Beach socks

Thank you to everyone who sent get-well wishes. I am feeling a lot better (and back to knitting)!

Don’t know what’s going on with the server PI is housed on. There have been issues the last couple of days. I have been in contact with my host, and hopefully things will get straightened out soon. If you have problems with the site, I can only suggest trying back in a little while to see if it’s working better. If you have continued problems for several hours, please shoot me an email.

I finally, finally, finished the socks I started oh, so long ago! I haven’t been able to come up with a good name for these, so I’ve dubbed them simply The Beach Socks. The yarn was purchased last spring at the Magical Moebius Festival in Newport (down on the coast), so they hail from the beach so to speak. And the colors are very seascape.

The pattern is the Coriolis Sock from Cat Bordhi’s New Pathways for Sock Knitters: Book One. But, true to form, I wanted to try something a little bit different, so I inserted lace, cables and beads into the Coriolis band that winds around the leg.

I tried for the feel of waves foaming against the shore for the lace insert. I think I was fairly successful. Theoretically the Coriolis band can be any width. Mine is 7 stitches wide: two purl stitches to either side of a 5-stitch lace and cable pattern. I couldn’t decide what to do for a cuff, so in the end I just did a simple seed-stitch with the final cable pulled up into the cuff area. I really like the beads that I used, but I didn’t want to get too crazy with them so they are found only inside the lace on the leg. There are no beads on the foot, because they would not be comfortable inside my shoes.

I admit that these are a bit tight to get on, but once on they fit wonderfully well and don’t sag or bag at all. The coriolis band wants to pull the whole sock diagonally a bit. They feel better if I don’t fight with it and just let the leg twirl around a little. You can see from the pictures that there is a slight twist to the leg. If I were to knit these again, I think I’d use a different increase instead of the kfb, which tends, in my knitting, to be tight.

closeup of lace and beads

The closeup shows the seed-stitch cuff and the beads in the lace. The last cable in the cuff also sports a bead.

Strangely enough, I now have no socks on my needles — and that’s probably a good thing because I need to finish a baby sweater by next week.

The Particulars:

• Yarn: Fleece Artist Sea Wool (70% merino, 30% Seacell / 115g, 350m per skein) in an unknown colorway — one skein with a tiny bit left over. This yarn came with a pattern called Bordello Socks
• Needles: two 24″ Addi Lace circulars, US#1 (2.5mm).
• Pattern: Coriolis Socks from New Pathways for Sock Knitters: Book One by Cat Bordhi
• Modification to pattern:
  • I used my own standard heel pattern, which is visually similar to Cat’s but narrower.
  • I attempted to make a longer, narrower whirlpool toe, but was not entirely successful. This is still not my favorite toe for fit, although I love the way it looks.
  • Seed stitch cuff and tubular (i.e. Kitchener) bind-off.
• Techniques used:
  • Knit toe-up, two at a time, on double circulars.

cable crossed incorrectly

Ah… the best laid plans of knitters knitting away over and over again on recalcitrant heels. I would think that those heels were trying to tell me something, except this little issue cropped up only on the third heel iteration — the successful one.

If it ain’t one thing, it’s another.

You can see it. Right there where the blue arrow is. I crossed the middle three stitches over the right-hand three stitches instead of under them. In fact, you can see it in the final picture from my last post — the I have a happy heel and red toes and I’m oh so smart post. It’s right there. I didn’t even notice.

Oops.

Monday at knit night – a knit night that I rarely get to attend but which is always tons of fun – I finished the second heel and turned blithely to the instep and knit across the first sock, turning cables as I went. I reached the second sock. I went to turn the cable.

I am sorry to report that I may have said a few rather unladylike words even though there was a baby present. I’m not sure. I really don’t remember. I only remember sitting there in horror and frustration and saying I will not rip those heels out yet again!

Can’t you just fix it without ripping? Asked Bobbie.

I admitted that I could. But not in Bella Espresso, where the lighting is coffee-house dim. So I went over to Macy’s to look for a new handbag. A little retail therapy, dontcha know. (I didn’t find one. Payback for oaths spoken where wee ears might hear.)

cable tinked back to cross

Once at home, I stationed myself in my brightly-lit kitchen. Now brightly lit, anyway. Gentle reader, have you ever noticed how all of your kitchen lights (assuming you have more than one) burn out at the same time? A couple of weeks ago (three? four?), one of the 7 spotlights in my kitchen burned out. Soon after, another one followed. I started thinking that I really needed to remember to pick up bulbs when next I was at the store. But, somehow although I could remember kitty litter and coffee and bananas, light bulbs totally escaped me at every store visit. Until I got home and turned on the kitchen light and another bulb went pop-sizzle-snap and the kitchen got a little darker. And then I’d think to myself, I really must remember to pick up some bulbs when next I’m at the store. I was down to the bulb over the sink and was cooking mostly by feel when I finally remembered. My kitchen is now a brightly-lit place, but not a place really conducive to taking pictures of shiny knit objects. But I don’t think I did too badly.

At any rate, while waiting for dinner to cook, I stationed myself in the kitchen – now the most brightly lit room in chez PI – and began surgery on the mis-crossed cable.

The first step is to carefully tink just the three mis-crossed stitches back a few rows to the row where the cable was actually crossed. Note that I could have tinked back either the three stitches wrongly crossed over the top, or the three stitches wrongly crossed underneath. I chose to tink on top because those were the first three stitches I came to when working across the instep of this sock.

cable crossed correctly

Once the stitches were tinked back and I was back to where I started, so to speak, I could cross the cable the correct way. All I needed to do was poke the stitches through the little hole that the crossing makes and pick them back up on the back side.

Well, it was a little tricky. Because this is a sock and my gauge is fairly small, I kept the stitches on a spare needle end with the point towards the right. Then I poked the stitches through to the back side, and transfered the stitches to a spare needle end with the point toward the left.

Now I had the cable crossed correctly, and the only thing left to do was to re-knit those stitches up the rows that I had tinked out. The strands of yarn for those rows were just sitting there waiting for me, so it wasn’t too tough to get those stitches reknit. Then I used the tip of my needle to adjust the gauge a little so that everything was nice and even and crossed the right way and the scarring was so minimal that you couldn’t even tell that surgery had been performed.

re-knit and all is well

Ah…. all better. The cable is crossed the right direction and the order of the universe is restored and I can go ahead and start knitting away on the ankles, around and around and around.

I could show you what happens when one picks up the wrong needle end and starts knitting with it. But maybe I’ll leave that story for another day. Because nothing like that would ever happen around here. Nope. 🙄

Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. You gave me much to think about. Most of you talked about knitting socks. Which is no surprise because we talk about socks a lot here. Like, obsessively. Every year I make a resolution to knit fewer socks and more other objects. You can look at the sidebar to see how well I’ve done this year. Yeah. Not a pretty site.

Are you as likely to frog a sweater or scarf or hat as you are to frog a pair of socks? Or do socks somehow seem different or special?

too long

Once upon a time there was a knitter named Frizzylocks who loved Cat Bordhi’s Cables & Corrugations Socks and wanted to knit them more than anything in the whole, wide world.

Now Frizzylocks was one of those knitters who never follows patterns. She always changed something, or tweaked something else, or just plain threw the pattern away and did her own thing. But because Frizzylocks loved the Cables & Corrugations Socks so much, she really wanted to knit them just exactly the way the pattern said to.

So she started knitting, and she knit and she knit and she knit. She followed all of the directions until she was ready to turn the heel, and then she tried the socks on. And, although the gusset seemed a bit wide at the top, for the most part they fit pretty well and the length was great. Smiling happily, she began knitting again, following the heel instructions.

What Frizzylocks hadn’t realized when she tired the socks on was that the heel portion of the pattern would add an entire stitch-pattern repeat, making the socks longer, and the set-up for the sock would add quite a few more increases and make the heel even wider.

When the heel was finished, Frizzylocks tried the sock on again. It was too long. It was way, way too long. And the heel was way wide because Frizzylocks has skinny heels. And Frizzylocks was no longer smiling.

too short

So that’s enough third person fairytale. Because this, unfortunately is most decidedly not a fairytale of any kind. The sock was way too long. The heel was way too wide. There was just no getting around it. You can see it in the first picture up there. It was huge.

The width through the foot was OK, though. And that was certainly nice. You will recall that when I first knit the toes I did not trust the pattern and added extra increases and the toes ended up way, way too wide. I think these socks hate me. And really, I like them a lot and I am trying not to take it personally!

So, anyway, I frogged the heel.

I frogged the heel at knit night at Tangle, and there were gasps all around as I took them off the needles. But it doesn’t fit, I explained. Alice tried the glass slipper red sock on. It fit her. Alice offered to take them off my hands (or feet, as the case may be) once completed. I politely declined. Alice started knitting on a gorgeous basketweave sweater that’s been a UFO for a couple of years now because she’s not feeling the love. I suggested that sweater might be swapped for socks. Alice politely declined.

So I frogged the heel and ripped back two pattern repeats — the one created during the heel set-up, and one extra for good measure. My plan was to knit my standard heel, which is narrower. I really like Cat’s heel – I think it’s lovely and brililant – but it doesn’t fit well on my skinny heels. 😥 So I felt forced – forced, I say – to deviate from the pattern. (I think Cat would understand.)

There’s something about the phrase for good measure that does not bode well when my pursuits are concerned. You will, perhaps, remember the never-ending moebius? The one that 11 knitters fit into? Yeah. I cast on just a few extra stitches for good measure.

You can see from the second picture above that the heel is not too wide. But the sock is also now too short. Way too short. I should have only ripped out one pattern repeat, not two. < sigh >

just right

Third times a charm, gentle reader.

I knit one more pattern repeat. Then I stopped and worked my standard heel. It’s not exactly like Cat’s heel, but it’s visually similar. Actually, the flap is pretty much the same, but the turn is different.

And, as you can see from the third picture, this one is just right! The heel fits, it’s the right length. And Frizzylocks is very happy.

Now to do the same thing on the other sock, and I will be back in business heading up the legs. I may need a few extra stitches on the ankles once I get the cable going up the back. But I’m not worried about that at all since I know from experience that increases are really easy to hide in the purls along the edges of cables.

I almost titled this post Why I Don’t Follow Patterns, but then I went into my little fairytale instead.

But that did send me off on a little navel-gazing tangent — Why don’t I follow patterns? Is it just that I’m a rebel? Or is it fit? Or process? Or maybe all of these? Probably the last. But following the Cables & Corrugations pattern has been difficult, even though I fully intended to follow it. I just keep wanting to stray, and the heels gave me the perfect excuse.

What about you, gentle reader? Do you follow patterns? Why or why not?

Are you more enamored of the process of knitting itself, or is it the finished objects that you create that keep you coming back for more?

Would you prefer to knit objects similar to those you have knit before, or would you rather knit something completely different?

When things go wrong — patterns have errors, the swatch lied, you loath the way the yarn is knitting up, the thing looks sucky on you — what is your reaction? Are you angry at the time lost or the pattern author? Are you discouraged or invigorated? Do you want to fix it at any cost and make it work, or bury it 20 feet deep and never see it again?

As I said, I seem to be in a period of thoughtful introspection, so I would love to hear what you think. There are no right answers or wrong answers – and there are probably different answers for every knitter. If you don’t want to answer in comments, email me at Judy at persistentillusion dot com. I really would like to hear from you…

a rainbow of yarn

Thanks to everyone who posted great places (i.e. yarn shops) to visit in the Boston area. I will try to hit at least a couple.

I have just a tiny bit more yarn pr0n to show you before I go.

I didn’t actually possess this yarn the last time we spoke, but it had been calling to me for months. Every time I went to Tangle I visited it, and petted it, and it talked to me and said take me home, Judy. But I had no project in mind for it, so I was strong and resolute and I put in my earplugs and didn’t listen.

It was hanging on a wall rack with the other lovely, wonderful Blue Heron yarns. Always it hung towards the back of the rack, like a slightly naughty child. But I could always pick it out from across the room. And I would eventually wander over and give it a little pat and say not yet… (You talk to your yarn, don’t you?)

Yesterday, as I plopped down in my favorite Tangle chair and started knitting, I glanced over to the Blue Heron rack.

It wasn’t there!

I felt a momentary twinge of panic. Did someone buy it? Alice had said that many people looked at it and commented about it, but then left it. Maybe it talked loudly enough and went home with someone else! Ack!

Then I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized it was still there. But it was an omen, I decided. So it came home with me.

I don’t know yet what it wants to be. But eventually I will see just the right pattern for it, and then it will be there ready to go. It’s a cotton/rayon/metallic in a colorway called Shadow. I have 425 yard of it, which is enough to do something nice with it. Or it may become a striking edging. We shall see.

Moo Cow the fiber junky
(gratuitous cat picture)

Someone else at my house was interested in it too.

Today the kitties headed over to the Cat Bed & Breakfast for a little fun whilst I trek across the country. I’m not sure how pleased they were. I take that back. I do know. They were not pleased.

Usually I either leave them with tons of food and water, if I’m not going to be gone very long, or I have #1 Son come over and take care of the kitties while the neighbors water the lawn if it needs it and pick up the mail. But #1 Son is on tour and if he is delayed getting home the kitties would be in dire straights. And the Cat B & B is a nice place, as such places go. The only really tough part is rounding them up to get them over there.

It was a hectic day. I first had to pick my friend M up at the airport. She was flying in from a visit with her out-of-town family. Being the geek that I am, I had gone online and set up an email alert to my cell phone for her flight arrival. When it came, it said her flight was early. The airport was a zoo. I fought my way around to the pick-up point through a crowd of insane drivers (is it the full moon?). M wasn’t there. I went around again. No M. I went around a third time. Still no M. (Early flight?)

I drank a big cup of coffee on the way to the airport. By the third time around, I was really hoping to see M. Nature was calling louder than that yarn had. When M wasn’t there, I gritted my teeth and went around again. She was there! Yea! She stuck her head in the window and said her bag still hadn’t shown up and so I should go around again (it’s pick-up only, no parking). I said OK. And as I started off again, I said a few other things under my breath, but gently because my teeth were starting to float if you know what I mean. So instead of going around one more time, I drove away from the airport and far enough down the road that I found a fast-food restaurant where I ran from my car double-quick and ran inside to take advantage of their facilities. With my mind, and other parts of my anatomy, eased, I drove back around the airport, where M was waiting with bag in hand. But I felt a whole lot more relaxed about the whole pick-up thing, and didn’t mind at all driving over to SE Portland to this great little vegetarian Oriental restaurant that #1 Son had turned me on to.

On the way to M’s house after lunch, I mentioned that the kitties were going to the Cat B & B, and how hard they are to catch sometimes when they don’t want to be caught. Be careful not to think about your vacation, M said. Cats pick up on those things and you’ll never find them because they’ll go hide.

So all the way from M’s house to mine, I tried to not think about my vacation.

Do you have vacation coming up? Or maybe dinner? Or a good night’s sleep? Or that project you really need to get to? Try not thinking about it. Go ahead. I’ll wait right here while you give it a go.

What luck did you have not thinking about it?

Yeah.

I pulled into the garage trying to think of other things and mostly not succeeding.

Cat rounding up must be done carefully. Phoebe and Kidd both have a place they can hide where it’s not easy for me to get to them. Once I’ve grabbed one, the jig is up and the other heads for cover. Kidd, once he sees that you’re heading for the garage and so he is destined for a journey, lets go in the same way that I almost did circling the airport to pick up M. So it’s important to keep him… aimed the other direction, if you catch my drift. And all three are big cats. I only have two carriers — a big one that can hold two cats and a smaller one. It can be interesting to stuff a second cat into the big carrier while keeping the first cat still in residence.

So I pulled into the garage trying to think happy catnip, mouse-chasing, kibble-munching thoughts. And not thoughts of vacation and Cat B & B and such.

All three of the kitties were there when I walked in the door. Hmm… I carefully didn’t think… just maybe I could get at least one of them.

I bent down and scratched Phoebe’s head and told her hello, and then just picked her up. She was surprised because she doesn’t like to be held, but she didn’t argue much. It was almost too easy.

Kidd was yawning and stretching on the sofa, only half awake. I carefully didn’t think that I could maybe grab him as well and have the two hard cases wrapped up. I nonchalantly wandered towards the sofa, Phoebe in my arms. Before Kidd knew what had happened, I’d scooped him up, too. I headed towards the garage, only a few feet away.

Now they both knew I was up to something nefarious. Picture this intrepid reporter, arms full of 25 lbs of angry cats, trying to hang on to Phoebe and keep Kidd pointed the other direction while still having one hand free to open the door. If I were an octopus, it might have been easier. Only having two hands made the journey, as short as it was, interesting. I made it to the garage and tipped the big carrier up on end. I put Kidd in and Phoebe right behind him. Whew. Two down.

I cleaned up Kidd’s mess. Missed me, fortunately. And then left Phoebe and Kidd to complain bitterly (and at the top of their lungs) in the garage while I went in search of Moo Cow, The Queen Of The House. She was no longer hanging around the living room. I found her back in my bedroom with a puzzled look on her face. She wasn’t running or hiding because that would not befit her royal station. But she did seem a little miffed that I was doing something not OK with two of her minions. I gave her a reassuring pat while I walked with her to the garage and told her that everything would be just fine, appearances notwithstanding. I’m glad that the small carrier can be opened from the top as well as the side, because Moo can make herself really, really big and plant all of her paws firmly on the sides of the carrier so it’s as difficult as possible to get her inside, and once in she arches her back so you can’t close the top. Tricky is Moo.

I delivered the kitties to the Cat B & B, and gave the staff all my kitty-mom advice: Don’t give Moo anything string-like because she’ll eat it but balls are OK. Don’t give Kidd anything but his regular food because it will make him sick. Phoebe likes her head scratched and sheds when stressed. I almost added wear a sweater if you’re cold, but decided they probably didn’t need that advice.

Margaret just called. Can’t wait to see her. I promised not to drag her around to every yarn store in Massachusetts. She replied You know me. I’ll shop for anything. heh heh She might not know what she’s saying… 😆

[ed. 11:56 pm] P.S. Speaking of lovely things, you must check out Fibergal’s herringbone lace socks. That stitch pattern will need to see my needles soon, I think..

Hi to all you Knitty.com readers that have been hopping over here the last couple of days from the Magic Cast-On article. Please be sure to check out the knotless version, which also has one error in the article corrected (the wrong picture illustrating DPN step 10).

In your life, gentle reader, has there ever been a moment in time when you would give almost anything for a do-over? When you think to yourself, self, what were you thinking? You must have been having a really horrible hair day or something. Ever have that kind of day?

I would give a lot to be able to take back that little knot.

Actually, I offered my first born male child, but there were no takers.

(Just kidding, #1 Son!!! 😆 Really. 😉 You know I love you, sweety. Put on a sweater if you are cold.)

In my own knitting, I don’t like knots and never use them and eliminate them ruthlessly should I encounter them willy-nilly in a skein of yarn (which I loath. Don’t you think that for the price we pay for yarn, we could get a single strand of it?) But I honestly thought it would be easier for other knitters just starting with the Magic Cast-On to keep the first loop on the needle if it were a little slip-knot.

And thus was born a great deal of interweb discussion — to knot, or not to knot, that was the question.

So I will stand up, now: Hi, I’m Judy, and I’m a knotless knitter. I just twist the yarn around the needle to make the first loop, and hold it there with my right-hand index finger.

If you don’t like the knot, you can do that, too. If you don’t mind the knot and want to continue using it, that’s OK also. My motto is: whatever gets loops of string around your pointy sticks is a wonderful technique and you should keep doing it if it feels good. If it doesn’t feel good, then you should try a different technique until you find one that does feel good, and just keep making loops.

I love to sit with a group of knitters and watch the knitting techniques each uses. Everyone hold the yarn a little differently, makes stitches a little differently, knits fast, knits slow… but they are all knitting and producing beautiful fabric. How cool is that?

The Never-Ending Clapotis

It’s the Clapotis that never ends,
and it goes on and on my friends.
Some knitter started knitting it
not knowing what it was,
and she’ll continue knitting it
forever just because
it’s the Clapotis that never ends…

Well. You get the idea.

I really love the first Clapotis I knit. I still get tons of complements on it when I wear it. And I thought that a large Clapotis would be such a great wrap to use in the office, on those days when the air conditioner turns the place into an arctic deep freeze and I want to call Building Services to inquire if they have heard about global warming, and that maybe, just maybe, in some cases a little of it would be OK.

So I started Clapotis #2. It was a long time ago. It’s been listed on the sidebar of shame since the dawn of time, and I found a post in which I bragged (oh, if I could take back the words) of making good progress on it. Two. Years. Ago. Yeah. Real good progress, there, Judy. 🙄

Clapotis #2 is being knit in Elspeth Lavold Silky Tweed. I purchased a number of skeins. Don’t remember how many now, but enough to make a good-sized wrap. With Clapotis #1 I’d had barely enough yarn to finish — there was less than 6″ left, and I’d had to do some creative decreasing to make it. Not wanting to repeat that experience with Clapotis #2, I increased through one skein of yarn. The plan was then to knit the straight part until I had one skein of yarn left. Then work the decreases. I’m glad, now, that I planned it that way because I never would have remembered any other non-standard plan for this long. As we’ve all established, gentle reader, I’m a short-attention-span knitter.

I’m pleased to report that, after some decent knitting time yesterday, I’m down to 1-1/2 balls of yarn. I’m a mere 1/2 of a ball away from starting the decreases. There is actually an end in sight.

Dare I hope I may actually finish this puppy?

The new sock club delivery came yesterday. I have no pictures. I didn’t expect to like every single thing all year. The jury is still out on this one. While this time I do like the pattern, I’m not sure yet about the yarn. We’ll see.

I have many things on my knitting mind right now, anyway. I need to start my Sockapalooza pal’s socks really soon. Really soon. and now that it’s summer again, I’d like to knit the cotton bag that’s been in my head for about a year. I am going to attempt to knit some of those UFOs over there and get them off my list. So I can add new ones. You know how it goes.

It’s quiet around here. #1 Son is off on the road again for three weeks. I had coffee with him yesterday, served along with the usual mom-reminders: drive carefully, be cautious, wear a sweater if you’re cold, eat right, etc. He said, Mom, you’ve told me all that before. You don’t have to keep telling me. I replied that just because your kids grow up doesn’t mean that you stop being a mom, and I was going to keep telling him all that stuff until he was old himself because one of these days, who knows, he might listen. 😉