Make Do and Mend

Nothing like driving rain and 11C in mid-May, no? This spring has been cold. I'm sick of cold. I'm sick of not knowing that I can count on a bit of sun and warmth. One day it's 22C and bright and I feel my spirit relent. The next, there's chance of flurries. (Just want to keep up with my hateful TO weather diary - don't want y'all to feel that we've got lucky here.)

Of course, it predisposes one to sit on the couch and knit (or to make up a new quick dress). A propos of this, I'm hoping that I can print out the Kielo Dress this morning. Scott's printer is acting up so keep your fingers crossed. If I can, then it's likely I'll be able to make the dress before I go to see my parents in NC on Monday. One thing I'll say about NC - it's well situated for freakin' gorgeous weather. Note: I'm not suggesting that it will be gorgeous when I'm there because I'm superstitious.

As mentioned, if I'm able to print the pattern, I'll hack it off above the knee (I mean, carefully ensure that I maintain the tulip lines while shortening it by a good foot). I'll also follow my own knit sloper armscye (and bust width). What I'm wondering is whether I'll need to sew the dart at the bust if I actually cut according to my T shirt bust (which doesn't have darts). I suspect yes, cuz without a sleeve I'll need the shaping. But I'm not thrilled at the prospect of downward slanting darts. Here's the thing, this project is about not overthinking - not creating an artificial issue. So I'm going to get with a down slope dart if that's what's called for.

I'm currently working on 2 knitting projects - neither of which I can photograph because the weather is dusk-dark given the rain.

One is my second version of the Circular Vest (aka Balboa Waistcoat), which is a joy to knit. The other is a CRAZY pair of socks.

How and why are the socks so crazy? Well, it's not because I'm using a new sock pattern. I'm still attached to my Simple Sock (stockinette, top down, basic). It's that I've opted to do more freakin' colour striping. And, this time, just to make things more lively, I've used 2 self-striping yarns that have fuck all to do with one another - except that they are of the same brand.

These yarns, Regia war-horse which last forever (I know, I've been wearing the blue pair weekly for 3 years), aren't the most gorgeous colourways. To wit - here are the socks they produced originally (1 yarn, 1 sock):

I know - not my best choices from a stripe perspective.

You'd imagine that to combine them in a 1:1.5 ratio (I have 33% more of the brown/teal than the blue/grey) would be horrible. But I want to practice my yarn carry-up on socks and there's no better way to do it than with a 2-row / 3-row split in yarns that are so freakin' busy you can't tell what's going on. (Mind you, I'm still so bad at carry-up that I may never do this stripe ratio again because, if in future I don't carry up, I'll have to weave in ends and I will not do that every 2 rows.) Furthermore, when the universe throws you the perfect amount of yarn - well, slightly less than perfect but workable - you go for it. This is a stash-busting dream.

Yeah, I also know - hideous socks are hideous even if you do use up all your yarn.

Here's the amazing thing, and you'll see this when I take a shot of the final result: These self-striping yarns are less hideous, when combined again in manual stripes, than each is on its own. Don't misunderstand, they're skirting a "socks only a mother could love" vibe, but I love the integration. I love the practicality. Whenever I knit socks to use up stash, I am transported mentally to another time and place - specifically WW2-era England.

Those wartime ladies knit the shit out of scrap yarns and created warm, necessary things for their families and soldiers in a time when everything was scarce. (Note: Apparently by WW2 there were standards about how these women knitted for the soldiers - which seems a bit obnoxious, frankly - but the point stands.) And I wish we felt this way about resources now.

Hilarious and weird side note: When I lived in England in the 80s, I went to visit a co-boarder friend at her home in London. It was a totally amazing place (though I cannot remember the neighbourhood). Let's just say, the house was huge, over multiple narrow floors, but the 'hood was having a bad moment. I'm sure it's been so gentrified at this point that their home would sell for 6 million pounds today. At any rate, my friend lived with her parents and grandparents there, when she wasn't at school. Her gparents had lived through WW2, natch. While were were looking around (cuz I LOVE to look around fantastic houses), we went into the coach house at the back of the garden (it was ancient) and found a tin of salmon from the wartime, wedged between some shelves. It had been there for 40 years at least. I was amazed, in that way that only new-world people can be, and my friend brought the tin into the house to show her grandfather. No word of a lie, he opened it on the spot - it did look entirely normal, fwiw - and he ate it!! I was ASTOUNDED and horrified. But the guy was fine. BTW, I'm sure this place was one of my formative architectural influences. The tall, skinny Victorian is still my fave.

So that's my weekend so far. Here's to wasting not.

Finished Object: A Simple Sock (Made Less Simple)

If you want to take an easy knit and make it difficult, add some striping. Specifically, add stripes to a small diameter tube (i.e. socks). Because, in addition to making sure that you switch up your colours appropriately (and this is somehow harder to remember than you'd imagine), you need to do special things to ensure that your yarn colour will carry up (or else you're going to have to cut the yarn and weave it in at the end). You'll also want to ensure that you won't get a jog at the stitch where the stripes change colour.

I'm not going to go into too much technical detail.

• Lots of blogs will tell you how to do the jogless jog (just google it). 

• Lots of blogs will tell you how to carry up your yarn as you switch colours. Intriguingly, the process of wrapping the yarn as you carry up seems to be very personal - and almost a kind of magic. If you wrap in one direction, with one yarn over the other, you'll see the wrong-colour yarn peek through to the front of the work. But there doesn't seem to be any clear way to prevent this. It's person-specific. Trust me, I've read a lot (even the instructions that tell you that there is one way), and they didn't work. You'll be able to do this, but it'll probably take practice (unless you get lucky).

What I am going to do, in this post, is talk about what it's like to make striped socks from 3 different skeins of yarn (having 3 different, solid colours).

Guess I might as well introduce the main event:

Some things to note:

• I actually did math to ensure that I'd use up every bit of the relevant fingering yarns. I know that I consistently use 75 grams of fingering yarn to make a pair of socks. I had 34g of the Tosh Sock, 25g of the Koigu blue and 16g of Koigu purple. I know. Freaky. (Of course, it would have been easier to have had the same amount of each but c'est la vie.)

• Alas, this means I couldn't stripe evenly and I actually had to think about how I wanted the striping to pattern out.

• I messed up on the first sock, which meant I had to improvise a bit. Not sure I love the outcome, but I just ensured to match the second sock, round for round, with the first.

• Striping with yarns of radically diff colours is challenging, esp. if you're going to carry up more than one strand of yarn per round. What I mean is that, when you have 3 colours in your stripe pattern, that means you are always carrying up 2 colours per round - and that, twisted, vertical line of carry-up yarn can get thick and ropey feeling on the inside of the sock. 

• Furthermore, dark colours are likely to show through at the join when you switch to the light colour. To carry up 2 strands of dark yarn behind one strand of light yarn is a challenge, no matter what your method. It's the difference between one person to standing behind a narrow wall vs two. You've only got so much wall before you become visible to those on the other side.

• That's why I opted to cut the yarns and weave in the ends. BUT... This didn't exempt me from needing to wrap the yarns before I switched from one colour to another. Otherwise, I got a little hole where the colours shifted. (That hole can be wrapped and tightened after the fact but it's smoother to close it as you work.)

• I figure that, if I'd been working with only 2 colours in total  - and my stripes were uniform - and no more than 2-4 rows thick - then carrying up the yarn would have made sense. But to be all over the map with stripe thicknesses AND to have 2 colours to deal with carrying up means that the sock looks and feels better with woven ends. Note: I'm not bad at weaving in ends but I struggle with dupicate stitch (the best method for doing this). I think it may be because I'm left-handed and everything is explained for right-handed people. Usually, I just follow the right-handed method (my brain is fairly plastic like that) but with this particular technique, it's not working so well. I should look up some left-handed techniques online - wonder if there are any... Not that it matters, particularly, cuz I am good at using other methods of weaving in ends. It just bothers me that I haven't been able to get with duplicate stitch as yet.

• I learned that thicker stripes work better if you're not going to carry up the yarn (i.e. weave in ends afterwards). Those ends take for fucking ever. 

• Let's talk about one more thing: the jogless jog. To accomplish this, I used the method of lifting and knitting (with the current stitch) the right leg of the stitch below the one I was working, as I began the second round after switching colours. Didn't work so well, IMO, since it's pretty apparent to me where the colour jogs appear on my socks. I sense this has something to do with the fact that my right-legs of stitches were attached to a short strand of yarn (because that colour had just been reattached on the previous round). Good reason, I suppose, to carry up the yarn or to find a better jogless jog method. My stripes are pretty neat, but they're not perfect.

When Will I Do This Again?

Well, not often. If I find myself with @25g of 3 colours of compatible sock yarn OR @37.5g of 2 diff colours, I'll give it another go. Realistically, that's not going to happen frequently. I know I will not stripe with more than 3 colours because I don't love weaving in ends that much - and I do worry about the overall integrity of a sock with too many woven-in joins.

Gotta say, though, I was left with just 4 grams of yarn over three different skeins at the end of this project - so it was a wildly successful stash-buster, if finicky.

Well, Hello There...

It's been a while, I realize. I don't think I've gone this long without posting in the whole time I've been blogging (which is practically a decade).

I'm right on the cusp of completing Phase 1 of my most professional professional experience to date. Let's put the emphasis on the fresh, which is the complete opposite of how I feel right now. Knowing that I'm going to have to return to this project again, reasonably soon, is somewhat deflating. But I'd be lying by omission if I didn't say that I've kicked some serious ass, by my own standards, and I've received some pleasing recognition.

I've always been the smart one. I'm comfortable with that label. I love critical thinking and learning and problem-solving and achieving outcomes. Lord, I do love the end result. I am grateful every minute of every day for my cognitive buoyancy. But, man, did I push the limits over the last 8 weeks. There was no part of my brain that wasn't stretched to the edge, all the time. I worked constantly. I'm not embarrassed to say that I struggled a fuck of a lot. And while my work isn't going to result in world peace, I can hope that it will serve my fellow citizens in future. Not to mention that it's taught me ever more about my own motivations.

Right now I'm considering that age-old adage that, just cuz you can do something, doesn't mean you should. I'm trying to reconcile the sort of work I do at work with the sort of work I do at life and the pieces don't cleanly intersect. No freakin' surprise, I realize. I'm only the zillionth modern woman who's engaged with this conundrum.

In case you're curious, my pain condition has remained largely dormant, indicating to me yet again that, while stress is a factor in everything in life, pain for me is mostly about hormones and myofascial neurochemistry.

Mind you, my sense of self has been really eroded by the omnipresence of cortisol and adrenaline. Crafts have largely fallen by the wayside (don't worry, that's about to change). Friends are more of a construct than a reality right now. I haven't even had time to drink adequate quantities of wine (I'm so over any kind of weekday ban) because really, when one gets home at 10 pm, one does not have time to drink before bed?!

I'm taking 2 weeks off starting Monday. Till then, I'm wrapping up loose ends (of all the varieties - to wit, see pics below). I have some nascent sewing ideas that I do intend to put into action soon. Stay tuned for more about that... And on the boring (but weighing on me front), I also have to mend a couple of pairs of handmade socks (they'll be garbage soon, if I don't) and hem another pair of absurdly expensive jeans. I swear, I've lost all sense of balance when it comes to how much I spend on denim.

But really, what I've missed is the mental space - the time to be creative on my own terms, the time to do a really good yoga practice (that isn't only about shoring me up for the stress), the time to freakin' walk to work and stop in at my coffee shop to talk with my friends for 5 minutes while I have an espresso. The time to plan for fun.

Of course, an impending reno is not filling me with the sense of adventure I generally seek out. It's, um, a little too close to home. (BTW, don't ask about it. We're 10 weeks behind schedule and nothing is anticipated to start before August, which means we're going to live through this fucking tear down during a Canadian winter, God help me.) Plus, I've got some potentially expensive and time consuming activities I must undertake over the next couple of weeks - bureaucratic, expat-American stupidity. Whatevs, I'm not engaging till Monday. I just can't bring myself to worry about another fucking thing.

I'll leave you with a couple of photos of knitting projects I've completed over the last few weeks. It ain't much, or particularly exciting, but these little projects are my tether to the things that matter:

Foolproof Take 2 - I love the colour combo...

And, made with the same purple (as shown in the Foolproof Cowl above), here's a new pair of socks.

BTW, I'm in the middle of making a pair of striped socks (3 diff skeins of yarn) and it's NOT simple. I intend to write a tutorial post about how I've kept my sanity while making a small-diameter project, having colourwork, and knitted in the round. Seriously, they make self-striping yarn for a reason. Alas, it doesn't help one to use up small quantities of fingering stash yarn...

More is Less

The key to staying on top of the yarn stash is in the planning. It doesn't pay to think one-project at a time. It also doesn't pay to be too spontaneous about one's next knit. Cuz it's only when you plan that you will have the ability to consider how to use up the entirety of your newly purchased yardage.

My fussiness just gained a new dimension. Now, not only must I love the yarn (and must the yarn be gorgeous to the feel and having the appropriate drape) but I've got to be able to apply it to at least 2 projects, lest I get stuck with half a skein I cannot easily repurpose.

For example: Usually, when I want to make a pair of socks, I go for the wackiest yarn I can find. Sock yarn tends to come in 425 yard skeins. I never use more than 275 yards (and generally I use 250) to make a pair. That means I'm stuck with half a sock worth of crazy-coloured, variegated yarn that will sit there till I come up with some sub-optimal, stash-bust hat or mitt project.

Here's what I've learned from looking at 15 or so of these skein remnants:

• I'm not interested in using the sock yarn for hats. It's a rare hat project that interests me, particularly in crazy colourways. 

• I can't find sock yarn in 250 yard skeins. I've tried. I can find 175 yard skeins (Koigu - and they come in gorgeous solid colours, see that purple below) but even as I love Koigu, I don't find that it wears particularly hard. 

• That's something that I'm going to have to try to get with because Koigu is awesome for other projects and - remember - I really don't want leftovers.

• Solid colours are much more practical than variegated yarns because you can mix and match them (particularly if you're using the same brand/yarn in an alternative colour). Stripes are endlessly chic and they keep a project interesting. Furthermore, choosing your own colours to stripe is engaging and you get to make it up.

•  Using 2 colours on a sock may be the way to go because it's easier to find 125 yard remnants than 250 - as long as the yarns coordinate.

• Yarn coordination really is the key. So, my goal in the future is to either buy 3 skeins of Koigu KPM (to get 2 pairs of socks) OR to buy enough fingering-weight yarn for one project (i.e., a sweater) so that there's enough left over for another project (namely, a pair of socks). That's tougher than it sounds because sock yarn is generally superwash (pref. with a bit of nylon for strength) and I don't want to make a sweater out of superwash yarn, ever again.

In the end, I landed on this combo to make, first, another version of the tremendously enjoyable Foolproof cowl. :

I do love the colour contrast going on.

That's madelinetosh Tosh Sock (in Antique Lace) and Koigu KPM (in 5414). It's a spectacular combo - each yarn is 2-ply twist with more or less the same feel. They're exactly equal in girth and spring. The only discernible diff is that the Tosh Sock has more slip (it's a bit drapier). Both are 100% merino - not superwash but also no nylon.

The remainder of yarn from the Foolproof should get me, more or less exactly, a pair of socks. And then I'll see how well this combo wears (nylon-free and non-superwash). I mean, they're both designed for socks, after all.

Seriously, isn't this yarn gorgeous??

I also want to make another Circular Vest. This garment is so versatile and so complimented! But I want to make it with a drapier yarn than Lett Lopi, per my last post on the subject. I was considering Quince Osprey (I've never yet worked with aran-weight Quince yarn) because I need drape, but recovery. Quince has that in spades, at least in its lighter-weight yarns, in part because it's not wash and dry. Though I love Quince, and use it often, it's just not luxe in the way some other yarns are - the kind I'm craving right now.

Here's where this story gets kind of bizarre. A couple of years ago I bought some madelinetosh Vintage to make Miranda this scarf:

I had 140 yards left over that's been sitting in my stash. See that grey-mauve ribbing? It's a pretty accurate representation of the colour - a Tosh Vintage, hand-dyed shade called Tern. Vintage is a highly-spun worsted-weight yarn but it feels more like aran because it's very plump with twist.

Below, you'll find a photo, taken yesterday, of the Tosh (again, Tern colourway = the centre ball and the skein at the left side of the photo). It's accompanied, on the right-hand side, by another yarn altogether - Biscotte & cie in Solid Gris, also heavy worsted-weight.

This photo gives a sense of the lush, plumpness of the yarn and the sheen. But it makes it look much more grey (and much less mauve-undertoned) than it is

Don't these yarns look exactly the same???

You might be wondering how is it that I now have an unwound ball of the Vintage, in addition to the remant and the Biscotte & cie. Well, turns out there was one skein left of the Tosh in the Tern colour at my LYS (Eweknit). I'm sure this stray-ball from 3 years ago was waiting for me. But, even with the second ball, I was 200 yards short to make the Circular Vest. That's where the Biscotte came in.

Here's a shot of the Biscotte label:

This Quebec-made yarn is gorgeous and tightly spun - much like Tosh Vintage. It's exactly the same shade of hand-dyed grey meets mauve as the Vintage. I've never actually seen two yarns from different brands match each other so perfectly. The only distinction is in the texture. Biscotte yarn has a bit of cashmere and nylon, and isn't superwash, while Vintage is. (Yeah, I know I'm against superwash for sweater-like garments but the Tosh doesn't grow like other superwash yarns and it truly is amazing. Not to mention that making the vest with it will provide me with a great way to use my remaining Tern stash in a much more exciting way than otherwise I would have been able to.) The Biscotte is a bit firmer - it's got less drape -and very slightly slimmer than the Vintage but, visually, this is imperceptible. I wasn't thrilled to find my 115g ball weighed only 111g, but c'est la vie.

I intend to stripe every 2 rows to ensure that the yarns integrate seamlessly. Happily, the Biscotte should tone down any potential drape-drag of the superwash Vintage. And, with this project, every yard of yarn should go!

So, for 125 bucks (given a frequent-buyer, 20-dollar discount) I've got 3 projects planned with no remnants to worry about: a totally wearable vest, a great cowl and a pair of 2-tone socks. That's a sweet deal given that I bought very good yarn (Tosh, Koigu, Biscotte).

Alas, this isn't all the spending on yarn I did yesterday. The rest is the subject of my next post, still in keeping with my stash-busting ethic. Till then...

Not A Bad Looking Sock...

I'm not nuts about how much brown there is, in the end, but this yarn makes a great, strong (but soft) fabric:

They'll make a great gift for my friend Hilary. We're going to celebrate with her family on the 20th...

Socked In

I went back to Ewe Knit yesterday. Between my pain improvement (for which I am SO grateful) and the fact that the shop has moved up the block, I'm back to spending a reasonable amount of disposable income on yarn etc.

What brought me up there yesterday was broken circular needles (in use at the time, I'm making socks). I put my hand down hard on the bamboo and it broke in half. I was a bit miserable in the moment, despite the fact that I had an alternate needle (Addi Lace) because, as I've come to realize, I don't like Addis. The cables are too hard to maneuver for magic loop and the coating on the lace brand is designed to mitigate titanium slipperiness. I like slip and flexible cables. Note: I don't like the Addi Turbos either: The tips are too round (so they don't hit the yarn right) and the cables are just as shit as with the Lace version.

The needles I prefer to make socks with (at least right now) are Chiaogoo Premium Bamboo. They have a flexible metal cable (the same as that provided with the Chaiogoo metal needles - only those cables have a red coating). Apparently, the bamboo needles in the larger sizes have a plastic cables (not unlike Addi cables). But at least up to a size US2, the bamboos use the metal cable and it's perfect for socks.

I will say that the POINTY bamboo tips only get pointier as you use them (and you can get quite a poke if you're not careful). Furthermore, if you come down hard on the wood, you'll break it, as I've learned. But Chiaogoo bamboos are still my faves for socks, hands down.

Of course, while I was there, I got some more yarn. I'm not a stone.

I bought a brand I've wanted to try for a long time, though I'd previously resisted due to price. Since the dollar has tanked, the price of yarn has increased by about 30 per cent, so 420 yards of this (admittedly "boutique") fingering weight cost me $50 bucks (including tax).

Meet Shalimar Breathless in Gun Metal:

It's much more grey in real life and a bit marled - not the "baby" blue it seems here. And it's made of super wash merino, cashmere and silk. I'm going to use it to make socks. Cashmere isn't the best fiber for socks (which need more resilience than most other garments) but I don't so much care. I want to knit with a yarn that looks and feels like a million bucks. And this most definitely does. I've started my latest pair of socks and it's delicious!

I've just finished a pair of socks I started a couple of weeks ago, using this (Sweet Georgia in Riptide):

Photo courtesy of Yemanabanana

Alas, my sock isn't striated in the even manner shown in the photo above:

But isn't that the fun of patterned yarn?

While I was in the shop, Claudia gave me a lovely Xmas gift:

Doesn't it match my socks beautifully? And my new Shalimar breathless? It occurs to me (and maybe it did to Claudia) that everything I knit is in some shade of grey or blue - so this bag is a great complement.

(I'd link to it on the website, but it doesn't appear to be listed. Nonetheless, you can find the bag in-store. I believe it costs about 30 bucks and it's well worth it as it'll hold a moderately sized project, notebook, notions and yarn.)

As some of you have asked, be assured, I'm taking 2 weeks off starting on December 18 and I intend to do FUCK ALL for the entire time (except when I host Xmas day for Scott's family and, perhaps, friends on the 24th). It'll be cooking, knitting and (if there's energy) sewing through the solstice. Travel, my original plan, seemed imprudent given unexpected costs incurred in the fall and given that we're going to start a rather pricey reno in the spring. Part of me is bummed about that and another part could care less. I'm just exhausted and I need to chill. Don't suppose it much matters where.

Today's questions: Have you knit with Shalimar Breathless? If yes, what are your thoughts? Do you like my new knitting bag? Whatcha think of that sock pattern. In truth, it's not my fave, but I know the socks will wear very well.

New Knitting!

In a rather unusual turn (at least, these days), I finished a pair of socks:

What I was thinking, photographing this on that blue rug, is beyond me...

Apologies - photo is tootally overexposed cuz my rechargeable flash batteries have died and I had to take this shot under the most absurd lighting conditions. They're actually a very rich blue.

They only took 7 weeks, not that I'm counting.

Angela does this thing where she knits herself a pair of socks in time to celebrate her birthday. I've decided to give this tradition a go cuz, really, I enjoy hand-knitted socks more than I ever could have imagined... That would be before Gillian dared me about a year and a half ago to make my first pair - despite my utter disdain for the homemade sock. Do you know I am the first one she dared?

I got a kick out of drying these babies on the stairs leading from the deck to the back garden. How often do I get to use the energy of the sun to dry anything??

The yarn is Koigu KPM which I originally bought to make these socks (along with some KPM in Ivory). Then I actually ready the Starry Starry Night pattern and decided it was never going to happen. OK - it's not happening till I'm retired. Who has that kind of attention to colour-work and detail - in freakin' fingering-weight yarn?!

I'm not exactly a knitting superstar these days - so I'm keeping my expectations realistic.

I do intend to return to my Custom Fit Basic Cowl, like this evening. Cuz I'd like kind of like it to be ready by this fall, you know? It has been on the needles since mid-Oct 2014, after all. On the plus side, the space-time continuum has not warped as a result of my inefficiency - and it's all ok. I have other sweaters.

Occasionally, you have to be grateful for the things that are very hard to take: If I were knitting at my old-style pace, there'd be no time to delve deeply into the world of handmade, natural skin care. I'm not going to suggest that pain is a blessing (fuck that concept), but it is a reality sometimes, and knowing it for what it is has vastly increased my ability to manage it - both because my threshold has shifted to embrace an encroaching level of awareness and also because the pain has been mercifully manageable over the past 3 months.

Peeps, I'll take it.

My self-devised hybrid of MELT, yoga (of a variety of types) and the Roll Model Method has been invaluable. My cycles have also shifted radically (lengthened by 6 days), providing a longer interval before the peaks and valleys of hormonal chaos. It's giving me time to shore myself up.

How I got from new socks to my period is beyond me. Honestly. Stream of consciousness much? It must be time to sign off, find some food and assemble an order. But do let me know what you think of (almost) birthday socks. Or handmade socks in general. I'm sure we've had this discussion in the past - but converts like to chat with the hold outs. :-)

I Don't Know What I'm Doing Posting At 7:37pm on NYE...

...And I've eaten dinner.

Whatever. So I'm not exactly partying tonight.

At any rate, here is my latest execution of A Simple Sock - the socks we're making in our current knit along. (Note: the ones photoed in the KAL are a totally different pair. I can't stop knitting!):

I think we can safely call this my last finished object of 2013...

This is the same Koigu KPM I used to make Scott's Xmas gloves (which he really likes, even though they're not quite up to the mid-winter). I was on the fence when I knit this yarn up on a US3 needle. But on a US1 needle, it makes a really nice, dense fabric. You can tell that Koigu is making yarn with socks in mind.

I am very happy for 2 reasons:

• Opting to go down a needle size and to work K2P1 rib (both a departure from the norm) produced a nice, firm cuff - that's something I strive to achieve.

• I was able to knit the majority of this pair of socks using my recently acquired ability to do the flicking method. I'm not super fast by any means, but I'm getting more natural at it - and it's really easy cuz I barely have to move any part of my hands or arms. More to the point, I am now able to create an evenly-tensioned fabric, no mean feat! I'd say that this method produces stitches about 20-30% tighter than my other method. It leans to the tight side, IMO, but I'm not exerting any extra effort. It's just the nature of my actions in this style.

No need for concern if you haven't had a chance to follow along with our knit along so far - you can begin this at any time. Just look over at the sidebar and check out that healthy archive of posts!

And with that, there's a pint of Hagen Dazs waiting on me...

This Idea I Have...

Despite the current pace of my life (somewhere between electrical current and speed of light), ever since I made my first pair (grudgingly) on a dare :-), I've been thinking about leading a sock knit-along of sorts.

Don't misunderstand. My version of such a thing would not come with a sweet logo and you wouldn't have to sign up. Of course, I'd want to know if you were participating! But it wouldn't be particularly regimented. Why? Because I'm not the kind of person who likes participating in process I perceive to be regimented. Seems it would be kind of hypocritical for me to expect it of you.

Let me start by explaining my rationale for undertaking such a thing - and of course I wouldn't persist if no one is interested so please do let me know if it appeals in the comments below or by email... I am not a natural sock-knitter. In fact, of all the things on the planet to knit, socks were at the bottom of my learn-to-make wishlist, a mere 11 months ago.

But, you know what? Since I learned to make them I've discovered a number of fascinating things:

• Socks are very popular gifts.
• Socks don't take too much yarn, so they're an affordable project.
• Socks are portable, in every respect.
• Sock-making is meditative, because (as long as you make the same pattern again and again) you figure out quickly how socks come together and then you just need to keep track. There's no wheel-reinvention. 
• Socks are fun to look at on your feet.
• Socks aren't hard to fit.
• Socks are warm in the winter!
• You can easily knit a pair of socks in a week. Really.

It's the final point that's cinched my interest in leading a knit-along for a simple pair of socks. In fact, I've done it before, in real life - so I know it works at least one-on-one. 

How Exactly Does One Knit A Pair Of Sock in a Week? Don't those Things Take A Long Time?:

Ok, for starters, no one's compelled to knit a pair of socks in a week. In fact, you can take a month, for all I care. But why would you want it to drag on?? I mean, you get socks at the end.

Over the past year, I have written a personal sock pattern - which, let me be clear is in no way novel; every technique described has been learned from someone far more knowledgeable than me. Nonetheless, I like to think my document manages to be clear and organized with the aim to facilitate a final outcome. (Warning: Did I mention I'm not a pattern drafter?) This pattern works for me and, every time I test it (5 times now), I make adjustments to improve clarity.

Were I to undertake this proposed knit-along (KAL), which FYI would be called Two Socks, One Week, my goal would be to demystify the individual steps in making the most simple sort of sock and in this way, to streamline the process. The pattern - and the KAL - is devised with this in mind.

In a stupid irony, the knit-along would take longer than a week because, seriously, there's a lot of writing involved. What I'd propose to do is break it out into the "Planning Stage" and "Knitting Stage".

Planning Stage:

• Let's talk about yarn and needles
• Let's talk about techniques - aka magic loop vs. DPNs
• Let's talk about prep and gauge
• Let's talk about the pattern and how to use it. (Natch, the pattern would be provided for free, what with it being a mash-up of everyone else's skill...)

Knitting Stage:

• Sock 1 - Monday - Thursday
• Sock 2 - Friday - Sunday
• Blocking

Who'd Suit This Sort of Thing?

I'm not proposing to teach anyone how to knit. I'm not even proposing to teach techniques (though I would link to some excellent sources and answer questions and, knowing me, I would go into some depth re: magic loop and its relevance to this process, IMO.) I imagine that the ideal participant would be someone with a basic knowledge of how to knit - (s)he's made a few things, knows how to cast on, bind off, increase and decrease, has a comfort level to work in the round using a preferred method.

The pattern is scaleable but I'd be "teaching" it as-is. Unmodified, it's a sock that fits a medium-long foot (this sort of modification is easy) that is neither excessively narrow nor wide. The neck of the sock is designed to fit a small-med ankle and a slender-med calf. That doesn't mean I wouldn't discuss modifications, I'd just opt to refer to pattern dimensions when I speak about numbers.

At any rate, a lot of you have asked me how I knit my socks quickly, how I avoid laddering although I always use magic loop, how I find my yarn, how I keep my motivation to complete the second sock. I do believe I have some potentially useful feedback to provide. And I do love a gimmick!

Today's questions: Would you be interested in this concept? I'm thinking that starting soon (by the beginning of December) could be useful. The first few posts - as you run around readying yourself for the holidays - would be simply information-oriented. Then, perhaps we'd start the knitting part in the week between Xmas and New Year's - or in the first week of the New Year. It occurs to me that, at that point, everyone will be ready to knit something for him or herself. The crunch will be over. The holidays may be on. And baby it's cold outside. Of course, you sock knitters may already have your system down, so don't hesitate to advise if it's not your thing! Thoughts or feelings?

A Simple Sock and A Simple Story

From this:

Photo courtesy of The Loopy Ewe (though I got my yarn at Ewe Knit in TO)

To this:

Feet courtesy of my mother (Note: they'll fit better when they're washed and dried)

Adorbs, yes?

And by way of brief anecdotes: Today, while we were out, my mother was asked about her form of insurance. When she told the requester that it was Medicare, the woman looked dubious. She asked again. My mother answered. And then she asked a third time - at which point my mother (having a bit of chemo brain) was convinced she had forgotten the name of her insurance provider. Turns out, as we detangled the matter, that the woman thought my mother was "no older than 40" (Medicare only kicks in at age 65)?!?! When I disabused her of the misunderstanding, by advising her that I (the daughter) am already 43, she disdainfully looked me up and down and retorted with "Well, I thought you were her friend."

Hmmm...

At least one of us is looking young.

So, what do you think of the socks??

Habit

So, there I was, all set to make a pair of socks for myself, when it occurred to me that you can't very well go to see your chemo-having mother without bringing her a pair of socks (especially if she stole another handmade pair when last you saw her).

But don't worry. I've got a plan.

It's called feeding the habit purchasing more (entirely necessary) yarn. And it comes with the added bonus of allowing me to experience, not only the Sweet Georgia Tough Love Sock, but also the Madeline Tosh Sock (which I was secretly traumatized to leave at the store).

To wit:

Madeline Tosh Sock in Smokey Orchid

Yeah, this is the colour of the year for me. I've purchased variations on "merlot" so many times in the last 2 months, I can't even keep track. Well, I can keep track because I archive my entire stash. And no, that doesn't make me weird.

So, I'll bring (one half-complete) pair of socks to NC, and finish it while I'm visiting. And then I'll start the next pair just for me.

Today's questions: Do you buy the same colour of yarn over and over again (at least for a few months at a time)? Do you like Tosh sock? Do you like this colour (really, the stock photo doesn't do it justice)? Does everyone steal your homemade socks?? Let's talk.

A Little Something

Sure, I'm knitting Xmas-style, for a small army, which is why I shouldn't be knitting for myself...

Oh well:

A Simple Sock (my modified pattern) using the irresistible Sweet Georgia Tough Love Sock in Stormchaser

I'm kind of addicted to crazy-colourways of self-patterning yarn. It's all a big adventure.

I know I don't care for homemade socks but, actually, they're very cheerful and warm all winter. And every other pair I've made has been knicked.

I'm at home today as I'm feeling under the weather - and very committed to winning the fight against germs, especially in light of the fact that I'm going to North Carolina next week. Monday is a holiday (for a lucky few, of whom I'm one). This gives me two unexpected days to sit around and knit. Oh, the postman just knocked to deliver a box of chocolates that I ordered online last night at 8 pm?!?! I know it was intra-city shipping, but still.

Can't say I'm complaining...

This Is One of Those Posts That Goes Everywhere...

Just in time for "Snowstorm 2013!" (bish plz), I finally finished the next pair of socks:

Weird how the browns (caramel and khaki) are inverted between the two socks, yes? BTW, not one to pass by a gizmo, those are my new sock blockers. Truly, handmade socks dry in 30 minutes on those things. I'm not saying I intend to hand wash my socks, but if I must wear them between machine loads, it's good to have options.

Upon finishing these, it occurred to me that I was without a knitting project. (Note: Between muslin 3 of the suit jacket, and a couple of other sewing quick wins - to be discussed in my next post - that I started prepping for before I got my current bug, I have less than no business considering new knitting. But there you go. This post isn't about showing you my practical streak.)

The great thing about being sick in the modern era is that, as long as the Advil is working, you can absorb yourself in the internet. My evening was spent, under blankets, watching reruns of Law and Order (I've spent basically 6 weeks bedridden since Sept. and I've yet to re-watch a rerun in that time. What is up with that?) and doing "research".

Full disclosure: Brooklyn Tweed's latest look book just came out and I could not stop myself from purchasing some e-patterns and yarn. So, technically, when this arrives, I will have a new project.

Moreover, I totally love these:

Ooooh, pretty colours! This scarf is actually a flattened tube so the stranding is hidden.

I really have a thing for the flowy, oversized, convertible cardigan, people. I decided that, if I like working with the BT yarn on the shawl, I will invest in some to make this cardigan.

OK, back to the point of this all, my next project...

I have stash yarn, though not in large volumes, with the exception of this:

Malabrigo Finito (fingering weight)

It's the stuff I bought, in a fit of sickness-consumerism last fall, from Habu. In truth, I never would have purchased it if I had seen it up close. It's a bizarre mulberry-meets-pink-meets-dirt. And it's hella variegated, IMO.

It's actually been tormenting me a bit. I tell myself I will not buy more stash until I use it. Each time I look at my stash, it follows me with its gaze. Side note: I also keep telling myself I'm done with fingering weight for a while and then I decide to make fingering weight shawls and socks. So, apparently, I'm an indecisive wreck.

Anyway, I have no ability to leave this house right now. While I am very happy to report that the fever and chills have abated (knock on something pls.), my cough sounds CDC-worthy and I have the energy of a slug. (Other side note: It occurs that the yarn is vaguely slug-coloured. Hmmm...)

What's a girl to do but to choose her next project on the basis of the yarn she already has in her hands?

I used the Ravelry search feature, typed in the amount of yarn I had to knit, the weight of it, and then I waited (a millisecond) to see what thousands of options would be open to me. Intriguingly, of 2000-odd choices, the only one that seemed to work with my yarn (knowing what I do of it) is this one:

Indicum Pullover by Hilary Smith Callis

Intriguingly, the designer is she of the Kimono Wrap Cardigan, my very first project. (BTW, the link feature just fucked up again, so no more links in this post...)

Now, here's the punchline - if I haven't lost you in one of the preceding 63 storylines: This sweater has stranded colour work.

Hilarious, yes? It's like the universe is colluding with Gillian?! It's only in the corrugated ribbing bands at the sleeves, hem and neck (see the pretty contrast colour woven into the rib?) - and I didn't realize it until I'd purchased the e-pattern / got myself all set. Otherwise, I can assure you, I would have removed it from my cart.

The other punchline is that I appear to be making yet another fingering-weight sweater on the heels of a fingering-weight sweater that made me decide to swear off fingering-weight sweaters. But really, that's a bit "standard-issue Kristin".

Here's the fun bit. I used that colour work book I just bought and managed to figure out, fairly easily, how to do the stranding. I'm only using my right-hand for this because it's knit/purl stranding. Much stranding is done in the round so that it only requires knit stitch. I will be knitting this in the round and, yet, making the float on a purl stitch. I realize, this is super-boring if you've no interest in colour work, but the gist is, it hasn't tested my ability to knit Continental-style at the same time as British-style (one strand of yarn in each hand), an ability I strongly question. I guess, as with everything, only time will tell. BTW, the contrast colour I'm using is the slate-grey (with purple undertones) cashmere of the Princess Jumper.

Now I've worn up a day's worth of energy writing this and it's time to retire with some Law and Order. But please do comment on whatever element of this post might catch your fancy. Which pattern do you like the best? How do you find corrugated rib colour work? Have you ever knit a sweater in a shade of "slug"? Do you like the socks? Let's talk.

An Expert Is Someone Who's Seen It Once Before

If it's Saturday I must be off to work on a tailored suit muslin. S and I are going to try to push through to get her first muslin alterations done, to review my second muslin (reflecting alterations from last week's marathon). Plus, hopefully, marking up the adjunct pieces to the 8 from the shell, given that we've made wholesale changes just about everywhere and none of the notches (after altering those pieces) will line up between lining, interfacing and body.

I cannot tell you how much I loathe marking up the muslin. Eight pieces will take more than 2 hrs to mark accurately and with all the lines required (including seam lines?!)

I REALLY hope that, after this weekend, I'll be ready to prep and cut my fashion fabric. Of course, there's no point getting excited. It's going to be what it's going to be.

In the meanwhile, allow me to remind you of my fundamental insanity. I finished the cashmere sweater (it was a HIT, peeps) which, the entire time I was constructing it and dealing with challenges, was the theoretical obstacle to enjoying life focusing solely on the suit.

I kept telling myself that if I could figure it out and get it done I would happily focus only on the jacket, till its completion, and make socks as my quiet, calm-down craft.

Well, I am making simple socks:

I'm getting faster at these...

 ...but I cannot stop thinking about making another sweater. Or a pair of high-waisted denim leggings with that new denim stash I bought. Or a new dress with my navy wool jersey.

I even bought the hilariously-titled "Sockupied" online-magazine to dream about complicated things I'll have to figure out on the fly.

OK, on the topic of making socks, I'm completely converted. They're so methodical. Now that I've memorized the simple pattern, I can just pick up from where I've left off. And, having washed my just-made socks and having worn them just about every day in this freezing weather, I can say that I don't mind the waffle-feeling (which has toned down substantially, if not entirely) and they really do stand up to everything. Plus, people think they are the cat's ass. I love being popular!

I'm actually going to teach a work-mate how to knit socks in the next couple of weeks. She saw me making mine and, though she could care less about knitting on the whole, she cannot stop thinking of wearing her own socks. It takes all kinds, peeps.

Plus, it's pretty hilarious that I'm about to teach someone how to knit.

I Don't Know About These...

 Hmmm...

 

So, I wore my handmade socks today. And I have to say, I'm not convinced. For starters, they're hideous. I'm trying to get with their variegated-laide but really.

On the plus side, with utterly no trying, the stripes more or less align between the two socks. And they're slim, I'll give them that. They also fit very well and they're extremely warm. I know. Today was -16C.

But I can feel every little waffle-y stitch on the bottom of my feet. Seriously, it's like they're wacky "massage" socks. Only I'm not sure I actually like feeling the stitches of my socks on the bottom of my feet.

And, also, I think I may have mentioned, they're kind of ugly.

Thoughts?

Mea Culpa

Never let it be said that I don't admit when I'm wrong change my perspective based on new information.

People, I take it back about making socks.

I can't, in good faith, continue to let you think that I hate them. In fact, having just completed the first sock of the second pair, I actually appear to be enjoying things.

A few moderating details:

• This time I modified a bunch of free, online patterns to suit my needs. The result: I'm knitting a stockinette sock with some cuff ribbing - aka as simple as it gets - in a circumference of 56 stitches rather than the standard 64. Better for my twig ankles, and I might, in future, scale down to 52. Note: Socks seem to work in repeats of 4 stitches, in my limited experience.

• I also went from using a slippery, spongy yarn with a needle having lots of traction (bamboo) to using a dense yarn with a (metal) needle having lots of slip. Repeat this mantra (at least if you're using magic loop and you're me): Less grip, more slip. 

• It's official. I hate silk in yarn. I loathe how it makes it all floppy and drapey. In a sock, anything but strong, dense and close-fitting is untenable. No joking, as I write this, my daughter is wearing her new hand-made socks and saying: You need to make more in this yarn. It's so springy and soft!

• The Regia, however, is work-horse. It barely stretches, much less grows! The stitches are so tight and tiny and I love them.

• OMG - I finally understand the appeal of variegated yarn! It's so exciting to see, with each little round, what splotch or stripe or stray little pin-prick of colour will appear next. It's like magic colouring! Is it ugly? Hell yes! But it's so unrepentant, so jubilant in its ugliness that it's hard not to forgive and forget.

• To wit, I somehow managed  to buy this:

More Regia variegated Color Twin sock yarn

• Trust me. It's a whole new level of ugly. And I'm vaguely psyched.

I can't say that many socks are in my future, but I am going to give it 3 pairs before I make up my mind.

Given that I'm half inclined to do a Sock Week series - in which I talk about various sock-related things and tell you how truly doable it is to knit a pair of them in a week - something tells me I may not be done with them. But I've accomplished this year's goal, thank you Gillian, and that's all I set out to do.

What do you think of my new yarn? Is it not 110% insane? Let's talk about what you like in a sock yarn. Variegated pattern? Cashmere? Machine-washability? I want to know!