Sock #1 is going well! I'm still knitting the leg, but I'm pretty sure I'll finish that by tonight. That's less than a week for a sock. Not bad for a newbie! I figured out where those periodic twisted stitches are coming from. When a stitch falls off the needle, I need to be more careful about how I put it back on. All of those twisties were from temporarily dropped stitches.
I tried the sock on last night and it fits perfectly! I was worried about that because it seemed so big. I'm already looking toward my first sock in fingering weight and thinking about what yarn I'll use.
I'm also rethinking my next hat. I can knit those garterstitch hats in my sleep. I bought the pattern for Kate's entrelac hat and it's definitely do-able. I have all the skills. Sort of. It will be a more complex project than simple knitting. Okay, fine - I'm scared!
I was already calculating the cost of circulars for that project when I remembered my Denise needle set. I suppose I should go ahead and use it. This is exactly why my mother bought it for me, but to be honest. I'm feeling leary of those plastic needles. Maybe I'll love them...I owe it to her to try.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
I have a sock!
I have a sock! Yesterday, with a few bloopers here and there, I managed to get through the heel. By evening, I was back to knitting even rounds and there are plenty to be knit - 6 inches from that point, confirmed by an email to Kate (I wrote to ask from what point the 'leg' is measured from).
The email was fun! I had took a photo of my sock and created an illustrated diagram of my request, with arrows pointing to possible starting points for the leg measurement. I gave the sock a smiley face and, as an afterthought, added a talk balloon. Kate thought it was hilarious, replied "Happy sock is happy!" lol!
There were a few problems with the heel, but I muddled through. The biggest problem was losing one of my heel gusset stitches. If I dropped it, I can't figure out where (I checked the sofa cushions). I ended up picking up a bar and twisting it to make a stitch. Inelegant, to be sure, but it apparently worked. Actually, it wasn't the obvious mistakes that showed up, but the ones I didn't even know about.
Anway, it's a sock. It looks like a sock, feels like a sock when I put it on. And everything is easy from here on out. In fact, I'm pretty sure the second sock will be easy-er, since I've finished one already.
Last week, I picked up some longer stainless steel Hiya Hiya needles which are a joy to knit with, much easier than bamboo! I'm a convert! The big problem with this sock and the bamboo needles is that they're too short and I kept losing stitches off the ends. Lesson learned: long DPNs are better.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The email was fun! I had took a photo of my sock and created an illustrated diagram of my request, with arrows pointing to possible starting points for the leg measurement. I gave the sock a smiley face and, as an afterthought, added a talk balloon. Kate thought it was hilarious, replied "Happy sock is happy!" lol!
There were a few problems with the heel, but I muddled through. The biggest problem was losing one of my heel gusset stitches. If I dropped it, I can't figure out where (I checked the sofa cushions). I ended up picking up a bar and twisting it to make a stitch. Inelegant, to be sure, but it apparently worked. Actually, it wasn't the obvious mistakes that showed up, but the ones I didn't even know about.
Anway, it's a sock. It looks like a sock, feels like a sock when I put it on. And everything is easy from here on out. In fact, I'm pretty sure the second sock will be easy-er, since I've finished one already.
Last week, I picked up some longer stainless steel Hiya Hiya needles which are a joy to knit with, much easier than bamboo! I'm a convert! The big problem with this sock and the bamboo needles is that they're too short and I kept losing stitches off the ends. Lesson learned: long DPNs are better.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Yarn Along: Socks and Journeys
I started a sock and a book almost simultaneously, so I've been enjoying the week, alternating between the two.
My first 'real' sock is going well. I just finished the heel gusset today and I'm moving into the perilous waters of wrap-and-turn this afternoon. With any luck, I'll be back into the comfort of even rounds by tomorrow. *holdsbreath* This is sock #1. When it's finished, I'll move on to sock #2.
The book is 'Sweet Jesus' by Canadian author Christine Poutney. The story follows three siblings who journey across the continent and into their own past. Connie is a mother of three children, Hannah is a writer and Zeus (my favourite!) works as a therapeutic clown in a children's hospital.
So far, I'm loving the characters and I've been drawn into the story.
I'm posting as part of Ginny's Yarn Along.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
My first 'real' sock is going well. I just finished the heel gusset today and I'm moving into the perilous waters of wrap-and-turn this afternoon. With any luck, I'll be back into the comfort of even rounds by tomorrow. *holdsbreath* This is sock #1. When it's finished, I'll move on to sock #2.
The book is 'Sweet Jesus' by Canadian author Christine Poutney. The story follows three siblings who journey across the continent and into their own past. Connie is a mother of three children, Hannah is a writer and Zeus (my favourite!) works as a therapeutic clown in a children's hospital.
So far, I'm loving the characters and I've been drawn into the story.
I'm posting as part of Ginny's Yarn Along.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Three years later...
You know that item on your to-do list that keeps getting buried, deeper and deeper? And even though you've tried to cover it in an avalanche of other 'to-dos', it still weighs on your brain like a mountain?
Yeah. For me, it was that sock. I just couldn't figure out how to knit the heel and I couldn't seem to motivate myself into the knitting shop to ask for help. So I buried the sock and I just stopped knitting. Every fall, I got 'knitting guilt' because cool weather always triggers my knitting itch, but I didn't do anything about it.
To be fair, life was busy. I was absorbed in getting out of my weirdly serene dysfunctional relationship. It ended quietly with the Easiest Breakup Ever: About once a month, E would suggest we break up so I just waited for it. When the suggestion came, my response was "That's a great idea. Let's do *that*." And we did. I was so relieved.
After that came a few intense, highly focused yoga years. I'm a career yoga teacher and I really needed this time to develop my practice. I experimented with different teachers, different studios, even travelling to Montreal for a time to study with a master teacher.
I learned a lot, and one of the greatest lessons that came out of those long months of practice was an important one of 'balance'. In my singleminded focus on yoga practice, I had lost the other parts of my life: writing, reading, playing my guitar and yes, knitting.
This summer, I started to reclaim those things, one by one. It started, ironically, with an Epic Clear-out of my apartment, some redecorating and in the process, the rediscovery of the lonely, orphan sock. So, last month I looked for classes and when I found a sock-knitting class that didn't clash with my busy teaching schedule, I signed up.
Last Saturday, I happily settled into an easy chair and learned to knit a tiny 'training sock'. In the process, Kate cleaned up my knitting technique. My mother taught me to knit continental style but in picking it back up again, it had morphed into something Kate identified as 'combination knitting'. I likely learned *that* from a sweet elderly Ukrainian friend who ran a B&B in Kensington Market until her death a few years ago.
Now that I've sorted it out, I have two new projects on the go: Another hat, just for practice and to use up my very small stash. And a worsted weight sock. This time, I'll finish it!
And this is my tiny training sock, which I now keep beside my chair to remind myself that I can indeed knit socks!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Yeah. For me, it was that sock. I just couldn't figure out how to knit the heel and I couldn't seem to motivate myself into the knitting shop to ask for help. So I buried the sock and I just stopped knitting. Every fall, I got 'knitting guilt' because cool weather always triggers my knitting itch, but I didn't do anything about it.
To be fair, life was busy. I was absorbed in getting out of my weirdly serene dysfunctional relationship. It ended quietly with the Easiest Breakup Ever: About once a month, E would suggest we break up so I just waited for it. When the suggestion came, my response was "That's a great idea. Let's do *that*." And we did. I was so relieved.
After that came a few intense, highly focused yoga years. I'm a career yoga teacher and I really needed this time to develop my practice. I experimented with different teachers, different studios, even travelling to Montreal for a time to study with a master teacher.
I learned a lot, and one of the greatest lessons that came out of those long months of practice was an important one of 'balance'. In my singleminded focus on yoga practice, I had lost the other parts of my life: writing, reading, playing my guitar and yes, knitting.
This summer, I started to reclaim those things, one by one. It started, ironically, with an Epic Clear-out of my apartment, some redecorating and in the process, the rediscovery of the lonely, orphan sock. So, last month I looked for classes and when I found a sock-knitting class that didn't clash with my busy teaching schedule, I signed up.
Last Saturday, I happily settled into an easy chair and learned to knit a tiny 'training sock'. In the process, Kate cleaned up my knitting technique. My mother taught me to knit continental style but in picking it back up again, it had morphed into something Kate identified as 'combination knitting'. I likely learned *that* from a sweet elderly Ukrainian friend who ran a B&B in Kensington Market until her death a few years ago.
Now that I've sorted it out, I have two new projects on the go: Another hat, just for practice and to use up my very small stash. And a worsted weight sock. This time, I'll finish it!
And this is my tiny training sock, which I now keep beside my chair to remind myself that I can indeed knit socks!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
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...
“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...
Friday, October 2, 2009
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.
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