Here are the socks that I started on the train to Seattle, and worked on intermittently while waiting in lines and whenever I had a few spare moments. It’s amazing how those little minutes here and there really add up!

I was up to the gusset increases when I got back. Since then I’ve finished the gussets and I’m in the middle of turning the first heel.

This is STR in colorway County Clare. The pattern on the top of the instep is a simple K2tog/yo/k6 pattern that moves one stitch to the right every round.

No, those are not my regular trusty Inox Greys. Those are a pair of the new Knitpicks needles – the “classic” circular needles (i.e. ones with fixed cable joins).

What do I think about these needles? Hmmm… The jury is still out. I love the cables. The cables are just simply awesome and I can’t say enough about them. And the joins are very good. Certainly the points are sharp. And the length is good. I didn’t find the length at all annoying going through the gusset increases. But there’s just something… I find myself splitting the yarn a lot, which is not usual for me. And sometimes there something on the tip that snags, although I can’t find any rough spots. They’re not as “fast” as an Addi. But faster than wood. I don’t know. These are a size US#1 (2.5 mm). I might try a size 0 (2.0 mm) and see if my hands can take it or if my fingers get too sore. Certainly the price is right for that kind of experiment. I will report back.

BTW, when I ordered these from the Knitpicks site, I received an email saying that orders were very backlogged and thanks for my patience. But I still received them within a week – in time to take to Victoria with me. (I took the Inox Greys also, just in case.)

Lori Rode – my new shoes were made by Ecco. I got them at The Walking Company store at Washington Square. If you haven’t shopped there, I really recommend them. They’ve got a ton of comfortable shoes of all styles.

Stephanie – How are the socks coming? Did you get that heel turned?

Deb – There’s a Lush here now? That’s dangerous!

But no thanks to TSA. Security measures at the Victoria Clipper terminal were fairly insane. In stark contrast to the security measures at the Amtrak station, which were totally non-existent. See the whole story of my homeward journey towards the bottom.

The first picture is of the moon rising over Victoria Monday night. I sat and watched it for a long time. It was soooo big and sooo bright. Just amazing. Be sure to click on the picture to see the biggy size version.

I walked around a lot on Tuesday. I was tired when I left for vacation. But when I woke up Tuesday morning, already I felt energized. A little overcast weather wasn’t going to stop me! I was rarin’ to go. I signed up for a Victoria Harbor Water Taxi tour up the gorge to the reversing waterfall. The gorge is a fjord off the harbor, and the fall reverses when the tide changes. The water taxis are the cutest little boats! I understand that they do a little dance thing around the Harbor on Sundays — I heard it compared to the hippo ballet in Fantasia, only on water. I was sorry not to be there on Sunday to see it.

Did I mention that there was yarn in Victoria? Well… OK… maybe just a little bit of it. And maybe I found some at Beehive Wool Shop. This is a simply amazing little local yarn shop that has been serving Victoria for (get this) 100 years. Isn’t that amazing? And they had lots of yarn! The store is simply packed, all the way up to the rafters. This picture shows only about 1/2 of the store.

Somehow, some yarn managed to find its way into the shopping basket that the helpful clerk handed me as I wandered around. Go figure.

It’s mostly sock yarn. But the Sea Silk at the very bottom of the bottom picture I’m saving for a special something. Sea Silk is made from silk (duh) and… get this… seaweed. It has amazing drape and sheen. I can’t wait to knit with this stuff. I wish I could have afforded more of it.

This yarn, along with the yarn for Clapotis #2 which I had every intention of working on but didn’t quite get to, cushioned my taboo electronics during the long sea voyage. Everything arrived in working order. Yarn is good for many things! 😉

Lest you think that no knitting was accomplished, however, let me tell you that I carried around a couple of balls of yarn and some needles in my purse and I knit whenever I was waiting — in line, to be served, in the train, in the Clipper. It’s STR in a colorway called “County Clare” that’s a mix of blue, greens and gray. I’m knitting socks (natch) in a diagonal yo pattern. I’m almost up to the gusset increases. Which isn’t bad, I think.

This picture is of the Inner Harbor on Wednesday morning. Wednesday was the best day, weather wise. Tuesday was overcast, and there was a little tiny bit of drizzle late in the day. On Thursday when I left it was raining. But Wednesday was glorious.

Wednesday was supposed to be my spa day, because it was forecast to be the rain day. But how can you stay inside when the weather is like this? Fortunately my spa appointment wasn’t until 3:45, so I had lots of time to walk around and enjoy Victoria.

I decided to take a little horse-and-buggy tour of the city, which I’d never be able to get away with if #1 Son were with me! We went through the park and some of the old neighborhoods of Victoria and a sedate walk. Lots of people took pictures of us. I waved. It’s funny to think that I will end up in lots of people’s vacation scrapbooks.

After the spa appointment, I went back to my room. I heard a marching band outside, and went out on my balcony to find this. That’s right, gentle reader, even from 10 stories up and a block away, I could spot men in kilts! Oh, yeah!

It was raining when I woke up Thursday morning. I fancied that the city was sorry to see me go. But it was time to head for home.

On the clipper, we were each allowed only one small bag, like a purse, as carry-on. Everything else had to be checked. As did all electronic equipment — cell phones, laptops, PDAs, cameras. But liquids were OK. I had a visible bottle of water in an exterior pocket of my purse, and nobody cared. I wasn’t asked about toothpaste or eye drops or anything like that. Those were all fine. My ID was checked three times at different stages of the boarding process. (Why would I go through Immigration on one ID but board on a different ID? Inquiring minds want to know.)

There were a few people waiting to go through Immigration who “forgot” to check their cell phones. Darn it, they said smugly. Oh well. They weren’t quite so smug when their cell phones, etc., were confiscated at the xray machine and tossed in a bag to be sent with the rest of the baggage. I was happy I’d played fair because the nice check-in person had put a fragile sticker on my small bag after I put all of my electronics in there. The bag contained nothing but yarn, anyway, so I was fairly certain that my stuff would make it through OK. I felt very naked without camera, cell phone and Palm (aka “my brain”).

One of my fellow passengers questioned my knitting needles being allowed. I promised not to stab her with them, for which I was awarded a very startled look.

Since everybody had to check absolutely everything, the Clipper was about 2 hours late. I was OK. It just cut my wait time in the Seattle train station down to a reasonable 30 minutes or so and there was no mad dash to the train station as there had been on my outbound trip. I do feel for those who were leaving the Clipper terminal only to face the madness of the airport. That can’t have been fun!

At the train station, a big sign read Due to construction we are unable to check any luggage. Yeppers, ya had to carry it all on with you. Nobody looked at my ID ever. Nobody looked at my ticket until after the train had left the station with me aboard it. It was a refreshing change. But I did sort of wonder why we expect terrorists to take ferries, and therefore suspect all passengers of having nefarious intentions. But not trains or train riders.

#1 Son was supposed to pick me up from the train station, but he had called to let me know that his band was playing a show and he wouldn’t be able to come. But he did park my car at the train station, so I could drive home instead of taking Max or a cab. And he thought up that solution all by himself! I though it was pretty clever.

Until I started wandering around parking lots trying to find my car. It’s a fairly distinctive car and should be easy to spot. Should be. I finally called him and asked where, exactly, had he parked it? Oh, he said it wasn’t exactly at the train station. It was probably closer to the Greyhound depot. I should try over there.

Sigh.

I was glad to be home in my own bed with my cats around me.

You can see more pictures from Victoria by clicking here or from the Galleries page.

Or, I should say, cars, trains and boats.

I asked #1 Son to give me a ride to the train station yesterday morning. Like many teenagers, he’s chronically late, so I planned for an early start. Counting backwards on my fingers and figuring in rush-hour traffic, I thought that leaving at 7:30 should get me to the station with plenty of time to spare before the train left at 8:45. It seemed like a good plan. I like a little bit of leeway and don’t mind waiting. I had yarn and needles in my purse.

At 7:20, we were both ready to go. All I needed to do was feed the cats. Let me just feed the cats and then we’ll go, I said. I can feed the cats in 90 seconds flat. Feeding accomplished, I turned and saw #1 Son — eating a bowl of cereal and drinking a cup of coffee, both poured since the cat feeding started.

Son feeding was not in the schedule at that time. It should have already been accomplished.

Let’s go, please I said. Note the polite delivery.

I’ll admit that it didn’t take him very long to eat. We headed out to his car, where he loaded my bag into an already crammed back end (it’s a station wagon).

Just a sec He said. I want to grab a couple of things. I waited. He came back with a few things he’d pilfered from the house and put them in the back seat. Just one more load he said.

I looked at the clock. I cast on a pair of socks and started knitting.

He came back with an item that in no way would fit into the car given the number of items already in residence. Not a chance. He started juggling things around trying to get it to fit. I didn’t fit. I knit faster.

Maybe you could come back for that later, I said. We’re running a little late.

He wasn’t too happy about that. But he put the thing in the garage and got in the car. We started off. I knit.

He got on the freeway.

It’s rush hour, I said helpfully. Maybe a different route would be faster?

You’ll be fine. You worry too much.

The clock spun towards 8:15. I knit. 8:20. Increase row. 8:25. Knit. Knit. Knit. 8:30.

I started sweating. Just a little.

I don’t think we’re going to make it.

You’ll be fine. You worry too much.

We pulled up in front of the station at (I’m not kidding, here) 8:44. #1 Son grabbed my bag while I ran into the station yelling Seattle train! Seattle train!

I had my reservation, but not my ticket. The man at the ticket counter radioed the train one more! and frantically got my ticket ready. sign here… and here… now RUN!

I grabbed my bag from #1 Son, yelled kiss kiss, I love you! over my shoulder, and RAN!

Down here, down here! The conductor yelled. He opened a door for me, put out the little step, and told me to just sit at a table (it was the dining car) and he’d sort me out later. (But will there be a sorting hat? I wanted to ask.)

No sooner had I sat down than the train left the station. Whew.

And this, of course, almost guaranteed that the Victoria Clipper would be running late. It was 2-1/2 hours late. I don’t ever remember that happening before. But, I’m pleased to report that, after standing (standing) in line for 2-1/2 hours, my feet didn’t hurt. So the new shoes I got for this trip were worth the price!

I was supposed to have a “view room.” The room I was booked into had a view… of the roof. I called the front desk and asked if there was a room available on a higher floor. There was. It’s all the way at the top, and I can see everything forever.

And, as I sat on my balcony sipping tea and watching the lights on the inner harbor, the reason for the day’s close calls and weird connections became abundantly clear as I watched an enormous full moon rise over Victoria.

The socks I started in the car? I frogged them out on the train. It was pretty obvious that I wasn’t paying much attention to what I was doing!

And now I’m off to do a little sight seeing and shopping.

Thanks for the good wishes ya’ll left in the comments. There will be pictures when I get back, but I don’t have any way to download them from my camera right now.

The Mudstone socks were finished today just in time to catch the last of the late afternoon light. They are visiting the honeysuckle growing on what I like to call the “ugly fence.”

Frank Lloyd Wright once said something like… a doctor can bury his mistakes, but an architect can only plant vines. I’m not responsible for the ugly fence. My former neighbors were. I have no idea why they felt compelled to build a fence that doesn’t match any other fence in the neighborhood. But I liked them. They were nice people. I planted vines.

So, the Mudstone socks are finished. I’m OK with how they came out. They’re not my favorite pair of socks. But I like the colors and they fit very well. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do at the top. After futzing around for awhile, I finally just did a 1×1 rib using the Mudslide color, topped with a crochet bind-off.

Here is the shadow knitting revealed in all its hard-to-read glory. Use your imagination just a little here, please. Tilt your head slightly to the right. Starting from just above the heel and going up the right side, it says SOCK. Now tilt your head slightly to the left. Starting at the top and going down the left side, it says SOCK. See it? Do you? Click on the pic for the biggy version.

Yeah… not that successful, eh? When they’re on, I can’t read it at all. Oh well.

Shall we call it purl as you go? 🙄

There won’t be much bloggage for the next few days.

Remember how desserts is stressed spelled backwards? Yeah, well… I’ve been hitting the desserts pretty hard lately.

So I’m heading off for a much needed and long over due little jaunt away from town. I’m heading up north to the fair city of Victoria, BC. If you have never had the chance to visit Victoria, it’s a charming city where almost everywhere is within walking distance or a short bus hop. The weather is lovely and the people are friendly and I always have a wonderful time there. Also, there is Lush and Roger’s Chocolates, and I hear there might even be a yarn store! 😉

Victoria also has the advantage of not being terribly far away from home, and at the end of a ride on my two favorite forms of transportation: trains and boats. I could drive to Victoria. But why do that when I can take a train and a catamaran?

If I can find an internet cafe in Victoria, I’ll check in with y’all. If not, I won’t be gone very long. Just a short out-of-town break.

#1 Son isn’t going with me. He has to work. And it’s good that he has a job. But I’m sorry he can’t go.

The blueberry cheesecake tartlet is courtesy of the bakery where #1 Son is employed. I really felt like I should have presented it in a somewhat more arty fashion, rather than just tossing it down on the table. But in the end I just took a picture and then ate it. Yeah… it was that good.

Being a parent can be tough. It would be so much easier if offspring came with user manuals or some kind of documentation. And not the kind that was translated badly by people who weren’t really on speaking terms with either the original language or English. But a good manual. The kind where there’s an extensive index in the back, and you just need to look up something like clean bedroom, how to enforce without battle and find all the answers. Wouldn’t that be handy?

I will never, ever claim to be the best parent in the world. But I have to admit that I did somehow bumble around and manage to do a couple of things adequately. For example, I raised my son to be a hard working, responsible member of society. And in return for that, I got a son who is now working in a small, locally owned…

bakery

… specializing in handcrafted breads, pies and pastries made from local, farm-fresh ingredients. Just think of the possibilities, there. I mean… did I do something right here or what?

Yesterday #1 Son called. He’d locked his keys in his car. Could I come by and let him borrow my keys? (It’s so nice to know he still needs his mom every now and then.) I could and did. The bakery was officially closed. But did I want a little something to take home with me?

And that, gentle readers, was how I scored a shaved-very-thin, piled high ham-and-cheese sandwich on a wonderful French roll along with a (get this) cheesecake tart. That’s right. Cheesecake.

Have you caught on that I’m rather fond of cheesecake? I should have take a picture of it, because it was lovely. But, alas, I ate it. 😆

Not much knitting has happened due to other meaningless pursuits like work that are taking up all of my good knitting time.

Those of you who guessed that the Mudstone sock cuffs were shadow or illusion knitting were indeed correct. I didn’t like the way it was coming out. It occurred to me that I was knitting the colors backwards, so that it was easier to read from the foot up rather than from the top down. Reasoning that not many people would be looking at my socks from the ground up (I’m so sharp), I frogged it out and started over. It’s better this time. But I don’t think I’ll reveal what it is until I get it finished. (It’s not a ship’s anchor.)

If it still comes out wonky and hard to decipher, then I’ll just say that Dave was correct and it’s “purl as you can.” In fact, from now on I think that if I’m knitting something that I’m not sure what it is, I’ll just ask the general public and pick the answer that sounds right.

I threw all of the names of the correct guessers into a hat and Kat’s name was drawn. So, Kat, if you will email me your snail mail address I’ll reach into my stash and find something fun to send your way.