Edited to add: In case there’s any question, I posted this tutorial in the spirit of generosity.  It is copyrighted material, however, and thus no one is permitted to reproduce the pattern or the bags made from the pattern for profit without my express permission. Sorry if that seems brusque–just trying to protect my intellectual property.

So, you’ve made the first fabric box.  Now make the second one.

Some things to consider . . . is the pattern on the fabric you chose directional?  This one is.

Which is why I was careful to pay attention to the design as I sewed the sides on to the base.  It seems obvious, but you’re generally looking at the wrong side of fabric as you sew, so double-check, particularly if you’re using some sort of overcasting stitch like I do.  They’re hard to pick out.   With some patterns, I’d be careful to match the pattern more closely than I did here, but this pattern is  too fiddly.

Also, make sure your corners are closed tightly.

Remember how I said not to sew the seams connecting the sides to the base all the way to the edge, so that you’d be able to sew up the side seams without trouble?  Well, you don’t want to leave any holes, either.  Double check before you proceed.

You’ve now made the two boxes you need, so let’s move on to the straps.

Line up the two long pieces, right sides together; and the two short pieces, right sides together.  And stitch up the sides.

Notice how the machine thread is still attached to the first piece and I’m sewing the second?  That’s called chain piecing, and it saves thread and time.

Once the handle pieces are sewn, you need to turn them right side out.  I use this handy contraption:

It has a latch hook on the end.  You feed it into the strap, hook it in to the side seam, and pull back the way you came.

Once the straps are right side out, press them flat.

And then run a quick little seam along each of the ends of the straps.  This will serve to reinforce them in the finished bag.

And now we assemble the parts.

Turn one of the boxes inside out and nest it inside its mate.

Make sure the corner seams are lined up, and that the two boxes are fitting well together.  Now start pressing down the top hems.

Once the hems on the top of both boxes are even and pressed nicely, start pinning everything together.  You’ll want to place the straps on opposite sides of each other and fiddle with them until you like how they’re sitting, and then pin them in place while also lining up the pressed top edges of the two boxes.

To pin the suede lace in place, you’ll need to rely on friction rather than actually pinning through the suede.  The photo below is fuzzy, but you can see that the pin passes through the fabric close to either side of the lace.  Once you have everything pinned together, stand the bag up and make sure things look right.  If they don’t, adjust whatever needs it.

Now sew it together.  For this, I’m going to abandon my policy of using contrasting thread so you can see what I’m doing, and instead match thread as closely as I can to the sides of the bag.  In this instance, that’s a light blue for the top thread and a dark blue for the bobbin.

I’m using a straight stitch, sewing slowly, and pretty darn close to the edge of the bag.  Also, I go extra slowly over the suede laces, the side seams, and where the handles attach.  So, really, that’s most of the top seam.

And that’s it.  One bag down, nine million, nine hundred ninety nine thousand, nine hundred ninety nine to go.

Edited to add: In case there’s any question, I posted this tutorial in the spirit of generosity.  It is copyrighted material, however, and thus no one is permitted to reproduce the pattern or the bags made from the pattern for profit without my express permission.  Sorry if that seems brusque–just trying to protect my intellectual property.

You ask, so I give.

A few people asked for a tutorial on making these sock bags I’ve been churning out, so here you go.  I’ve also set up an etsy shop to sell a few, so if you want one and really hate sewing, check it out.  Also, this is a very picture-heavy post, so I apologize to anyone with a slow connection.  I am breaking the tutorial up into two posts so I don’t sink you all completely.

I make each bag out of small amounts of two cotton quilting fabrics, some cotton twill or denim, and a foot of leather thong.  I use scraps, because I have tons of them.  If you need to buy fabrics, two fat quarters* will be plenty for the exposed parts of the bag.  For the denim or twill, you only need a very small amount–one or two 6″ square pieces, depending on the thickness of the twill.  So buy a small remnant, no
matter how ugly; pester a friend who sews for some scraps; or chop up those trashed, holey jeans your mother doesn’t want you to wear anymore.

Supplies:
two fat quarters of quilting cottons in coordinating colors and prints
matching thread (one spool to match each quilting fabric)
Enough cotton twill to make one or two six inch squares
12 inches of coordinating leather thong or ribbon

Tools:
a self-healing mat (optional)
a rotary cutter with a sharp blade (optional)
shears
a six inch square (optional)
a straight edged ruler
an iron
pins
sewing machine (optional) or sewing needles

Let’s go.

Wash, dry, and press your fabrics.  I run a quick zig-zag stitch over the edges of fabric before washing it so it doesn’t fray too much in the machine and make a mess while washing.  It saves fabric and washing machine repairs.

Now let’s start cutting.

See that fraying?  If the folks at the fabric store tore the fabric rather than cutting it, you’ll find that the edges are a bit tattered and pulled off grain.  For a bag like this, that won’t be a huge problem, but I trim them off with the rotary cutter out of habit because it makes for better patchwork.  Geometric things are easier to assemble and sew if the edges are clean.

Also, I look seriously at scraps.  Anything below a certain size gets composted, and anything above a certain size goes back into the stash.  This piece wants to be part of a log cabin.

Cut five six inch square pieces out of each of your quilting cottons–those make up the box that is the body of the bag.

And cut one or two six inch squares of twill, depending on how sturdy you want the base of the bag to be.  I want mine to be burly, so I’m using two.

Now cut the strips for the handles.  You need one that’s two and 1/2 inches wide and 10-12 inches long (your choice) in each fabric, and one that’s two and  1/2 inches wide and six to eight  inches long in each fabric–that’s a total of four  two and 1/2 inch wide strips, two long and two short.

Now we start assembling.

Line up a piece of twill to one of the squares of quilting cotton.  In this instance, you want the front of the quilting cotton facing out–this is unusual.

Now sew them together all the way around

with a straight stitch, leaving a narrow seam allowance.

You’ve just added a reinforcing lining to the bottom of the bag.  Now flip it over, line up a square of the same quilting cotton on top of the base, with the right sides of the print facing each other, and sew them together along one side.

A few things: first, I’m using a dark thread so you can see what I’m doing.  You should match your thread to your fabrics.  Second, see how I didn’t start the line of stitching right at the corner?  That’s important.  You want to start and stop your stitching a bit in from the edges to you can sew all four sides together neatly.  Third: I’m using a combined straight and zigzag because I am very paranoid about fraying.  You can do the same if you like, but you don’t necessarily have to unless you decide to use linen instead of cotton.  Linen must have all of the edges over locked or bound or it will fray away to nothing and break your little heart.  Ask me how I know.

Sew on the other three sides in the same way.

And now sew the four sides together at the corners, and turn it right side out.

There’s the first box of two.

Now do it again with the other quilting cotton.

Part two of the tutorial is here.

* A fat quarter is a chunk of fabric marketed to quilters.  To make a fat quarter, someone will cut a half yard of fabric and then split it vertically instead of horizontally–hence a fat quarter, as opposed to a skinny quarter, cut from selvage to selvage.  The size of a fat quarter varies from shop to shop, but most are either 18′ to 20″ high and 21″ wide.

I’ve been making small things, quickly.  You’ll have to forgive the flash photography–no sun in Virginia today.  The colors aren’t quite right, but you’ll get the point.

All of the bags I made this weekend have the same basic dimensions.  I made several of the shorter, square version because it just seems good for socks, and I like how most of these stand at attention if I decide to sit them on a table and open them up.  And the 5 and 1/2 or 6 inch square bases fit  standard DPNs nicely.

This one was a labor of love.  The patterned fabric is a rayon print covered with images from Alice in Wonderland.  I cut it off the bottom of a very long dress I got as a teenager, and I dole the remaining scraps out very slowly.  I think I still have the dress hiding in a closet somewhere.  If rayon was easier to keep on grain, I’m sure I would have hacked it up and used it for something else by now.  This bag isn’t as crisp as I’d like, and it was a pain to force into something geometric, but the fabric is unbeatable.  I used a blue twill as a lining to give the bag some body.

See how nicely the needles fit?

This bag makes me think of Charles Rennie Mackintosh and William Morris.
Green side:

And purple:

I love how crisp it is.  And this bag, which makes me think of a Scot and a Brit, is stuffed with Welsh yarn.  I guess I owe a bag to Ireland and Cornwall and Mann and Brittany and Galicia . . .

Partially finished bags include one of water:

And one of coffee:

And one of leaves:

And one of, er, a batik I really really love that is in a pattern that’s been in use for thousands of years and some deep purple silk noile, so let’s blame this one on the Silk Road:

Also, I made a Baby Surprise Sweater.  Yarrow chomped on the yarn a lot before I started the sweater, so that forced the random striping.  Unfortunately, there are still some weak spots in the yarn, and there are really a lot of ends hidden in this,  so I don’t think it’s fit for an actual baby.

It is, however, perfect for a stuffed duck.  And since one of my nieces has a serious jones for some duck clothes, it’s a rather serendipitous item.  I developed a strong understanding of an iconic pattern that I can now repeat in undamaged yarn, and, er, a stuffed duck will feel very pampered.  Now to find the right buttons.

You know what’s even better than working from home?  Being informed that the powers-that-be want you to charge eight hours but only work five.  I never ever ever want to go to an actual office again, I’m so spoiled now.

Today’s early quitting time could not be a nicer gift.  Since Scott and I grew up in this part of Virginia, we anxiously await stealing time with all of our far-flung friends who decide to come home and visit their folks over Thanksgiving.  Which means that I start thinking about possible guests and what they may want.  Which means I start obsessing about the house and cooking.  I know that none of our friends or relatives will perform any white-glove tests in our home, or demand a specific food, but taking care of this huge, valuable present Scott and I bought each other seven years ago is never a bad idea, and I use welcoming  people I love as an excuse.

I also try to use some of that manic energy to improve parts of the house that only matter to me, since I’m here far more than any of our friends or family.  To that end, I decided that the closet in my studio needed an overhaul.  It’s a crappy closet, as most closets built into knee-walls are.  I tore every single thing out of it, banished old shoes and clothes, donated bags and bags of clothing and shoes Scott and I don’t need anymore, and re-purposed some old shoe shelving to hold spinning supplies.

For the first time, this frustrating closet, with the worst hanging system in the world, a small door that offers poor access to the sloping right side, and a puny shelf above is actually working the way I want it to.

The ironing board is accessible, the only things hanging on the nearly-useless j-bar are a few garments I need to mend or iron, and my spinning and felting fibers are all laid out on labeled (labeled!) shelves.  In the section hiding to the right are whole fleeces waiting for processing.  Now, I just need a working doorknob to protect all that fiber from a wool-stealing cat.

The camera and the computer are talking again, so let me get the show and tell over with.  Boogie dyed up some fantastic yarn for me to use in my blanket.  It came this afternoon, and I’m afraid it’s way too gorgeous for the blanket.  Thankfully, Ruadhan was at the house when it came, and she exudes a great amount of knitting reason.  She agrees that the yarn has a higher calling.

Not that I don’t love the blanket–I do.  But this yarn needs to be featured–it’s a front and center kind of yarn, not a supporting, structural, acceptable yarn.  Maybe some patterned knee socks are in my future.  Or a shawl.  This would be a gorgeous shawl.  Something else will finish the edging.

This is what I bought at the retreat:


Some beautiful roving, green laceweight, and green sock yarn from Jen, and some raspberry Claudia Handpaints and some blue Jitterbug.  I’m really excited to finish spinning my current fiber so I can move on to what Jen made.  It’s so much deeper and more satisfying than the Lorna’s candy floss I’m playing with now, which I’d been avoiding for ages. 

This is the sock yarn that came off the stash table.  Blanket two is going to be made up of only watery colors.  Some of these bits may have other uses too, though.  Like that skein of wool/tencel on the right.

And this is where the blue got really powerful.

The two columns on the left are all wool/silk that Rosi brought.  They want to be made into   . . . . something lacey and maybe mobius-y.  Yep, English major powers are strong today.

And these were in the goodie bag we received upon arrival.  Along with Vogue Knitting on the Go Socks Two, a knitting audiobook, and some Lantern Moon Circs. 

I may never buy yarn again.

For a week and a half, I get to work from home.  Sorry–I don’t mean to rub it in.  But few things make me happier.  I’m giddy, I tell you.  And dressed like a homeless woman, or a whimsical girl’s doll.  But with hand-knits.  Unmatched hand-knits, and pink pajama pants with dogs on them.  I should get my aviator goggles just for effect and go outside to confuse the neighbors.

They’re replacing carpet and repainting most of the walls in our building, and the effects on folks with  allergies and asthma were less than ideal.  A few of us made a recon mission to a lower floor to see how bad the dust and fumes were, and I got a really awesome sinus headache for my trouble.  Tuesday, I went in to our office and made sure I had everything I would need, and just sitting at my desk a floor above the nearest worksite made me sneeze 27 times in a row.  I know because the guy in the next cubicle counted.  And laughed at me.  But offered to watch my plants, so it’s cool.

So on these several wonderful days, I get to plug in about 45 minutes after I normally leave for my hour-plus commute, work for several hours, and then agonize about whether I want to have lunch with my husband or take my dog to the park, and then plug back in for a few hours, and enjoy my afternoon commute 15 feet to the kitchen.   To make everything better, we’re actually getting some of the rain we’ve needed so desperately AND I’m not using gas or eating out, both of which make me nearly sanctimoniously gleeful, if that’s possible.

I tentatively unpacked the yarn and fiber from the KR Retreat yesterday afternoon.  It may exceed the storage space I’ve alloted for each.  I don’t like to exceed the storage space.  It makes me twitchy.  I thought I’d be fine because I brought a lot to give away, and I only bought sock and lace yarns, neither of which take up much room.  But some of my friends were really shopping the give-away tables for me.  There was a lot of blue-acquisition taking place on my behalf.  Also, the goodie bags that Clara hands out at the Retreat are increasingly generous–needles, books, yarn.  And one of the classes came with its own yarn.  I better get knitting.  I would show you, but somehow my computer and my camera decided to stop speaking to each other overnight.

Last Thursday, I filled the car with wool and tools, plugged my GPS system into the lighter, and drove drove drove all the way up to Lenox, Massachusetts for my second Knitter’s Review Retreat.  As usual, I took far fewer pictures than I intended.  The inn we stayed in was lovely, I learned so much from those knitters and spinners–teachers and classmates alike, and dozens of wonderful people filled my ears with laughter throughout the long weekend.

Our protectors at the Inn:

The assembled masses:

Clara and Martha, though I’m not doing either of them real justice here.

Laughing friends (Beth, Rosi, Nancy, Rho)

Actual spinning progress (been a while, huh?) with a particularly enjoyable green transition there in the middle:

A couple of the merchants:

A side-trip to Webs (where the mighty Lanea bought nothing but a can of root beer)

The requisite leaves

It was a wonderful trip.  I can’t wait to do it again.

It’s official.  My mind has emptied out everything except combining fabric scraps to make fun little bags with overlapping handles and interesting fabrics.  This one is a commercial patchwork lined with a really lovely linen-cotton blend I used to clothe a few of my favorite Celts this summer.  I previously used some of the outer fabric in a crochet-hook case I made for my dear friend Bevin and a vest I made for our Mongol-obsessed friend Udutai.  Using scraps I associate with loved ones makes me downright giddy, I say.  Woot.

For you detail-oriented folks, I made this bag 9" tall and 5 and 1/4" in diameter, because that’s plenty of room to hold one full skein of Trekking XXL, one completed kilt ho (Aes told me to call it that, and I’m trying to be obliging here, but it hurts my word-loving brain), needles, and notions.  I’ll probably design a smaller one, for people who make normal socks.  Not that I just accidentally started a business venture, because that would be crazy.

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee makes me move very fast.  I’m going to vote, and then knit with some friends, and drink more coffee.

I’m one of those people who knows a lot about global geography but gets lost on the way to her best friend’s house, and plans at least an extra hour of travel time for unexpected detours.  Since I go on a fair number of road trips by myself, and since I make an even worse passenger-navigator now than I was before the knitting, I finally broke down and bought a portable navigation system just in time to drive to Massachusetts next weekend for the Knitters Review Retreat. 

The addition of that little puppy makes for a veritable tentacle-fest in my purse or glove box, however, so I thought a lovely little bag for all of the gadgetry would be in order.  I knew I wanted to make it myself out of stuff I already had, that it should be big enough to hold the nav system, my phone and charger, and my ipod and its cords, and possible more electrical nonsense if the need arises, that it should be velcro free (most knitter’s things should), and that it should be easy to close and carry.  La.

That’s one of the best quilting cottons I’ve ever found, and I am really surprised I was brave enough to use it on an experimental pattern.  I love the birch leaves and the shadows.  Ahhhh.  The lining is a linen leftover from a previous sewing project, and it’s got some good heft to it.  I also put a square of twill inside the base to add some structure to it.

I really like this concept.  Instead of two equally-sized wrist straps, it has a long one, which threads through a short loop.  I also added some leather ties, which I just sewed in place as I joined the lining to the outer fabric. I figure they’ll make things less likely to escape, and they also make the bag look more polished when it’s closed.

And there’s my new toy.  She will save me so much heartache and stress. 

The sewing was a nice break from the knitting.  I have a feeling I’m going to make a very similar bag tomorrow to hold my sock knitting.  I love how quickly sewn projects come together.  Particularly since cellulose-based materials are apparently immune to attack from Yarrow the Wool-Destroyer. I decided to dig up some yarn to make a baby surprise jacket to add to the charity knitting pile at the KR Retreat next weekend, but apparently Yarrow had his way with the yarn first.

The blue stuff got the brunt of his wrath.  It’s pretty chewed up in many many places.  I’m trying to use it as a stripe here and there, but most of the lengths I’m finding are too sort for a single width of stitches.  Blasted cat.  And as if that weren’t bad enough, he hopped into my lap this morning while I was scratching out some plans for my fun new gadget bag and immediately tried to chew on my Irish Twist cardigan right there in my lap, as I was wearing it.   You’d think he’d realize cats can’t be punk rockers, no matter how hard they try.

As far as the blanket is concerned, I think my plan will work.  Here’s a square with the double i-cord edging.  It’s not tacked down yet, because I’m trying not to waste work while I’m waiting for the final yarn to be ready.  I am looking forward to curling up with this blanket this winter, but also pretty concerned for its safety around Yarrow. 

And there’s another boring elegant, simple sock in the works.  I’m using Trekking Natura, which I really like so far.

I prefer to avoid synthetics in my yarn, and the bamboo definitely feels nicer in the hand than nylon does.  I’m not sure how they’ll react to water.  This yarn seems to be significantly thinner than standard Trekking, but I don’t know how much it blooms or how durable it will be.  Regular Trekking isn’t the softest stuff to knit with, but it blooms beautifully and wears really well.  I hope the same is true of this.  The sock seems a little limp, though, even on 2mm needles.

Finally, the Yorks’s huge fun annual Halloween Party was yesterday, and we had a blast.  Of course.  For once, I made a costume that I thought was witty and that made sense to other people.  Anyone who remembers when I went to a Halloween party as this guy knows what I mean. 

I couldn’t get many decent photos, what with the darkness and the crowds, but most of the cast of Firefly was there; as was the Empire State Building, complete with King Kong and Fay Ray; the requisite Star Wars/Trek/meta-Geek costumes; a number of the folks from Harry Potter; Prince Hal/HenryV,

(Chip York, one of our hosts, is a photographer–I’m sure he took a much better picture, but he sure has handy settings around for this kind of stuff). Luckily, we also had protection against zombies.

Can’t be too careful, these days.

Every Samhain is about autumn, and harvest, and friendship for us.

This year was also about puppies: this is Maggy.  She and her sister Molly moved in with Scaigheagh’s family.

And horses.  I particularly love greys and dapples.

Horses particularly love cider, and Scott.

(See that pole way in the background?  That’s the Maypole we raised last spring, and later that afternoon, it became part of a big old wickerman.  Fire.  We like fire.  )

But it was also a very important homecoming.  Arundel got to come home from Iraq for a few weeks.  It was wonderful to see our friend safe and home with his family and friends.  And, also, hitting his friends with sticks, wearing a sigil of his tribe that he can carry back across the world with him.

Care for your people, particularly your soldiers and sailors, and keep each other safe.  We play at war on the weekends, but some people have to really engage in it, sans rules and time-outs and do-overs.

Take care of your tribe, whoever they are.