Might be a pattern here . . .

It seems to be all-socks, all the time around here:




I really like this yarn -- Great Adirondack's Silky Sock in the "Stormcloud" colourway.

I think it might fade a bit, though, because it is turning my needles just a skosh blue. Erk.

And it probably should be handwashed. Double erk.

But I still like it.

Reminds me of Hokusai.




Why so many socks? And why are they so . . . plain?

Well . . .

My brain is gone. (Yes, dears, I had it removed. So refreshing!)

I'm even having trouble with ribbing.

(Took me TWO DAYS to get through that heel you see up there . . .)

Normally I wouldn't bring non-knitting stuff into the knitting blog.

But it is clearly affecting the knitting.

So, here you go.

Apparently, the part of the brain that manages the fancy knitting is the same part of the brain that one uses when learning a new language.

Japanese, this time.

Not that it is going well, but it could be going a lot worse!

We'll see how long this phase lasts . . .

You might never hear about it again, because right now, about all I can do is ask you where the train station is or invite you to have a drink 'at my place.' (Yeah, smarmy.)

On the other hand, maybe someday everything will just click, and I'll be able to translate all those tasty crafting magazines.

But for the time being, I am nearly incapacitated, knitting-wise.

Maybe "they" should do a study? Develop a miracle pharmaceutical? I'd pay good money to get my mojo back . . .

Posy is just sitting there, nearly done. Nearly! But I can't touch it. Because if I can't handle "Knit 3, Purl 1," I definately can't handle Posy.

Argh.

In other news, those clogs took forever to dry . . . but they are really toasty!

You know, you think, oh, these are made of wool, probably they'll be warm . . . .

But you have no idea how warm until you try them on.

Very nice.

And just in time for winter, eh?

Spring Has Sprung

And I am back. Mostly, anyway.

There has been knitting. I finished all of the remaining pairs of socks I began last fall:

From left to right: A modified "Gentleman's Fancy Sock" from Nancy Bush's Knitting Vintage Socks in Trekking 100 (took more than one skein, can you believe it?); Feather 'n' Fan in a Meilenweit cotton blend (can't find the ballband); plain ribbed oversocks in another Trekking Ombre (another missing ballband); and Elfine's Socks in Koigu.


Sadly, not one of these is for me! Two for Mum, one for the Doctor, and one for Someone Else.

These, however, are for me:

(Dry! Dry, Damn YOU, DRY!)


Pattern is Fiber Trends' Felted Clogs; yarn is Lamb's Pride.

Ladders Wash Out!

Remember THESE?

Yes, they've grown on me.

I think the problem was all a matter of expectations.

I saw bright, saturated, gardeny colours in the skein.

I expected bright, saturated, gardeny colours in the sock.

I didn't get them.

So it took me a while to get used to what I actually had.

Which was, as advertised by the name of the colourway, bloodstone.

You, know, like THIS.

Remarkable similarity.

And now I do like them.

Although still not as much as I would probably have liked the Kryptonite colourway I forwent for those bright, saturated, gardeny colours.

So, although I'm coming at it from a different angle, I completely agree with Erika: A pre-purchase visual of the expected end product would be most helpful to the consumer.

Anyway . . . you may recall that I had heard a rumor that ladders wash out, and that I was going to test that hypothesis with a little experiment.

It's true! It's true!

They do! They do!

Ladders wash out!

Proof:

1.) Test ladder, pre-washing:




Obvious laddering.

2.) Test ladder, after one washing:




Still there (that slight space after the first three *full* stitches), but not at all obvious. Completely wearable.

Please note that most of the difference in colour between the first and other photos is not due to fading. I lost a smidge of colour in the wash, but most of the difference is due to lighting.

3.) Test ladder, after three washings:




Damned if I can see it. Where it used to be is after the first four full stitches.

(You can see that I'm pretty hard on my socks. I put them through the dryer just like anything else. Lecture me as you like, but I wouldn't wear them otherwise.)

They Rock, Barely

Having finished the Handspun Socks and Prime Rib Scarf, I allowed myself to cast on some of my new Socks that Rock.

As you can see, I did a bit more than just casting on.




Colour = Bloodstone. Loved it in the skein. Not sure about in yet in sock form. In hindsight, I probably would have been happier with Kryptonite.

Ah, well.

At least I know that if I decide I don't want them, someone in my, er, household does. (They're too big for Mum.)

"Mine! All mine!"


Was doing plain ol' stockinette, so I thought I'd mix it up a little with a new-to-me cast-on.

Tubular cast-on, using no-waste method.


Also, what I think is an Eye of Partridge heel, but I'm really not too sure about that.

My favorite bit of the sock.


Finally, I heard some rumor that ladders wash out. Ladders wash out???!!! Usually I knit an extra stitch on each needle to avoid ladders. But, hey, if there's a chance that I don't have to bother with that . . . that deserves a test.

So, test ladders.


Verdict: Sock that Rock is really, really nice.

But beware!

If you are knitting for big feet -- and I don't consider mine all that huge, but I do have giganto heels -- do yourself a favor and get two skeins, okay? (Yeah, I know, expensive.) Or plan as a contingency contrasting ribbing, or heels, or toes.

I almost didn't make it. Literally had inches to spare.

I had, in fact, to dig through the trash and find that (still clean!) foot-long "scrap" leftover from the "tail" end of my cast-on. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had enough length to graft the toe.

Don't believe me?




Not even enough left over to do one of those eeeentsy mitered squares for my sock-yarn-leftovers masterpiece.

Which was just about enough to convince me to do contrasting toes, just so I could have the leftovers.

Because I had this fantasy that the blanket would reflect ALL of my post-"pre-blog" socks.

But on balance I think that ruining perfectly good toes (I don't have a proper contrasting yarn) just so I can have a perfect blanket is probably a bit too off, even for me.

Yet another fantasy bites the dust.

Oldest WIP No Longer

These were cast on nearly a year ago -- sometime last February, I think. (Pre-blog, in any event.)

Maybe I should have a goal of finishing (or acknowledging the abandonment of) all knitting projects within a year of casting on?

Now my oldest WIP is Posy. I'm terrified that she'll have the same problem as Freya. I'm too scared (or lazy?) to pick her up and just measure.

Anyway, handspun socks for Dulaan:

Was so busy trying to avoid holes at the join of the second heel (these were knit flat, then seamed, then the toes and heels added) that I forgot to check what sort of heel I did on the first one.

So, totally different heels!

But I like them.


My desperate urge to cast on some Socks that Rock carried me through these, and most of the way through the grey and red "prime rib" scarf I haven't yet shown you -- also for Dulaan, unless the Doctor snags it.

Now that urge is passed.

Now I only have the urge to finish the prime rib scarf.

Rather, that is, than working on the knitting I *really* should be doing -- i.e., the things that actually have deadlines: V's scarf, the green Weasley, the Dale zippered hoodie.

Ah, well. Go with the flow.

Frog Proof

Claudia Handpainted is frog proof.

You see, before these were plain 'ol ordinary stockinette socks with a plain 'ol ordinary gusset heel . . .

Hello, cankles! And hello, stash! (There, in the background, you can see what you might call the tip of the iceberg.)




. . . before that (a year ago), they were Jaywalkers that were too big . . .

. . . then Jaywalkers that were too small . . .

. . . then (again) Jaywalkers that were too big . . .

. . . then picot-edged socks that had *no* stretch because I was knitting too tightly . . .

. . . and then once I finished the first plain ol' ordinary sock, I promptly cast on four too few stitches for the second, getting all the way through the heel flap before realizing it (Doh!) . . .

. . . but still, after all that, the yarn is beautiful.

In a related story, I have jumped on the insane-making-a-blanket-out-of-leftover-sock-yarn bandwagon:

From left to right, leftovers from the Doctor's First Oversocks (Regia Strato); Mum's Birthday Socks (Plymouth Sockotta); My Greece Socks (Lorna's Laces); My Striped Tweedy Socks (Meilenweit Colortweed); and My Plain Claudia Socks (Claudia Handpainted, probably in Carousel). Gee, three pairs for me since the blog started . . . now that's what I call GREED. Tasty!



Other knitters who are (or were) on this bandwagon include:

Shelly at The Heathen Housewife (Trendsetter! With the KAL and everything . . . )
Gail at Gail's Good Yarn
Gwen at Shoes and Yarn
Noricum at Soapbox
and at least one super-extremely-famous knitter, Wendy at Wendy Knits

Anyone else out there in Crazy Land?

I Might Be Broken

Still not working on what I should be working on.

Can't seem to knit anything but socks!

So here's a new one (The Elfine's Socks have hit the point where they really need to be tried on by zee Mama before I go any further; the Doctor's New Socks are in a similar state):





This is a version of the "Gentlemen's Fancy Sock" from Knitting Vintage Socks by Nancy Bush. The yarn is Trekking XXL 100, which I have been craving for near on six months now.

I love the stitch pattern:





Closer, you say?





Stupid, stupid, stupid I didn't read the detailed pattern description before casting on the first time. Although it is titled as a sock for the gentlemen (as the pattern was its original publication), Ms. Bush explains in the somewhat finer print that she has resized the sock for the ladies with the 7 1/2 inch circumference feet. WHO HAS FEET THIS SMALL?

In any event, I started with the 80 stitch cast-on called for in the pattern, and what with the 2 mm needles, etc. . . . Way too tight, plus I think the pattern looks best when it isn't fully stretched out.

Here, just slightly stretched out:





I could have cast on a few extry stitches and moved up a needle size, but what do you know? All my other sock needles are occupied. (Wonder how that happened . . . ) So I stuck with the smaller needles, went with the intuition, and went for a whopping 100 stitches.

And so this is taking a while!

(But I really, really like it.)

My favorite bit is where the ribbing meets the road:





(Don't you think that a fitted, long sleeve sweater in lozenges like this, but of varied lengths, would be awesome?)

I think these will fit me very comfortably.

And I am very much looking forward to wearing my new socks.

But.

They could probably also very comfortably fit someone else (a particular someone else) who might be interested in some extremely colourful, randomly striped woolen socks. (He's even wackier than me . . . .)

On some days it is way more difficult to be generous than on others.

Funny, That

So now that I have more time to knit, I find I'm doing less knitting. Whaaa?

But I have finished those socks in Lana Grossa Meilenweit Colortweed (no pattern):




They might look a little skinny when off the foot (that's the magic of 2x2 ribbing), but I assure you they fit perfectly:

V. V. Bad

Remember all that tough talk about concentrating on finishing up a few things this weekend? You know, the low hanging fruit? A few ends here, a few buttons there, and voila, five finished projects!

Well.

You see, first there was this laceweight that just appeared in the post. Totally unexpected! (eBay, super-cheap, unknown quality.) So then there was some spontaneous experimenting with the 2 mm circulars. . . . (V. Bad.)

Then I felt bad about spending all that time on something that I won't call a new project. But I still didn't feel like facing ends or buttons. So I fiddled around more than a bit with the Doctor's boring socks. But still too small!

Couldn't quite yet face re-frogging the Regia Strato, but didn't want to give up on socks for the Doctor. So (even worse!), out came another ball of sock yarn:




A rebellious cast on of 80 stitches, and upping the needle size to 2.75 mm, and the cuff was finally pronounced "not too small." (I rather think it is now "too big," even for "oversocks," but I don't suppose the Doctor was willing to tell me so in that moment . . . )

So still not sure about the size.

But can I just say that knitting goes a lot faster on 2.75 mm needles than on 2.25 mm needles?

And can I also just say that the Trekking Ombres (even the ones that look a little dull in the skein) are gorgeous?

I thought this yarn was a sort of a muddy, dark maroon. (And in the photo, I guess that's still what it looks like.) But in the light, and in sock form, it is really more of a black pearl color. But not, you know, in a girly way. In a respectable, gentlemanly way. (In a respectable, gentlemanly way that would look even better on the ladies than on the gentlemen. Why did I tell the Doctor this yarn was for him?)





And can I also just say that I remember the bus being a lot more comfortable than it actually is? Just sayin'.

(Is it me or is it the bus?)

Secrets and Socks

So the deal is that I'm working on something that is intended to be a gift and that I don't know whether it will turn out at all. You know I have no trouble blogging about things that don't turn out, but with this one, I'm more than a little concerned. If it doesn't work out, I'd like the option of just forgetting about it. And if I blog about it . . . well, it will never go away, then!

What I will say right now is that it is something to go with this (can't leave well enough alone, doncha know), and that I'm using Noro Kureyon. Promise that if it does turn out, I will post all the gory details. (Probably if it doesn't work out I will post the even gorier details.)

In the meantime, I have managed to finish these babies, just in time (okay, way late) for Mom's B-day. After I had them all wrapped up, I realized that the toe on the second sock doesn't match the first. The first had a round toe, decreased to 12 stitches, then kitchenered. The second I decreased to 6 stitches and just pulled them tight. Doh! (If she wants them fixed, I'll happily do it, but they were already wrapped and everything!)

Plymouth Sockotta, colour #617. No pattern per se, but on 72 stitches, with a bit of ribbing, a regular ol' gusset, and round toes.



And now, why I will probably not be doing round toes again:





Two of my Brittany Birches bit the dust on that last toe!

Never before have I snapped a needle. And then TWO of them, gone, within minutes of eachother. (I guess they were trying to tell me I was "going the wrong way" with the toe. Why do I never listen?)

Next!

So . . . as you might have guessed, I've temporarily given up on that blanket. Horrid thing.

Knitting time has suddenly been extremely curtailed (work. yuck!), not to mention blogging time, but I did manage to sneak in a Vegas yarn crawl (not fruitful in the short term, but good for future reference), which I will blog about when I get a real few moments.

In the meantime, here's what's next for Dulaan 2007:





"Er . . . What are they?" you ask.

Yes.

Hrm.

The goal is socks.

The reason they are so . . . odd . . . is not a problem with the knitting, but with the yarn -- Anonyknits' own vintage (read "shoddy") handspun.

Seriously uneven.

Seriously overspun. (Have to unspin the stuff every few feet before it is remotely knittable. The cats are amused.)

But it is mine.

So between the "let's knit it" and "let's trash it" options . . . Well, you know.

This recipe for socks is from the Twisted Sisters Sock Workbook, which is geared toward socks of the handspun variety. The book is good for many, many things, but what I like best about it is that it seems to be able to rescue even the worst handspun. In sockish quantities, anyway.

Rescues it successfully enough that I'd keep the socks for my own picky self. But they will be a little too big for me and will be way too warm for anywhere but Mongolia in the winter. Okay, or Manitoba. Maybe even Alaska. But I have no plans to be in any of those places (or their ilk) during the winter.

Any winter.

Ever.

Mission Accomplished?

In my quest to reduce the number of projects I've got going on, I finished my second-to-oldest project over the weekend. (The oldest being the Baby Norgi . . . incredibly patient, that little guy.)

Socks for the Doctor.

You'll probably notice that the proportions of these socks seem a little off. This is because these are "oversocks." The Doctor and I might have made that word up. Anyway, they're socks meant to be worn over other socks for warmth in the winter. So being roomy was more important than length in the cuff.

Other details: Toe up, "figure eight" cast-on.

Stockinette foot and heel, with three-by-one ribbed cuff, over 72 stitches except for the last inch or so, where I added another pattern repeat to further prevent constriction:





Made from Regia Strato purchased on sale from here (currently available in some colours here -- excellent price!). Can't say which colourway as I tossed the ball band ages ago.

Knit simultaneously on two circulars (Addi Turbos in what they call size "1," although I'm not too certain what sizing system that refers to), except for the heels, which were "afterthought" heels using magic loop. Really don't see myself doing either the two circulars or the afterthought heels ever again.

So, that's two pairs of socks finished in recent days.

Victory!

If I were strong, I would leave it at that and move on to finishing something else. But knitters need their rewards. And there isn't really any harm in starting a new pair, since that would still be fewer work-in-progress than before. So:





But I neglected to bring that one home with me yesterday. So . . .





What is wrong with me?

Those Socks That Only Needed a Toe

I'm making progress, people! Finished a few things, the first of which are these:

Stitch pattern is the same as Conwy from Nancy Bush's Knitting on the Road.

But I didn't really bother following that pattern -- I know from a previous and very frustrating experience that a true Conwy doesn't actually fit me.

So, these guys have an extra six stitches (one additional pattern repeat), and the calf shaping is eliminated. We probably differ on several other points, but I really couldn't say which, as I stopped paying attention to the pattern long ago.

Some other details:

Size 1 (US) Brittany Birch dpns.

Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock, Flames colourway.

Top down, with ye olde heel flap. Close-up of point where cuff, heel and gusset meet:

Have no idea how I avoided that gaping hole I usually get at this point. Probably I picked up 17 extra stitches here, rather than the 1 or 2 extra stitches that are generally recommended (but that never really seem to help in my case).

Perhaps it is boring of me, but I've now tried many, many of the exciting-and-new methods of knitting socks, yet still I think this is my favorite. At least for knitting socks for my own feet.

Unlike a short row or afterthought heel, the heel flap allows me to make the heel just as roomy as I need it -- which is quite roomy. (I can't, for example, wear Jaywalkers. Believe that I have tried.) In any event, the socks I have made using these other methods are always a bit tight in the heel. Unless they're a bit loose everywhere else. The heel flap gives me flexibility, options.

Doing it top-down allows me to check the fit of the heel separately from the fit of the foot, before even moving onto the gusset. If I've got it wrong, I only need to re-do the heel. With a toe-up sock, if I've got the fit wrong, it is invariably because I followed the pattern and didn't start increasing soon enough to get the larger gusset I need. Which means a heck of a lot more ripping.

As for the DPNs: Yep, just like everyone else, I've got problems with laddering. If I'm doing a ribbed sock, I can hide most of this. If I really, really don't want the laddering, I'll use magic loop.

Magic loop is quite nice, until I get to the heel. Just don't like it as much for that. Couldn't say why.

Two circulars? Very bothersome, all those needles flying about. I thought I'd particularly like doing two socks at once, but really all this means is that if I don't like the shaping, I have to rip out twice as much.

One final comment: Lorna's Laces is very nice. But you all know that already.