Crazy in the Same Way

It's the end of a long day and I'm riding the up escalator in the subway station. I spot someone else riding the down escalator. She's busy fiddling with something. I look a bit closer and realise that this woman is crocheting. Crocheting on the escalator! I can't stop looking. I have a hard enough time knitting when I'm sitting down, let alone standing. On stairs. That are MOVING.

I'm in awe.

I flat out stare at her, momentarily forgetting that it's actually kind of rude. In typical, suspicious Big City fashion, she glares at me. I feel suddenly ashamed and start to look away, but instead I glance at her project.

It's a great project, some kind of lace pattern, really pretty. A smile spreads across my face. And that's when she GETS IT. Our eyes lock and she grins back at me. I was suddenly reminded of how motorcyclists often wave as they pass, even if they don't know one another.

Before that smile? She thought I was a random crazy person. After the smile? Random crazy yarn enthusiast!

'Hey! Look at that! We're crazy in the SAME WAY!'

Welcome to the Sisterhood of Hooks and Needles.

Me vs. The Sock

Sock Knitting: First Round (The "Random Gush-fest Phase”)

“OMG, these tiny No.1 doublepointed needles are so cute! And the little tiny yarn is so adorable! Sock knitting is just CUTE!”

Gazing in wonder upon my No.1 dp's, I feel a bit as if I'd snuck into a village of Lilliputians and stole their knitting.

In Round 1, much time is spent admiring the demure little needles and looking at the wool and being impressed with 'tiny' and doing absolutely NOTHING about it.

Sock Knitting: Second Round (The "My-Stash-is-in-My-Toolbox Phase”)

“There are so many ways to start! I want to try everything!! Eastern cast-on? That sounds neat! This is exciting!”

Um, until I try it. Suddenly, I have six hands and there's wool loops everywhere and these little tiny stitches do. not. want. to. co-operate.

Hm...Let's try this again:

“Provisional cast on? Sign me up! Oops. Except I don't have any spare fingerling weight wool to use as my provisional piece.”

STASH FAIL! (Apparently, there *is* some advantage to having a large stash of wool at your disposal)

I root through the tool box and find some white twine. (“Hm, this might work if I unwound a strand.”) Except, it doesn't work. Knitting with twine is like...wait for it...knitting with twine.

I guess this is why people don't buy their wool at Canadian Tire. I finally use some crappy old acrylic I dug out of a corner of the closet.

In Round 2, I'm wondering if maybe, while I was robbing those Lilliputians of their knitting, I should have grabbed a Lilliputian or two to take with me - so they could teach me how to use these damned tiny needles.

Sock Knitting - Third Round(The ”Hand Me the Toilet Paper Phase”)

“The hell with it.”

I toss the tiny Lilliputian needles aside and joyfully pick up my GIANT No.8 double pointed needles. Oh, for the joy of wool that I can actually SEE!

After my foray into Lilliputian land, knitting with worsted weight on No.8 needles feels like knitting with toilet paper. Or playing with Fisher Price toys. But I start to get the hang of it.

I practice the provisional cast-on. I practice doing an increase (Every time I see the instruction “Make 1” in a pattern, I want to retort: “Oh yeah? Who's gonna make me?!”)

In Round 3, I feel like I'm rehearsing for a very, very tiny performance.

Sock Knitting - Fourth Round (The "Maybe I don't need the Lilliputians after all Phase”)

“Okay, maybe I'll just cast-on. That's all. Nothing more than that. Just some practice.”

(Oooooo! Fuzzy!)

“Hm, not bad. Maybe I should knit a row or two.”


Round 4 finds me finally knitting a sock. To be continued...

Blue Toque!

Here's my lovely model sporting the perwinkle blue toque, which I completed tonight.

It went pretty smoothly, though I dropped a stitch near the very end. I was able to kind of cover up my error as I pulled the whole thing together with the tapestry needle. Hooray for improvisation!

This toque was supposed to be a birthday gift for my girlfriend, but it's a bit too big. That's okay, though. It fits *me* perfectly and I have enough yarn left (in my STASH, of course) to knit up another, slightly smaller version for her.

In other news, the book I requested from the library finally arrived: Laura Chau's Sock Knitting: Teach Yourself Visually.

I'll be honest: So far, my head is swimming. I don't know how I'm going manage this sock thing. It's freaking me out.