The "Spinner" hat and the third chapter of Woven Stories: The Legacy of the Fates. "Justine and the Spinning Wheel"

...and December arrived. The grand finale of the year, the month of Christmas, gatherings, dinners, and uncorking.

But also the month that encourages us to look back and reflect on what we have chosen to "cultivate" during the four seasons, what goals we have pursued, what we have decided to love or let go of. A year, a cycle... a whole story, a whole life.

For this writer, it has been an intense cycle... many beginnings, many attempts, changes, and movement.

Fifi, my alter ego, has taken shape, like the little caterpillar in the chrysalis, finally emerging into the world, shy at times, silent, but present, breathing.

That's why this "Spinner" or "knitter" hat is not only a creative challenge where I mix different stitches and textures, it is also a tribute to this cozy creative corner that has been taking shape throughout the year.

This time, I didn't have time to complete a fully comprehensive pattern, but I can tell you a little about how I made it.

Hat Instructions

For this hat, I used a blend of superwash merino wool, yak, and silk from @coloscowoolfibers, in the colors agüerro, mar, and royisco (DK weight).

For the Elastic Band:

The final width of the elastic is 8 stitches.

Starting (Width): Chain 10 Ch. (8 stitches for the width + 2 Ch for turning/extra).

Row 1 (Base Row): Hdc in the third Ch from the hook, and then 1 Hdc in each remaining Ch. You should have 8 Hdc.

Row 2 (Ribbed Elastic): Chain 2 Ch (does not count as a stitch), turn your work. Hdc BLO in each stitch from the previous row until the end. You should have 8 Hdc BLO.

Repetition: Repeat Row 2 (2 Ch, turn, 8 Hdc BLO) until you reach the necessary length for your head circumference.

Joining (Elastic Closure): Bring the ends of the strip together. Join both sides by making 1 Sl St (Slip Stitch) into each stitch, passing the hook through the back loop only (BLO) of both sides at once.

Finishing: When done, Ch 1 and cut the yarn, fastening off.

For the Hat Body:

For the body of the hat, I used stitch #230 from the book "The new crochet stitch dictionary" by Nele Braas and Eveline Hetty-Burkart.

The first round is alternating Sc (Single Crochet), the second is Dc (Double Crochet), and finally, a third round of Sc with Front Post Double Crochet (FPdc). Rounds 2 and 3 are repeated and the color is changed.

Then, incorporating the agüerro color again, I did a few rounds with decreases and popcorn stitch. I finished by adding a red button.

And if you'd like to accompany your project with a story:

Here is the Video of the latest chapter of

Woven Stories: The Fates' Legacy.

Chapter Transcription. "Justine and the spinner".

Justine was sleeping in the guest room at Fiona’s mansion. Through a small gap in the room's curtains, a warm ray of sun streamed in, announcing the dawn like a caress on the girl's skin. She woke up slowly, gradually sat up, and, stumbling with sleep, walked towards the round window. There, she contemplated how the cliff opened up into an abyss that led to the great blue immensity. Hypnotized by the rhythm of the waves, she felt the vibration produced by the waves dragging against the gray, slate-like rocks. The crests of the waves seemed to lick those enormous stones in a frenetic kiss, swallowing some toward the tide. Justine reacted when she heard her mobile alarm sound. She quickly got dressed and went down to the living room where she had left Fiona the night before. As she descended those elegant stairs, she wondered what kind of errand the poor, dying woman would need this time.

Upon reaching the sofa where the old woman had reclined the night before, she froze. Beneath the large blanket the old woman herself had woven, there was only a great body of light. The old woman's shapes were hinted at by the relief of the blanket, but Justine could see neither her face nor her limbs—only a cluster of dense light.

She ran to the bathroom, thinking she was hallucinating. Her pulse was intense and fast; she could feel the pounding of her heart echoing throughout her body. She splashed cold water on her face and looked in the mirror, "Am I going crazy?" she thought.

Taking a breath, she tried to compose herself and return to the sofa, trying to convince herself that it had probably been a reaction to the exhaustion of the past few weeks, or a hallucination from a drop in glucose...

Again, she rounded the corner that led to the large armchair. There, she found the old woman again, who seemed to be dozing. Fiona woke up and, babbling slightly, worried about her condition:

— “You seem frightened, my child.”

— “It's nothing, Fiona, I think I'm just a little dizzy, that’s all.”

— “There’s nothing a good breakfast can’t fix, right?” “Go to the kitchen and serve yourself whatever you like. I’d appreciate it if you could bring me some tea too.”

— “Of course, I’ll be right back, you relax and rest,” said Justine, almost stammering.

After a few minutes, Justine returned with tea, pastries, crusty bread, various pâtés, butter, boiled eggs, and varieties of chocolate. Justine was hungry and enjoyed every bite of those delicacies.

“You see, Justine,” Fiona said. “We must make many preparations. The Christmas dinner is approaching, and it would be a good occasion to gather here, you, me, all the knitters/crocheters in the group, and some of my collaborators. I need your help with the invitations and the dinner planning, as in my condition, there is little I can do. Don’t worry about all this, you have plenty of time.”

“What does concern me is that you go visit Michael.”

“Michael?” Justine said. “Who is he…..?”

“Michael is the one who provides me with the wool. He washes, cards, spins, and lovingly prepares much of the wool that I then dye. He is someone very special, Justine, you have to meet him.”

“Take him this scarf I have woven for him.” Fiona handed her a beautiful, exquisitely soft scarf in carmine red and navy blue. It had delicate embroidery in gold thread, appearing like a language, but which Justine could not understand.

“His farm is not far, and I think you will like the place. Here is his address.” On a note, Fiona had written: “The Old Sentinel Road, Last Spindle before the Sea.”

“While you take care of this, I will write the guest list and leave you some notes, so you can work later.”

Justine bid Fiona goodbye and exited through the mansion’s auxiliary exits. There, she paused for a few seconds before a back garden that bid her an intimate farewell, nestled under the protection of healthy heather with small purple flowers. The exit led toward the old road that wound toward the great estate of Mist Farm. She felt guilty for leaving Fiona alone in the mansion, thinking something might happen to her and she wouldn’t be there to help.

Breathing in the damp breeze coming from the cliffs, she put on her headphones and headed decisively toward the ancient road. The narrow path seemed to be marked by the area's native vegetation. Lost in thought, she reviewed the last five years of her life while fixing her gaze on the plants she encountered along the way. As she looked at the foxgloves and pines, she left behind the bad times before meeting Fiona. Then she found ivy hugging the old, crumbling walls that had survived as decrepit ruins and wondered what secrets those structures might hold, what stories they could tell. She walked and walked, enjoying the distant seascape. After a few minutes, the path began to fill with wild violets and yarrow. Looking up, she began to see groups of sheep grazing peacefully, oblivious to everything. In the distance, the stables and a building resembling an old rectory or manor house could be seen. She understood that she had arrived at Michael’s farm. She opened the gate, and a Border Collie ran toward her, barking. It stared intensely at her and then ran toward the house.

She continued walking, remembering the incident from the morning, when she had seen that nebulous light where Fiona should have been. As an ashy crow took flight, a man with wheat-colored hair and gray eyes came out of the house. He was of opulent and imposing figure and striking beauty, as if a God had abandoned war to become fond of and accustomed to the daily earthly pleasures. He placed an axe near a pile of firewood and sat down next to his spinning wheel to spin yarn.

Cautiously, Justine, from a distance, raised her voice to ensure he perceived her presence: “Hello, my name is Justine, I’m here from Fiona. She gave me this for you.” Unsure of the awkward situation, she displayed the scarf like someone waving a white flag.

He looked at her and, with a slight, kind smile, said, “I know who you are, I’ve heard about you. Come in, and we will talk inside.” And standing up, he stepped forward to guide her toward the main entrance of the house…

Leave me a comment and tell me what you think! Until next time.