The things you learn

I'm going to start by saying I've never done any tatting... yet. I've certainly thought about it. Every so often I see a tatting shuttle for sale and think "h'mm, maybe some time". But I already know other methods of making lace which are more versatile and, in my opinion, prettier, so I haven't been sufficiently motivated to go so far as to buy the shuttle and start teaching myself.

And so, for many years, that was basically what I knew about tatting. You needed a shuttle. That was basic - so basic it didn't even occur to me to wonder if there might be another method.

But there is another method. It turns out that you can do it with a needle.

I first found out about this on the sewing and crafts Discord server, and I was exceedingly intrigued. I did, it's true, already know that most things that are generally done with a shuttle can also be done with a needle, but you have to re-thread it more often, because the whole point of a shuttle is to carry a long length of thread/yarn/string in a convenient way so it doesn't get all tangled up while you're working with it. (A netting needle, while called a needle, is functionally a shuttle, and I wouldn't want to net with an actual needle, except maybe for extremely small pieces.) While you can buy specialist tatting needles, there's not much difference between one of those and an ordinary long darner, so if I do suddenly get the fit to try this - which is entirely possible, knowing me - I should be able to find a needle in my existing collection that works. As with knitting or crochet, the most important thing is to get the right thickness of needle for the thread you're using, but I expect the eye of the needle helps with that. As long as you can get the thread through the eye and it isn't flopping around inside it, it should be about right. (This may have to be updated and refined later; at the moment it's an educated guess.)

It also turns out that there is only one stitch in tatting, and it is... drum roll, please... none other than the lark's-head knot. One writer said it reminded her of something she called "kindergarten cast-on" in knitting; I assume she means casting on using half hitches, and if that's what she was taught in kindergarten then her teachers were clearly very enlightened. I was taught an extremely clumsy method of casting on; you began with a slip knot, then you knitted into that and put the new stitch over the left-hand needle, and so on till you had enough stitches. It didn't give a very nice edge and it was awkward to count, so when I discovered the half-hitch technique I enthusiastically adopted it and have never looked back (the only slight caveat with it is you have to remember not to pull the stitches too tight, but once you get used to that it's fine). It gives a much neater edge, and because it's such a quick method it's very easy to count the stitches as you go. However, when you cast on using half hitches, they do all go the same way, so it's a row of clove hitches; whereas with tatting they alternate so that you have your lark's-head knots. It is, in fact, precisely identical to the way I make the handles of my string bags; it's just executed differently and done to a much finer gauge.

So, you ask, what about the picots? It turns out that a picot isn't a stitch, as such. It's just what you get when you leave a short length of thread between two adjacent stitches and then bunch them up together. All the stitches are formed on the body of the needle and then pushed over the eye (so I'm guessing here that, once again, you don't want to pull them too tightly), so that they end up on a central core of thread. That's what holds them all in place and stops them unravelling.

I definitely need to give this a go some time, especially since the nets for the drama group are no longer quite so urgent; with all the faffing around asking me for rewrites, the group has now - to my huge relief - decided they want to give themselves more time to rehearse it, so they're not doing it around Christmas after all. That means that a) I am not fielding any panicking thespians, and b) the nets are not going to take up every minute of my crafting time that isn't baby hats or string bags from now to December. Which is just as well, because I also have one pair of socks to finish (those have been on the needles for most of the summer now); one chunky slipover to knit (though that should be quite a quick project); several pieces of SCA garb still; not to mention the strips to knit to do the yarn dyeing which I have not actually forgotten about. Oh, and let's not forget my favourite toddler's Christmas jumper, though he's a little more than a toddler now; he's three and a half. He's probably got a favourite colour now, so I must remember to ask his parents what that is. I would ask him, but he's not the greatest communicator; he's quite seriously autistic (he got the diagnosis just after his third birthday, by which time it was very apparent that he was formidably intelligent but not developing at anything like the same rate in other areas). Generally, if you ask him a question, he'll give you a lovely smile and that's it. But his parents will know what colours he likes.

But not today. Today is a string bag day!