Heraldic relic pouch in-progress

Several months ago, at Christmas Revel, Her Highness Emma (she has since become "Her Majesty") complimented a knitted wool pouch I had in my basket.  Well, when you say nice things to craftspeople, sometimes you get nice surprises.  I decided to design and knit a relic pouch as a commemorative token of her reign.  Her personal arms I found on OSCAR, a society-wide heraldry database; the stag chart came from a late-16th century German needlework book, the floral motif was inspired by similar charts in the same needlework book and extant pieces of heraldic knitting such as a Spanish cushion featured in Rutt's A History of Hand Knitting, and the oak leaves and crowns were designed by me, though a trial and error.  At Gulf Wars I took a class on knitted pouches, and the teacher pointed out the utility of incorporating simple horizontal bands to give the composition structure.  After arranging the major design elements, I added in the checkerboard bands to separate the pattern blocks and add some height to the finished piece.

The extant relic pouches and cushion mentioned above were knitted of very fine silk.  As much as I would enjoy the challenge of knitting with silk, my budget absolutely does not allow it.  As a substitution, I chose to work with 5/2 mercerized cotton (purchased from a Gulf Wars vendor), which has a sheen similar to silk, and is not as likely to stretch as wool.  The ground color is a deep royal blue, which would have been achieved in period by dyeing with indigo, and the foreground color is a vivid gold, which can be produced from a number of different flowers or yellow onion skins.  Cotton and other plant fibers are less apt to absorb enough natural dye to hold a deep hue than protein fibers such as wool or silk, but the commercial dyes used to produce the materials I purchased mimic the aesthetic results a dyer could achieve with silk and the proper plant dyes.

That's all for today.  I leave you with a pair of pictures, one showing the public side of the work, and the other showing the inside, which will soon be covered with a lining to prevent the floats from snagging.

Fiber Prep: Tools of the Trade

While it may appear I've been in hibernation for a while, I have, in fact, been accumulating a stash of raw wool and the tools to clean and process it into yarn.

Combs:
Wool combs are great for removing second-cuts of fiber and vegetable matter from washed fleece.  They're also great for separating the longer, coarser outer coat from the shorter, finer, downy under-coat of dual-coated fleeces.  The usable fibers can be pulled off through a diz to create a thin roving for worsted spinning, or pulled off by hand for carding into a rolag or batt.  There is more waste involved in combing than carding, but the end product is less likely to contain nepps, noils, and bits of trash from the pasture.  English combs can have as many as four or five rows of tines, and are very heavy (and pricy), but supremely effective for processing long wools.
For good quality at a reasonable price (and no months-long waiting time), I like Valkyrie combs.  I currently have a pair of their single-pitch fine mini combs.  (Wish list: Valkyrie double-pitch vine mini combs and combing pad.)

Hand cards:
These are used to blend fibers and create rolags (rolled-up tubes of loosely aligned fibers) for woolen spinning.  The supply of hand cards is (anecdata alert!) a bit more abundant than combs, and they can generally be purchased new for between $50-75 per pair.  I use a pair of Ashford curved-paddle carders, bought second-hand through Ravelry.

Spindles:
Hand spindles, supported spindles, and drop spindles have been used for eons to spin fibers into yarn, cord, rope, etc.  They are generally inexpensive (heck, if you have a turnip and a skewer you have a spindle), but some specialty spindles can cost upwards of $75 each.  I'd recommend that new spinners start out on spindles, because of their affordability, portability, and mechanical simplicity.  I've taught somebody to draft fiber while using a wheel, but it wasn't quick or easy.  The only real down-sides to spindle spinning are the stop-and-go pace of spinning a thread until your arm just can't stretch any more and having to stop to wind it onto the spindle shaft, and the potential for arm and shoulder strain if you simply refuse to stop spinning before having to raise your fiber-supply hand above chest level.

Spinning wheels:
The spinning wheel sacrifices the portability of the spindle for greater endurance, allowing the spinner to work for a greater length of time, and possibly produce more yardage per minute than s/he might on a spindle.  Spinning wheels fall into two families, spindle wheels and flyer wheels.  Spindle wheels are, in essence, a spindle mounted to a frame and attached by a drive band to a larger wheel.  By holding the fiber at an angle nearly parallel to the spindle shaft, the single is spun, and by switching to an angle perpendicular to the shaft the single is wound onto it.  With practice, this allows the spinner to spin and wind continuously.  I don't have one of these.  Yet.
Flyer wheels do the spinning and winding at the same time - the turning of the flyer (a mechanism with a metal shaft and a pair of arms that resemble a wishbone) twists the thread, which is fed onto the bobbin through hooks on the flyer arms, and the speed differential between the bobbin and the flyer pulls the thread onto the bobbin.  There's a bit of math involved if a spinner wants to get really technical about whorls and ratios, and whether double-drive or Irish tension or Scotch tension is the best setup for a particular spinning project.  But that's further down the rabbit hole than we're going to venture today.  Spindle wheels are documentable in-period, as are hand- or crank-driven flyer wheels.  There is currently debate about the period-correctness of wheels that employ a treadle mechanism to power the drive wheel.  I have the Babe Pinkie wheel that I wrote about previously, and now a very nice American Civil War -era Saxony flax wheel that I re-homed from a spinner in Alabama who is unable to continue spinning due to arthritis in her treadling leg.
Spinning wheels come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and materials.  Some, like Critter, my Pinkie wheel, are designed to have small footprints or fold up for ease of transportation (still doesn't fit in a small purse, though), while others are quite large, such as Appalachian great wheels, which can stand shoulder-height or more to an adult.  Functional wheels can be constructed out of inexpensive or recycled items (search for "Dodec wheel plans").  Commercially-manufactured wheels are available in a wide array of styles and price points, and spinners often sell wheels second-hand when a "herd" has become unmanageable, or if they've simply outgrown a particular wheel, or it doesn't jive with their spinning style or decor.  Novices are not advised to choose an antique wheel as their first purchase, since these can be quirky (or cranky!) and most have been out of commission for an extended length of time need to be repaired or reconditioned before they become cooperative.

Niddy-noddy:
Kinda looks like two T-squares stuck together.  This tool is used to wind yarn off the bobbin and into skeins, as well as giving the spinner a good yardage estimate for that particular skein.  Again, maths.

Well, those are the basic tools.  I'm going to go ahead and post the text now, and slide in some photos later.  Off to get dressed for the weekly spinning session at the local yarn shop.