Presto Change-o

While not technically the last minute, I did wait till rather uncomfortably close to the beginning of NaKniSweMo to start preparing. I decided I would knit the Tilted Duster from the fall 2007 Interweave Knits, and I planned to do it in a dark sage Simply Soft which I adored.



I got home from class at 5:30 this afternoon and because I got a fantastic package from Knit Picks (more on that below), I was anxious to catch the last little bit of sunlight to photograph my bounty. While doing so, I came across the backs of several sweaters, one knit in the very yarn I'd intended for my Tilted Duster. On size 8 needles, it had a beautiful drape and made a delectable fabric. Then I consulted my magazine... the Tilted Duster pattern calls for size 10 needles. Hmm.

I swatched a few rows with my intended yarn and knew right away that there was no way it would make a nice garment at that gauge. The color was perfect, I loved petting it, but it would be a huge waste of time and effort. Everything felt wrong.



I hemmed and hawed a little, while fondling a delicious chocolate brown which I had started to use for my Bristow cardigan last year. I remember thinking that while I loved the yarn, it felt much too bulky for size 4 and 6 needles, and I was dreading working on the Bristow.



I found a third sweater back (have I mentioned I like to start a lot of sweaters?) which was knit in the Bristow yarn, but on size 10 needles. It was perfect. The drape was flowing, yet had structure. The fabric was substantial without being bulky. The yarn seemed happy and aptly suited to the gauge. It suddenly felt right.

I checked both patterns to make sure I could do a yardage swap-a-roo, and the quantities I have of each yarn are even more aptly suited to their respective projects now. The more I think about it, the more I prefer each garment in its new color as well.

It's as if it was meant to be.

Now, since tomorrow is my birthday, I've let myself get away with quite a few acts of yarn gluttony lately. In the recent Knit Picks sale, I went more than a bit nuts. I had purchased a Shine Sport color card a few weeks back, so I was confident that I would be getting what I expected (and boy am I glad I did that). I'm going to keep my intended projects to myself for a little bit, but all these yarns are spoken for, with eager anticipation.

And oh, it is such loveliness to behold. (Click photos to enlarge)



Shine Sport in Crocus. This color just plain makes me happy. I absolutely love it.



Shine Worsted in Grass. Another fabulously saturated color which literally makes my mouth water.



Shine Worsted in Sea Spray. This reminds me a lot of the silver sage I have, but slightly cooler. It's a really subtle, gorgeous color.

I also could not resist their new self-striping sock yarns, which I've been not so subtly lusting after since first laying eyes on them. I was prepared to adore them, but I was pleasantly surprised by just how rich and saturated the color was. Their real-life tones make the monitor versions look dull and anemic by comparison - they are intensely beautiful!



Felici in Arugula.



Felici in Aurora.

Let's just say this knitter is molto, molto felici!

I am really excited to cast on for my Tilted Duster at midnight tonight. My boyfriend is out of town, and I am secretly happy that I can be by myself starting a long-awaited project - it seems like just the right sort of self-indulgent treat for the beginning of one's birthday!

Coachella

That raspberry swathe of stockinette from my last post? That'd be the beginning of Coachella.

It has now proudly reached the Underpants Stage:



Hehehe. I've joined the back with the front and the body, and it's all knit in the round from here. I often knit while reading and studying, so I need some relatively automatic stockinette to keep my hands busy without becoming too distracting.



This color is so beautiful and complex in person, and it photographs so terribly. Or rather, I photograph it terribly.

I have visions of wearing this top under a dark denim jacket or over a denim skirt with a black jacket until next summer.

It's moving so quickly that I could probably finish it along with my NaKniSweMo sweater, but I don't really want to tempt fate, so let's just say... I'm happy and optimistic about its progress.

Organic Growth

I am consistently amused and amazed by the way the pattern develops on the Sun Ray Shawl.



It is such a lovely example of organic growth and natural development.



I quickly knit through two of the 6 or 7 repeats, and I was downright smug with how smoothly it was going. Of course you know where this is going with me and my hubris. In even the most elegant instances of organic growth, one cannot underestimate the role chaos plays in development. (Here chaos takes the form of whiskey).

I picked the shawl up when highly intoxicated and chatting with a friend. I purled one back row, and somehow in that, I'm left with a mess. I'm missing one stitch, somewhere, and I cannot figure out where.

See, my row counter says this:



That can't possibly be true. I must wonder: am I supposed to be on row 60 or row 58? Did I somehow drop my counter and click forward, or did I neglect to click it when I drunkenly purled that row?

I counted the chart, I tried searching the stitches on earlier rows to find an extra stitch or a neglected yarn over. It's been an unpromising search.

"Ah well," I thought, "this is why I put in life lines, and I'll only have to rip back a few rows." To be honest, I was almost looking forward to it, but...



Well shoot. Life lines don't really work if you drunkenly tug them out.

You know what happens when the going gets tough around here, right? Yep, the tough cast on a new project:



I just needed some mindless stockinette. Knitting therapy at its finest. I'm about ready to brave a careful unraveling and some more counting on the Sun Ray now. Wish me luck!

Oh oh oh they're magic...

Fresh off of my Jaywalker euphoria, I cast on for another pair of socks. Well actually, that's not the full story.

(Why are my sock stories always sagas?)



I had this ball of Magic Stripes yarn in the Denim Stripe color way which I bought last Christmas. I'm totally aware of people's feelings about this yarn, but for some reason it just called to me.



While I was still working on my first Jaywalker, I cast on another pair in this yarn and plugged away.

I actually got almost to the heel-turning point before the concept of yardage entered my mind. 330 yards divided by 2 gave me much less yarn than I needed for a full pair. About 25% less. I did some math, I weighed some things, and when it came down to it, I didn't really want Jaywalker anklets badly enough to have to calculate what percentage of the cuff to rip back. I also really didn't want to knit a whole pair of socks constantly sweating the yardage.

I contemplated trying to find another skein in this dye lot (90), but Ravelry turned up empty and I couldn't find it for sale online. It occurred to me that they weren't lying on the package. It really could provide two socks in one ball, just not two Jaywalkers.



A-frogging I went. Man, it never really gets easier.

I decided the best way to handle my predicament was with math. This is probably a strange concept since this whole dilemma started by an aversion to math, but there it is.

I weighed my skein, measured my foot, then... made a gauge swatch. It is indeed the world's twee-est gauge swatch, and I felt ludicrous doing it, but it was informative. I got exactly 8 stitches to the inch, and if I were estimating, I would have said 6.5.




I plugged some numbers into a brilliant worksheet, and suddenly I was casting on for toe-up socks.



The pattern is brilliantly simple (Universal Toe-Up Sock Formula from Knitty, summer 2006). It began with a crochet cast-on, a short-row toe (interesting and very easy), then undoing the crochet, picking up the live stitches and working in the round. I mangled the crochet in unpicking it, but I didn't have any problems with the live stitches.



From there, I just zipped along. During a phone conversation with my mother and brother (they put me on speaker), I finished the foot. When I hung up, I turned the heel in literally a few minutes. I was amazed.

I weighed my sock at this point, minus the weight of the needles (can you tell that my digital scale is my new favorite toy?). It is 32.4 grams, leaving me 16.4 grams for the cuff, approximately 54 yards (I could explain all this math if you're really interested, but it involved cross-multiplying and ratios). I think that will be plenty.



I really love this yarn, which consistently surprises me. I see baseball, Americana, and sometimes the 1970s when I look at it. Occasionally it makes me think of clowns, and though I'm genuinely terrified of clowns, this yarn mitigates that and I just enjoy it. It ventures into that "so wrong it's right" territory for me, and for that, it's won my heart.

I also have unending love for this pattern and its adaptability. I carefully tried my sock on at the point of this last photo, and the fit is spot-on. It is exactly the right toe-to-heel distance and has a really enjoyable snugness. It probably helps that my foot has exact measurements of 9 inches circumference and 9.5 inches length. My worksheet yielded beautiful numbers (64 stitches, exactly 8 inches for the sole etc), which has only added to the pleasure.

I have skeins of two more sock yarns due to arrive soon, and I may use this pattern (or another toe-up) for both of those. I like not having to worry about yardage. I like it a lot.

Happy Socktober!

It is with great pride and happiness that I present my finished Jaywalkers:



I am so in love with these socks.





Pattern: Jaywalker by Grumperina, from the September 05 MagKnits.
Size: larger (9 inches around foot, 9-1/2 inches from top of leg to bottom of heel)
Yarn: Patons Kroy 75% wool 25% nylon, 4-ply sock yarn, color 54801 Krazy Stripes; I used two 50-gram balls and 7.4 grams of a third (about 30 yards), for an approximate total yardage of 436 yards.
Needles: Knit Picks 6" nickel-plated double-pointed needles, set of 5 size 1 (2.25 mm)
Modifications: I unintentionally added a few straight rounds in the right toe. I vastly prefer the one done according to the pattern.

Started: originally in October 2006, then put on hold many times
Finished: October 24, 2007



I have mentioned my deep and intense love for this pattern before, but really, these have been the perfect first socks.



The pattern was easy to memorize and had just enough variety to stay interesting while remaining a perfect "pick up and go" kind of project.



I learned all about sock construction, including turning a heel and Kitchener stitch, and I cannot wait to make more socks after such a wonderful experience.



This yarn was a pleasure to knit with, through and through. The finished product is so delightfully cozy.



Smokey instantly approved.



I must trust him. That cat is an expert in comfort.

So there you have it. My first socks, my first knitting with wool (and my feet can tolerate it!), and a wonderful project through and through. I can't recommend these highly enough!

Previous Entries on this Project:
- A Jaywalker walks into a bar... ouch
- The Jaywalkers Saga
- Sock Bliss
- Unconscious Knitting

Baby did a bad bad thing...

Yarn binges always start so simply.

I was about to cast on for my boyfriend's Henry scarf, when I realized that my Knit Picks Options tips only go down to size 4. I went online and bought the two circulars, paid about $3 shipping and patted myself on the back for maintaining self-control.

"But they have yarn on sale..." my foolish brain whined.

"Fine. We will look around and think about it, but we will not buy yarn just yet. We should study for our midterm and go to bed already," I scolded.

My brain knew it was winning. It gushed endorphins, coaxing "You have new books! You should try the projects in them!" At first I was just shooting for $45 for free shipping (they are evil geniuses with that), but then I felt like a woman possessed, dropping nearly $80 for an embarrassing amount of yarn.

"While you're spending money like a drunken sailor," my brain oozed, "you might as well buy those cones of tweed you were lusting after at WEBS too. And some sock yarn, to get the discount."

Helpless, I added items to my cart and typed in my credit card information for the third time in less than a half hour.

"Oh, there go groceries this week," I sighed to myself, considering how I can make tonight's pizza stretch with cereal and yogurt for the next few days.

I'm going to consider this woeful disregard of my yarn-buying moratorium as early birthday presents to myself (it's in like two weeks, it's fair), and I'm going to try not to feel so guilty about it.

I know that tomorrow I will wake up over-tired and under-prepared for my exam, and I will be kicking myself, but for now, I will be dreaming of the packages of gorgeous yarn now on their way.

A Jaywalker walks into a bar... ouch

(Two guys walk into a bar. You'd think the second would have learned after watching the first.)

If you haven't rolled your eyes enough already, then get psyched for continuing adventures in knitting absurdity, brought to you by my Jaywalkers.



I mentioned that I've been knitting these socks during subway rides, and it turns out I've spent much more time on the subways than I realized lately. The socks were really cruising along, and I was thinking any day now, I'd be ready to turn the heel.



Umm, that would have been about two inches ago. Whoops!

I briefly considered if one sock towering two inches over the other would bother me, and the obsessive-compulsive portions of my brain went into a small conniption at the thought of it.

So, I ripped back those two beautiful inches.



Trust me, sweet Jaywalker, this hurt me a lot more than it hurt you.

The good news is, to alleviate my wounded knitter's pride, I successfully and rapidly turned the heel and made great headway down the foot. If hell freezes over and I actually finish these for Socktober, I will have the comfort of warm and brightly-striped feet!

The Jaywalkers Saga

Way back in October 2006, before the days of this blog, I started a pair of Jaywalkers. It was my first sock, my first time knitting with DPNs, and all around a new experience.



So it's not surprising that I abandoned them until December. When I picked them back up, I'd forgotten what I was doing, messed it all up, didn't rip back properly, and made a disaster. It's almost a good thing I did this, as I was knitting them in the smaller size and they were way too tight. I started back over, and in several feverish sessions over Christmas break and into January, I got all the way down to the toes.



Then I ran out of yarn.

See, I have relatively long (and I think pretty lovely) toes. While they elicit many compliments and make my feet look quite nice in sandals, they're not exactly practical for sock knitting, as they give me a size 9 women's shoe. Last year and for years previous I was a size 8.5, but either my feet grew or I could no longer tolerate squished toes, so now 9 it is.



I tried using a different, thinner sock yarn for the toes (Knit Picks essentials in grass), but it was a duller, more olive green, and the change in gauge was abrupt and unsettling. When I royally butchered the three-needle bind-off, I took it as a sign, ripped it all back to the original yarn, then proceeded to create one of the worst tangles in my knitting career as I tried to wind a center-pull ball of the Knit Picks. The whole experience was so frustrating that I sloppily jammed the stitches back onto my DPNs then shoved the whole pile into my knitting basket, where it has remained.

As I mentioned previously, I had been going back and forth on what to do. If I tapped into my second ball of sock yarn, it wouldn't leave enough for the matching sock. I knew I couldn't deal with one sock being shorter than another, nor was I inclined to rip out the first heal I ever knit to reduce some length from the leg. So I concluded I would have to buy another ball of yarn. Then I was bummed that I would only be using a few yards from said ball, and I became tempted to rip back again to add length to both legs. But, again, the reluctance to rip out that really quite nice heel... and here we have it. I'll use the rest of the third skein for something else.



I ordered and received this third ball, with little consideration of dye lots because I was using such a small amount, at the very tip of the toe. It couldn't make a difference, right?



Hahaha. It might not be obvious in this photo, but the green in the new ball is so neon and different from the green in my originals that it makes my heart ache. Had my original skeins come in such a garish bright shade, I'm not sure I would have gone on with the project.



I tried the sock back on to see just how much electric lime I would be adding, and oh, it was more than I'd realized. Poor little (filthy) toes... all out in the cold and exposed.



With a sigh, I joined the second ball, reconsulted the pattern for the first time since January, and tried to figure out what I'd done. Arbitrarily, I added a few straight rounds to lengthen the toe decrease section slightly. I think I might have rushed into it the first time when I was staring down the end of my yarn, and I was getting anxious that I'd do all this work to finish, only to have my socks squish my toes.

I had to relearn a three-needle bind-off (some might rightly say I never knew it in the first place), but I think it came out okay.



And now I have my first finished, hand-knit sock. For all the heartache, frustration, and annoyance it caused me, it is really, really lovely.



I love its adorably clever little heel... I even love its neon toe.



This is an exceptional pattern, the fit is delightful, and I really have to give it up to Grumperina for such a fool-proof design that even a first-time sock knitter could pull it off. I can't recommend it highly enough.

I was so excited to finish this sock that I immediately cast on for its mate, which is well under way thanks to more than a few lengthy subway rides.