When I arrived at the regular Thursday Tangle knitting night, the first thing my fellow knitsters asked me was are they done yet?

No, gentle reader, they are not done. Yet. I have about 10 more rounds of pattern and then an inch of ribbing, and then they’ll be done. Pics tomorrow, I hope. Because I still need to knit at least 4 inches (preferably 6-1/2″) on the class socks by next Tuesday, and I have all of about, oh… two rounds knit. Yeah.

Deadlines + Judy = not a happy combination.

In the rest of my life I can meet deadlines. But knitting? It’s just not happening.

KarenK from OR suggests:

It looks like you’re using two circs – try using one size smaller needle for the heel and sole stitches than for the instep stitches – it makes for a firmer and longer-wearing fabric on the bottom of the foot. There is a slight difference in row gauge but I make a couple of short rows on the sole as it’s worked, and it makes up for that.

Thanks for the suggestion, KarenK. I usually try for a firm fabric all the way around. I’m a fairly tight knitter, so the sizes I mentioned in my last post give me a pretty firm gauge. But I can see that if I needed to use a looser gauge on the instep for some reason, that knitting with a smaller needle on the sole would work well. I’ll definitely store that away in the hint book!

I hope that your part of Oregon isn’t too wet. I see that the next storms in line are coming today and Sunday.

~Kristie asks:

If I want to knit a pair of socks as a gift, & I only know the recipients shoe size, is their a “tried-and-true” pattern that works for all feet?

I don’t know of a “universal” pattern. You can find patterns out on the web that have instructions for multiple sizes. Also on the web, if you google something like shoe sizes in inches you’ll find a chart that tells you how long a shoe size is in inches. An average foot is approximately square – i.e. if the shoe size is 9-1/2″ long, then the person’s foot is probably about 9-1/2″ in circumference. Of course, nobody’s feet are average. But that’s why ribbing was invented. 😆 If I’m knitting for a man, I usually go for a subtle rib, like a K3P1 or something similar. Just enough to give some stretch, but not enough to yell ribbing. If I’m knitting for a woman, I might try for something a little bit fancier, like a traveling rib. But I’d keep to a pattern that had a lot of stretch in it and make sure that I had some negative ease in the width. Hope that helped!

Of course, I’m ignoring my own advice by knitting Jaywalkers – a not-very-stretchy pattern – for someone whose feet I have only a vague idea of sizing for. Yeah. Do as I say, gentle readers, and not as I do. 😉

So I didn’t get the Jaywalkers finished by the time my class started last night. I found an old pair of Addi Turbos I could start my class socks on. I am punishing myself by refusing to take the Jaywalkers off the Knitpicks needles until they are finished. Not that I have anything against Addis. I don’t really prefer them for knitting socks, though, because of the blunt points. And this pair has one needle that’s bent.

I decided to knit a pair of socks along with my class this time. I don’t usually do that, but I’m all for trying new things to find out what works best. In the past I’ve used large needles and bulky yarn to demonstrate because I thought that would be easier for people to see. But it turned out that people had a hard time translating that back to sock-sized needles and yarn. So this time we’re having a little sock class KAL. And I have cast on some really lovely Socks That Rock in a colorway called downpour that I picked up a the Oregon Flock & Fiber Festival. It’s a manly mix of browns and grays that fits right in with the current weather up here in the Pacific Northwest. Lately I’ve considered commuting to work via canoe.

The class socks are meant for the same recipient as the doomed Socktober Socks #1. But, as not to jinx my newly returned sock mojo, I am referring to them only as the “class socks.” I need to be up to the gussets by next Tuesday. And if I want to be doing that on the Knitpicks needles, I gotta be finishin’ those blasted Jaywalkers.

I tell you, gentle reader, these socks are just interminable. I’ve been in the knitting black hole since I cast on the toes. You can see from the picture that I’m getting closer to the end, though. Another couple of inches and I can do the ribbing and be done. They go over my heel with no problem, so I think the fit will be fine. And I do like the yarn and the color, which I would definitely knit again. I don’t think I’ll knit Jaywalkers again, though.

And what, you may ask, happened to my trusty Inox Greys that have knit so many pair of happy socks? Why am I reduced to casting onto a bent Addi? 🙁 Both Knitpicks and Addi US#1 needles are 2.5mm and US#2 are 3mm. My beloved Inox US#2 are 2.75mm and Inox US#1 are 2.25mm. Alas, never the twain shall meet. And with my knitting, at least, that .25mm difference between needles is enough to change my gauge. While I love having so many options, it means I can’t switch with impunity between Knitpicks and Inox. Thus the Addis.

Now… two pairs of socks to get moving… because I really, really, really want to start that sweater!

Everyone, please cast your ballot tomorrow! Voting is our opportunity and our obligation. And while it sometimes seems that our voices are drowned out in the sea of election noise, some races are won or lost on the strength of one tiny voice. Whatever your political opinion is, let it be counted!

Voting, gentle reader, is your ticket to complain. As I tell #1 Son: Ya don’t vote, ya don’t get to bitch.

Besides, waiting in line at the polls is an excellent opportunity to flash your sticks in public! So get out there and knit the vote!

Oregon voters, remember that it’s way too late to mail your ballot in. Please take it to any of the official drop-off sites or to your county elections office by 8:00PM Tuesday.

It was bright where I grew up. The summers, although short, were hot and sunny. The winter was often sunny, too — very cold and sunny with the light blazing off the snow. When the weather changed, the sky became white and the snow would come and the world turned black and white until the sun came out again.

Then I moved to Portland. After more then 30 years here, I’m still surprised at how dark the winter is. It rains here. Not always a lot… but always. It mists, drizzles, pours, splatters, spits and drenches. Always. No white skies here. The sky is dark and angry and presses down like a heavy, wet wool blanket until sometimes I want to scream for a bit of light an air. Just a bit!

And sometimes winter hands me a tiny, unexpected glimpse of summer that makes the darkness bearable and reminds me that it might be gloomy and wet — but you don’t have to shovel rain. And makes me remember that I never realized how bright colors were until I moved here, existed through an interminable winter, and saw the sun emerge in spring.

I looked out my back door yesterday at the grape vines. Most of the leaves are off the vines and are clumping soddenly on my patio, turning into slimy leaf-mush. I raised my eyes from the patio, considering whether I should think about the pruning yet. And there, in one corner hung a long bunch of grapes. Hidden by leaves, I had missed it when I harvested in September. All through October it had hung there, through storm and marauding ‘coons. Some of the grapes were, shall we say, a bit past their prime. But at least half were edible. And eat them I did, savoring their sweetness and almost feeling the warm September sun through my closed eyelids.

OK. It can be winter now. I will exist until the color returns. I don’t have to shovel the rain.

Perhaps it was the grapes, or maybe just the knowledge that I need to get those blasted Jaywalkers finished by next Tuesday because I need the needles for something else. I pressed on with renewed vigor and have turned the heels and started up the ankles.

I am pleased to report that the feet are not too wide and, so far at least, I can still get them on over my heel. They are a tiny, tiny bit wide on me, but the intended recipient has slightly wider feet than mine. The yarn – Regia Silk Colors – is wonderfully stretchy for a silk-blend yarn. Probably because it’s a fairly small percentage of silk — just enough to add a lovely sheen and soft hand. I really do love knitting with it. Hopefully I will have pictures tomorrow. We’ll see. I have until bedtime on Monday to have them off the needles.

We all know how well I do with deadlines, eh? But I’m feeling the mojo so I have hope.

I always think that socks are going to be too wide. Always. I look at them and look at them, and even try them on at the half-foot stage, and I’m positive they will be too wide. Once I get up past the gussets and try them one, then they’re fine. Not too wide at all. But if left to my own devices and my eye rather than a ruler, I’d probably knit socks that were too skinny to fit anyone. It’s weird how my eye does not judge sock widths well at all, when I can judge widths of other things just fine and I’m usually right on with the length.

Is there anything you knit that always looks “wrong,” even when it’s perfect?

My nearest and dearest would probably universally agree that I am easily distracted by bright shiny objects. (Don’t look over at the list of UFOs! That’s not really there. It’s a figment of your imagination.)

But take a look at this bag! I got to see this very bag up close and personal last night, and it is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. See those bright, shiny disks on the front? Those are pennies, gentle reader. It’s like your favorite pair of penny loafers, only much, much better. And the construction is so cool! The ends fold in all by themselves at just the right angle. And the handle is wrapped with leather!

This beauty is the brain child of Portland’s own Marta McCall. I know you’ve seen her designs in places like Interweave Knits. Now Marta’s patterns are available directly via her own company: TinkkniT.com

Marta’s patterns come complete with sourcing information for the materials used, so you, yourself, gentle reader, can exactly duplicate this marvelous bag or any of her other great designs. How cool is that? I hate it when I find a pattern I love only to read that the yarn was hand-spun by 100-year-old artisans high in the Andes who used only alpaca wool gathered from where it had caught on twigs during the spring molt and then twisted using a secret process handed down from master to apprentice since the time of the Incas and the yarn is then washed in herbs grown only above 10,000 ft and the designer made a special trip by llama to purchase the yarn and that no more is available because, don’t you know, it takes 100 years to gather enough wool. Yeah. What do you substitute for that?

None of that with Marta’s patterns. If you want to substitute, of course you can. But if not, Marta makes sure that the material will be available through the source before including it in the pattern and releasing it into the wild. Thank you Marta!

Everyone… go over to TinkkniT.com and check out the very, very cool products. I’m really taken by the Cheery O’s Pillow… and the Felted Purls… and the Shibori Scarf… and the Urban Wrapper…

Must… be… strong…

Thank you to those of you who comments to let me know that I’m not the only one having… shall we say challenges… with the Jaywalker pattern. It’s always good to know I’m not alone.

#1 Son is in Baltimore today, I think. I have three sets of conflicting tour dates for the Northeast. He’s been pretty good about calling me every couple of days. He hasn’t quite got the time-zone thing down yet, and called early yesterday to let me know:

• The weird noise the van was making went away when the part in question broke. The mechanic said they didn’t really need it anyway.
• Yes, the van was leaking gas, but they wrapped the hose with duct tape so it only leaked a little, the van didn’t blow up and the hose has been fixed now.
• He met a girl in Austin, he’s been talking to her every day, and she might come to Portland to visit.

That conversation woke me up, all right! The last time I visited my colorist, she said I’m almost completely gray now. 🙄 Keep beaming those good-weather thoughts towards the Northeast.

And here is the progress on Socktober Socks #2. Not much. #1 went to the frog pond, as you will recall, because I was happy with neither the sock nor the yarn and the socks just flat out refused to be knit.

I want to like these Jaywalkers. I really do. I love the colors. I love the yarn — soft and sleek and just the right amount of stretchy. I want to finish these Jaywalkers. I really do.

It appears that they may be too wide.

I mean… WTF?!?!?!?!? Everyone else at the four corners of Blogistan has problems with Jaywalkers that are too narrow. But not Judy! Noooooo! Judy knits Jaywalkers that are too wide. Oh hallelujah. Good job Judy!

Of course, being only part way up the foot (almost to the gusset, though), this might change. If they’re just too wide for the intended recipient (who has smaller feet than I), then I’ll keep them for myself. Which means I have to knit two more pairs of socks before Christmas. And it’s leaving me wondering…

Did I jinx myself thoroughly by signing up for Socktober?

Have I lost my sock mojo?

Oh… say it isn’t so!

As a tiny diversion to distract you, gentle reader, from the fact that I really have no other knitting content and Socktober was not my happiest hour month… This from Wired, and thanks to Jerry of When Knitting Was A Manly Art for the link:

Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words – For sale: baby shoes, never worn. – and is said to have called it his best work. Wired asked sci-fi, fantasy, and horror writers to take a shot at writing a very, very short story. Click here to read the results. Some are amazingly good, and many are quite humorous.