week’s post: regrettably Margaret and I won’t now be attending Thursday’s craft event at Drumnadrochit owing to logistical challenges. We wish everyone involved a very successful event.]
Thistledown
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TECHNICAL STUFF
As you can see, I’ve now finished front and back, joined the shoulders, knit the collar and started on the first sleeve. I’ll say something about the sleeves next time.
The neckline isn’t shaped or indented at all, but is the traditional straight rectangle, and is the same front and back. I don’t usually worry too much about the exact number of stitches for the collar—so long as they can be divided by four for the k2-p2 ribbing, it doesn’t really matter. So for the first row of the collar I knit the stitches on the holders (i.e., the ones left over from front and back), and pick up stitches along the sides (the inside edges of the shoulder straps), aiming for roughly 8 stitches to the inch. I keep count as I go, so that I can finish with an exact multiple of 4 for the ribbing. Sometimes my counting goes awry, but it doesn’t matter: if I have one or two stitches too many, I can decrease them out of existence on the first pattern row of the collar (usually on a purl stitch, since the purl stitches are pushed to the background by the k2 ribs, and thus become invisible).
Gansey necks may have been a design for speed of knitting rather than comfort of wearing.
I’ve almost never seen anyone whose neck goes straight up from the middle of their shoulders. Not over the age of about three anyway. Most people I’ve seen would prefer the neck hole to be placed entirely on the front of the sweater.
It’s me again. The idea of reading the legs reminds me of a book, Fly by Night, by Frances Hardinge. It’s a children’s fantasy alternate universe history and in my seventies I like it [and all her other books]. You might like it too.
Hi Tamar, the non-shaped neckline and collar was one of the distinctive features of traditional ganseys.
I’ve read that this was so that fishermen could put them in in the dark without putting them on backwards, but given the fishing happened during the summer when it gets light up here soon after 3am, and in any case they went out to sea in the late afternoons, I’ve never been convinced. More plausible to me is the idea that, by being fully reversible, you don’t wear out the elbows so quickly. (But maybe it was just easier to knit!)
Thank you for the book recommendation!
Hello! I have a quick question. I’m about to start knitting my first gansey and plan to do the Whitby pattern, but start the pattern from the welt and have it all the way up (front and back) and not just on the yoke. Does this affect the fit and the amount of yarn needed, and is there a benefit in doing a couple of inches of plain knitting between the welt and the start of the pattern (as I’ve noticed you did on the Filey you did recently?)
Hi there, good questions. First of all, I’m not aware that knitting an all-pattern gansey has much of an effect on the amount of yarn used. Certainly I’ve never noticed it. The fit may depend on the pattern – a pattern which has lots of cables and purl columns, like the green Filey gansey I knit, naturally pulls in the width, so you just need to be aware of it in case it makes the body a bit too figure-hugging for comfort. (The yoke is usually more spacious, with the armholes and gussets.)
Speaking of the yoke, I do find that knitting garter stitch back and forth stretches my stitch gauge, sometimes from 8 down to as much as 7.5 stitches per inch. This can make the yoke too baggy, and is one reason why I prefer to knit jumpers with cables and/or purl columns.
As for leaving a couple of inches before starting the pattern, I do this partly because I’ve seen plenty of old photos where this was the norm, and I also like the look. But it’s practical too. As you increase on the first row after the welt, managing a shedload of increases while fixing your foundation row, the first row of the pattern, is (for me at least!) a recipe for disaster. I find it far easier to do the increases and then settle into the rhythm of knitting the body with plain knitting, and establishing the fake seams, for an inch or so before starting the pattern. (Some old ganseys start the pattern three or four inches from the welt; some Caithness ganseys have welt ribbing for 4-6 inches or more, even 12 inches, before starting the pattern.) But there’s no law that says you have to do it any particular way: just follow what works best for you!
Thanks so much, Gordon. And yes – working a couple of increases and setting the purl side seams before starting the pattern makes total sense. I will have a look at some pictures and see what looks good. I’m really enjoying reading your posts. 🙂