A Very Old Pair of Socks

Hal brought me these socks the other day (I should have taken a picture). One of the heels had a big hole in it. I knit these wooly winter socks for him a very long time ago. Look at them! Why did I do a k2 p2 ribbing on one and a k1p1 ribbing on the other? I have no clue. Also, I have already repaired them once. Where you see the darker blue, including the top of the cuff are all repairs. So I told him that it may be time to part with them. And then he said: " I don't know, Jen. I think these may be the first things you ever knit for me." He HAD to say it! He has always appreciated my knitting. He has also benefited from it and it was sweet that he didn't want to part with these socks. We are talking about socks that are maybe 28 years old. Lately, I am trying to be less sentimental about all our stuff. It's time to part with things, to downsize. But I just couldn't toss them into the trash. So after conferring with Wendy, I came up with a plan to repair them once again.
It was only the heel flap that needed replacing. I just snipped it away and picked up the stitches around where it was. then I knit across the flap and k2tog when ever I got to the gusset edge (Wendy thought part up) and then I just Kitchnered the turned heel to the flap. It worked! The other heel flap is still hanging on, so I left it alone. But I told Hal that he has to baby these socks from now on. No boots or shoes. Slippers and bed only. After all, they are very, very old!

Hats? Done

I start with the very pretty one:This is the Koolhaas hat by Jared Flood. Yarn: Rittenhouse Manos. A hat made for Simma for her birthday. It's so cute in her! This hat is very fun to knit. It goes by fairly quickly and I had to learn to make cables without a cable needle, something I have always wanted to know. I like the yarn ok. It is very soft and the color is great, but it is kind of limp. I like some springyness in my yarn. But I may use it again because when I made this hat I noticed I had a fair amount left. I weighed the finished hat (49g) and then the ball (50g). Seems like a very efficient way to use up this yarn.

The next hat is the current knit-along: Opus Spicatum. Oh, the joys and pleasures of blocking, especially when it is stranded knitting. The pattern really starts to define itself. I have it on a ten inch plate. I have high hopes that it will fit. It could be a little big. We shall see when it is dry.

Pre-blocking

Socks? done.

Thank goodness. I am still not convinced that knitting socks is all that fun. But wearing them? Yeah, I can go for that. That might be the payoff I need. Especially since I ordered Wendy's International sock book in English. Now I have no excuse.

What's wrong with this picture? Or, paging M.C. Escher

I was so wound up (so to speak) in the gauge of my stranded hat that I neglected an even more fundamental principle of knitting. Namely, to pull back occasionally and look at what you're doing. I mean, like the whole thing. Take the time to examine what you're working on from a broader view. And if possible, show it to someone else. (It's like proofreading -- the more you look at something the less likely you'll notice glaring errors while someone else will see them right away.)

It's all too easy to get so wrapped up in your stitches (oof, another bad pun), that you fail to see what's going on with your project as a whole.

So, what's wrong with this picture? Enhanced for your viewing pleasure:

About a third of the way down, you can see where the pattern is interrupted and then starts again -- look for the checked zig-zags. I didn't notice it until I was showing it to Jennifer. Just as she was saying, "Oh you must have this pattern memorized by now," I noticed what I'd done. And I know exactly how I did it. Here's the chart:


There are two rows that alternate one brown, one gray and begin with a brown stitch. Instead of working the following row on row 2 of the chart (2 browns, 1 gray, etc.), I took up at row 9 (one gray, 1 brown, 2 grays, etc.).

It's amazing how far you have to knit sometimes before seeing a mistake, especially doing colorwork. I could've left it alone, as I'm sure it wouldn't have been noticeable to anybody else but me. But I would always see it. So, as with most major mistakes, rather than ignore the situation, I stop where I am, yank the needles, and go back. In this case, I was able to fairly easily find the last correct row of colorwork and weave smaller needles through those stitches, making it less challenging than it could've been to rip back.

Before:


After:

Now the work is back on the circulars again. I started knitting along happily, all proud of myself. And you know what? I found myself starting from row 9 again.

Dammit!

To Block or Not to Block

Blocking is one of those things, like swatching, that many knitters are reluctant to do. (You know who you are [*cough*].) Underrated, blocking has many benefits: It locks the fibers in place to create a uniform fabric from what were individual stitches of knitting. It helps get rid of any remaining lanolin from the processing of natural fibers (making a much lighter fabric, weight-wise, as well). It helps fix the color of hand-dyed yarns and wash away the excess color. In the case of mohair and angora blends, it helps those fibers "bloom," enhancing the fuzz and fluff, and it often softens up wool. Finally, blocking will give you your true gauge, often transforming tight and bunchy pieces into something more relaxed and civilized.

In case you were wondering, the self-righteous among us who swatch? We block those swatches, too.

I recently started the stranded Winter Sunrise Hat to match the fingerless gloves I'd made a couple of months ago. Since the fingerless gloves were knit in the round, like the hat, I had a pretty good idea what my gauge would be. Because I didn't have the same size needles, I figured I could go up half a size, using #2 circulars to make the hat. Having knit about 5 1/2 inches, I finally took it off the needles to measure circumference because it seemed really small to me. Indeed, it's supposed to be 19"-20".


Here's a close-up of my ruler and hat edge. You can see that I've got, basically, a hat that's 16" in circumference -- much too small for my head.

Before unraveling the entire thing and reknitting on larger needles, I figured I might as well try blocking what I'd already completed to see if that would relax the yarn a bit. (For those of you new to stranded knitting, be forewarned that stranding is notorious for tightening up your knitting, regardless of how loose a knitter you are. And I don't mean morally. . .That really has nothing to do with it.)

So here, after a gentle blocking:


The close-up below shows that the hat grew by about 1 1/4" just from a gentle blocking.

Not bad, and enough so that it fits fine on my head. It's still on the snug-but-not-brain-crushingly-tight side, but when the entire thing is finished, I'll block it a bit more deliberately. And what do I mean by that? Well, instead of flattening it out on a towel after immersing it in water and wool wash, I'll try to find a bowl or pot that's the circumference I need and stretch it, gently, around that.

So, the rule is to block and not to not block. There are a few times when maybe you don't want to block, like when you want a garment to be crisp and tight and a bit stiff. I didn't have time to block the Noro scarf I made for David (see previous post) before he wore it on a trip to Boston. He actually likes the orderly way the scarf wraps around his neck, as it doesn't misbehave by flopping all over the place; it stays where it's told. Eventually I'll have to wash it, but for now, he's wearing it unblocked. One of the very few exceptions to the rule.

Just Say NO-ro

After Christmas I took a bit of a break and knit a nice, post-holiday trifle, the classic Jared Flood Noro striped scarf. It's a great pattern and the results are really nice, which you can't really see here, since I took these photos after the sun went down.

People have done their edgings various ways. My choice was on every row, before the last stitch, to bring the yarn forward and slip the last stitch purl-wise. Having a nice edge is one of the basic yet important things that really makes this scarf.

The other thing that makes this scarf is how you cast on and off. I decided to use a tubular version of each, which I had never done before. Using a needle about 3 sizes smaller than the body of the scarf, I cast on 25 stitches using the long tail cast-on but alternating the stitches. That is, casting on a knit stitch (the typical way) and then reversing the motion (i.e., hooking the back loop first and then coming forward) to get a purl stitch. Then c.o. a knit, then a purl, etc. It takes a while to wrap your brain around it, but once you do, it's a revelation. On the next row, I knit every knit stitch, then brought the yarn forward, slipped the purl stitch, moved the yarn to the back and knit the next knit stitch, etc. On the next row, you do the same thing -- the stitches you had slipped you now knit, etc. Do two more rows like so, then move to the bigger needles and begin the basic k1, p1, ribbing. Casting off is pretty much the same, going down many needle sizes and reversing the four rows. Then, you take two needles and move the k stitches to the front needle, the purl stitches to the back, and voila, you have two sets of stitches over two needles to Kitchener together. Techknitter describes it here. It's utterly ingenious. Going down a few needle sizes firms up the edge but also leaves it sproingy and flexible.

The finished scarf is below, and looks pretty nice, if I do say so myself. David loves it and he's the one who's going to wear it. But -- and here's where the rant starts -- I'm beginning to tire of Noro and it's "foibles" (aka, it's undeniable crappiness). Sure, we love the color shifts, the interesting wool blends, and the fact that making projects with it gives us instant gratification. BUT, Kureyon is now something like 9 bucks a skein retail, which is pretty steep. I met with many, many knots in each skein and had to do quite a bit of splicing. Furthermore [stepping onto soapbox now], the colors were weirdly distributed and I had to do some serious editing. A cherry red-to-navy blue transition occurred in one skein but not the other two, and there were some pretty terrible areas of orange-gray that truly looked pukey.

I didn't take a photo of the yarn I have left, but there's a big wad of it I couldn't or didn't want to use.

So, Noro's nice and all, but I think I'm saying NO-ro for a while.