A year in the making

I started this sock a year ago on a road trip. I just returned from a road trip to the very same place, and I found myself knitting on the sock again. I had previously decided to rip out the heel and redo, but I changed my mind.

I took this picture to show the kind of scenery I was enjoying while knitting, but knitters might notice something interesting about this picture. Look at the needles. Can you see that one is missing? When I put the knitting into my knitting bag, I some how pulled out a double-point and didn't notice. Directly after taking this photo, I put the double-point back into the knitting. It actually went back in quite smoothly.

 

The yarn is Knitpicks, the discontinued Essentials. It's really quite soft and lovely to touch, in sharp contrast to some other Essentials I have.

 

I started the toe as written, and then remembered that I wanted a double-stranded toe. I ripped out 12 rows of toe and redid the toe to match the heel. That didn't turn out so well. The toe was too pointy to fit a human toe, and the decreases made the chequerboard look messy, not cute. I ripped out the double-stranded toe, and redid it as written in the pattern, finishing just as we arrived home this afternoon. A year later, one sock complete.

 

The pattern is Hiiumaa from Knitting on the Road

Really Truly Totally Off the Needles

The Olympic WIP socks are DONE. It was no small matter, either!

While redoing the foot on sock #2, I remembered that I had planned to double strand the toes, just like I had the heels. So I went ahead and knit the toe double-stranded. Which meant that when I was done toe #2, I had to rip out toe #1 and redo it double stranded. As if I wasn't sick to death of these socks already! As I was reknitting toe #1, I recalled that I had previously finished sock #1 only to find it too small, and had ripped out it for more length. So I have knit a total of 5 toes for these 2 socks.

When I take more photos of the finished object, I'll take photos of the heel. The heels fit with a big bump of knitted fabric pointing out where fabric shouldn't be. That's my punishment for trying a new heel: a rotten heel.

But! Both socks are now the same size, and with the exception of the heel, the right size.

Olympic Do-over

Okay! Tonight I ripped out the ill-fated ill-fitted sock foot. Ripping out this colourwork is annoyingly complicated, but not as bad as if there were multiple colours in each row. Off to knit!

An attitude adjustment

The neon socks I just finished knit up at an amazing speed. I couldn't stop knitting them. I was drunk on the speed. This was particularly emphasized by the fact that I only knit one at a time, since I wasn't sure about the design and only wanted to rip out one mistake. Knitting one sock at a time makes the sock feel like it's flying off the needles.

In contrast, I started a pair of socks yesterday for my dad. Going from socks for daughter to socks for my dad is a huge adjustment! I have to get used to the new adjusted pace of knitting these socks. Consider these numbers:

With the neon socks, I was knitting 44 stitches per row. This meant that every inch took 352 stitches.

With the new socks, at 72 stitches around, knitting both at once, I'm knitting 144 stitches per row. And with the smaller gauge, there are more rows per inch, so every inch takes 1584 stitches.

Unsurprisingly, these new socks seem to be creeping along. But that's okay. I like the knitting, I like the yarn, and I like the pattern. I may not be flying through the socks, but the steady progress keeps me happy.

 

Monochromatic works in progress

I have finished one St. Peter Port Stripe sock, though I made the toe rounder than the instructions recommended. The fit is a little awkward. Yet I knit on. Well, I did. But last night I decided I had to progress on a pair of mittens I started months ago--I have no clue when. I ripped them out yet again and finally got a pattern I liked. Just today I probably ripped them out 6 times, although not every time was all the way back to the beginning. Hopefully my notes will be sufficient for mitten #2.


These projects are so lacking in colour! The balls of yarn amuse me, such a monochromatic heap.


While I knit in shades of grey, my Dream in Colour is calling my name. (Mom? Dad? If you've infiltrated this blog, stop reading now. okay?) Amy asked what I'm knitting with it. I have two balls of Smooshy earmarked for parental Christmas socks, pattern as yet undetermined. Then there are 2 balls of Classy, a worsted weight, because I love having Classy sitting around to play with. I'm thinking mittens. Or a hat. Or baby socks, mittens, and hat. Or.....

That's what I get for following instructions

This morning I woke up and started knitting. I carefully measured the sock in progress against finished socks, and on my feet, and determined that I was exactly 2.5 inches away from the end of the foot, and that it was time, according to the instructions, to start the toe decreases. I had a leisurely morning of knitting, shaping the toe, and paused, ready to kitchener, to try it on. TOO SMALL. The toe measures exactly 2 inches from the point I started decreasing, and my toes have to curl up miserably to fit into the sock.

SIGH. Time to rip out, do one more colour repeat, and decrease again. I was so mentally DONE with this sock, too.

Guernsey Literary and Sock Society

When I first posted that I was knitting the St. Peter Port Socks, Priscilla (a fellow librarian, yay!) left me a kind note about the The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society . She said the book made St. Peter Port feel familiar to her, and the idea of having some context for the name of these socks definitely appealed to me.



The bad news: I put a hold on the book at the city library, but I was the 63rd in line. At the county, the hold list was up to the hundreds.

The good news: I just happen to purchase books for a small academic library. And since this book was on the best sellers list, I was able to order the book for our popular reading collection.

The bad news: When the book came in, I neglected to put a note on it when I sent it for processing. So some one else grabbed it off the book cart before I was able to check it out.

The good news: The city library has enough copies that the queue moved quickly and I was able to get the book a couple weeks ago. Thanks, Priscilla, I loved it!

I had envisioned enjoying the book while knitting the St. Peter Port Socks, but I just picked up the book one evening, and finished it the next day. No joint reading and knitting. The first sock is approaching the toe region, but it's been moving slowly. The summer is presenting a lot of obstacles to knitting time.


I do adore the b&w yarns together. It's a stunner for sure.

St. Peter Port Stripes

When I first paged through Nancy Bush's Folk Socks, the socks that spoke loudest to me were the St. Peter Port Stripes. I just adore those socks. They didn't turn out to be the first socks I knit from the book. In fact, I've only knit one other pair in all the time I've known about/owned this book. I did purchase the yarn required to knit this pattern several years ago, and that yarn has rested quietly in my stash.

What a curious thing, the fact that I've wanted to knit these socks all these many years, and even owned the yarn for it, but yet never got around to it! Why did they not ever make it to the top of the queue?

I've decided that their time is now. I am knitting St. Peter Port Stripes.

Singular Sock Wrap-up

In a previous post, I weighed my pine and pumpkin sock yarn and determined I had enough left to make one more sock. In a previouser post, I had examined the finished socks and pondered what project could use up the yarn. In the spirit of serious stash-busting, I went ahead and made another Hiiumaa sock, to match the others and use up what was left. I started it last April on a trip to Seattle, using my nice Comfort Zone needles on the plane. (These needles are in my comfort zone because I'm terrified of having my needles confiscated. I figure the Comfort Zone needles not only aren't metal, but can hardly be threatening in any interpretation.) Unfortunately, the sad truth is, while I admire double points, finding them aesthetically pleasing, and they appeal strongly to my vintage sensibilities, I just don't like knitting with them at all. Thus, the entire sock has been a pain in the bum to knit.

Two nights ago I was finally about to start the toe decreases, and the menfolk came into the room to chat. I showed them the sock, along with how much green yarn was remaining.

#1Man, with a sigh: Does this mean you need to buy more yarn?
Me: No, it just means the sock will have an orange toe.
#1Son: That's what I love about homemade socks. You work with what you've got, and they always turn out cooler than any other socks.

Yes, the #1Son does deserve many, many pairs of socks.



So I began knitting the decreases, and immediately discovered a grievous error. While 3 needles had 18 stitches, as they should, 1 needle had 21 stitches. Very, very wrong. The error originated from some anomaly in the gusset decreases, this I am sure. I cannot offer a satisfactory explanation. I can only say that I completed the gusset decreases during a lunch hour at work, sitting outside in the shade during a hot desert noon, listening to Orson Scott Card's Shadow Puppets on my mp3 player. Apparently I was distracted enough not to count thoroughly and notice that while the first decrease needle was at the right spot, the second one most certainly was not.

Then I began to agonize. Clearly, the extra three stitches over the course of the sock were responsible for me running out of yarn. I had a choice: rip back to the decreases, fix, and reknit the foot, or just proceed. I articulated the question:

If I knit forward, making the toe orange, will it be a visual reminder of my failure and mistakes? Or will it be a powerful symbol of my flexibility and adaptability?

The menfolk clearly couldn't see that an extra three stitches on one needle was any thing to get upset about and certainly couldn't see why I would have to rip back. I decided to adopt their casual attitude and proceeded, using what green remained to make an echo of the cuff pattern. And I am very pleased with how it turned out! I'm happy, not annoyed, that I didn't rip back, and delighted with how the toe looks.


These five socks in the photo began with four balls of Knit Picks Essential. All that remains is that tiny little length of pumpkin yarn. Not a bad output from four balls of yarn.

Road trip wrap up post #4

From my sister-in-law comes a treasure, on loan.

These antique sock blockers came to her from her daughter, with special but secret meaning relating to their origin. But they don't see much sock-blocking action, so for now, they will be treasured here, blocking socks as they are made to do, but will return to their previous domicile at an unnamed date in the future.

This last is a good picture of the Whidbey-Kiwandis Socks, which have been difficult to capture visually.

Singular sock progress

Probably because I started it in April, this singular Hiiumaa sock has seemed to drag on and on. I am pushing to finish it up before I succumb to the temptation to start a new pair. I'm running low on green yarn and i'm curious to see what will end first- the yarn or the sock.

Road trip wrap-up post #3

So I've gotten into the habit of knitting from Knitting on the Road whenever I'm away from home. It's a cutesy little habit, but fun. This time I upped the cute factor by casting on the Friday Harbor socks on Whidbey Island. We didn't actually make it to Friday Harbor this trip, but we stayed in Anacortes, and spent a day on Whidbey Island, the very places she references in her description of the pattern.



Pattern: Friday Harbor from Knitting on the Road
Yarn: Mountain Colors. I've lost the tag on this yarn. I thought it was the yarn called for in the book, but I also thought it was Bearfoot, and the pattern called for Weavers Wool. So I'm all confused. Ravelry calls Bearfoot fingering, and this is chunkier than fingering. So I just remain confused.



Needle: Size 5 Knitpicks circular. The pattern called for a size 2 needle, so I'd brought along a size 3, expecting to use that. I was swatching in the car on our drive from Anacortes to Langley, and I was so very impatient to get knitting. Size 3 didn't give me gauge, so I pulled out my set of interchangable needles, but size 4 didn't give me gauge, either. I was so relieved that size 5 worked, because then I could STOP SWATCHING AND START KNITTING. Unfortunately, I had stitch gauge but not row gauge, and thus wound up running out of space on the foot before I'd properly completed the second chart.



While it seems like a flagrant act of insubordination to knit Nancy Bush socks on circular needles, I'm just not such a fan of double points. I was grateful that I knew the cuff chart involved a little tweaking and knit-reading on the part of the knitter. If you follow the chart blindly, it comes out wrong. I knit each cuff, heel, and toe separately, and worked the legs and feet together, magic loop style, on the circulars.



The cuffs and legs were knit in the Puget Sound area. The first heel was knit in Wenatchee. The second heel was knit on the beach in Pacific City, Oregon. The feet and toes were completed on the long drive home.

Thrice as nice

Live from baggage claim... Travelers every where are celebrating the sock's progress. It has tripled its length during travel. Sadly, it will be promptly neglected.

Knitting on the road

Live from the SeaTac airport... Yes i had several works in progress, but i always like a special travel project. This shows my total progress for the short trip. I did have to rip out several rows yesterday because apparently i cannot count to 3 while attending class.

A Conversation

I was sitting at a film, knitting while waiting for the event to start. The gentleman next to me inquired what I was knitting, and I told him it was a shawl, and showed him the picture on the pattern of the candle-flame design.

He: A good friend of mine has become really well known around the world as a knitting expert.

Me: Oh really?

He: Yes, maybe you've heard of her? Nancy Bush

Me: (have I heard of her? have I heard of her???? but I'm so cool and just say,) I have her books

He: In fact we just had dinner with them the other week. I grew up with her.

Me: (I pull my foot up from the darkness so he can see my Lost Lornas and say) She designed these socks!

He went on to tell me a little about her, nothing that isn't already in the common Nancy Bush lore, how she just travels the world looking at yarn, how she had the foresight to close down the physical shop Wooly West and just go online.

When will it be my job to travel the world, looking at yarn...

In Candle Flame news, I've finished 3 repeats and am 15 inches into it.

Lost Lorna--the Finished Object

Meet the Lost Lornas of Madrid fraternal twins...



Yarn: Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock, bittersweet
Needle: size 2 knit picks circular
Pattern: Conwy from Knitting on the Road

Cast on: May, on a transatlantic flight
Cast off: Oct 2007
Notes: These socks have traveled to Spain, Canada, Idaho, Seattle, and Park City. Yarn was purchased from Seattle and Colorado. These are well-traveled socks. I knit them to the recommended gauge, but the fabric seems loose and flimsy to me. I wove yarn into the bottom of the heel to add reinforcement, as I don't trust these socks to be very resilient. They are fraternal, being knit with 2 different dye lots. Additionally, there was a mistake in how I knitted the first sock, so each sock has a different variation on the Conwy pattern.

Knitting on the road

 

I have returned from Seattle! It has been a bit of an interesting trip. Many of my classmates are graduating, and the rest of us see the end in sight. Hence we were all aware that it was coming towards the end. For me, I realized while I was there that it was the second-to-last residency.

There was some yarn shopping, although only one ball of yarn. Picture to come...

And there was much knitting. Even knitting in class, which sparked a discussion of knitting and patterns as a form of tangible information. I have an exciting paper in the works.

Being that I was On The Road, it was natural to work on my Knitting on the Road socks, the much traveled Lost Lornas of Madrid. They're approaching the toes!

Silver Lining

A day that starts out with an unexpected ocular event is not all bad. While I had planned to go to water aerobics rather than spend my midday in optical triage, I got 3 happy hours away from work, which included a great deal of knitting time. Sometimes fuzzy, blurry knitting while my pupils slowly dilated, but I wasn't complaining. Enough that I was able to finish the Hiiumaas tonight. I was running low on yarn, and was watching the yarn as I decreased, thinking I still might make it to the end of the sock. Turns out I had to attach another ball when I had only 21 stitches left on the needle. Oh well! And for now my vision is fine, and I will be in to see a specialist as soon as possible to see if there are any lingering problems.

off the road again

Back home, and this is what I have to show for the weekend of traveling. Wheee.

Traveling albums:

• English Beat's Special Beat Service (also digitised from vinyl)
  
• Pogues' If I Should Fall From Grace With God
  
• Sarah McLachlan's Afterglow
  

on the road again...

220 some miles, 3 albums, 2 potty stops, 1 Subway stop, and a pack of gum later, I have this:

Road trip albums were:

• Jack Johnson's Brushfire Fairytales
  
• English Beat's I Just Can't Stop It (Digitised from our vinyl)
  
• Joyce's Astronauta: Songs of Elis