The sock gremlins are playing with me.
My favorite sock pattern is Nancy Lindberg's Knit to Fit Socks. I've internalized the pattern, all but the beginning of the heel turn. For some reason, even though I've turned dozens of heels, I just can't remember how to start. Knit 2 stitches past the center of the heel flap? 3 stitches? Do you do the ssk, K1 on that first row? I'm pretty sure the second row is P5, P2tog, P1, turn ...
I can noodle through the process and be convinced what I've figured out makes sense, and then I end up with a heel that's off center by 3 or 4 stitches. All of this would be solved if I could find the pattern, but the pattern is playing hide-and-seek with me.
I'd searched for the pattern -- or course it wasn't in my pattern file -- for weeks this fall, and then I gave up. A couple weeks later, it turned up, and I put it "somewhere safe" so I could find it when I needed it. I needed it today. I couldn't find it.
I went out with my sister today to knit at a coffeeshop, and of course I finished my heel flap and needed to turn the heel. I tried twice, and twice came out with a very wonky, off-center heel cup. Luckily, then it was time to go home. But the yarn in the heel looks pretty shredded, since I've tinked it twice with sharp size 0s.
It's weird that I can do a Kitchener in the dark with both hands tied behind my back while suspended upside down in a sealed vat of brine while being beset by shrimp and having to listen to Barry Manilow, but I can't turn a @#$%^&*(!!#@!! heel without the dad-gum pattern!
If anyone has the Nancy Lindberg pattern, please leave a comment with the first two rows of the heel turn. Meanwhile, I'm off to the brine tank.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Here we go again
It's been a busy year, and I just logged in and saw I haven't posted since January 5 of 2012.
I didn't do a terrific amount of knitting in 2012. I did, however go to a weekend writers' workshop that was very fruitful, and from there, joined a writers' group that has kept me writing, although not blogging. I've been writing a lot of poetry -- new for me -- and some short stories.
My beloved LYS, which was also my employer, closed for good in December. I found a seasonal job in retail for November and December, which has now ended. And I'm on to another employment adventure in January; more to come on that.
I did knit four pairs of felted clogs for Christmas gifts, ranging from size XS children's (for a two-year-old) to men's large (size 11). The kids' XL I knit was too small for the kid in question, so I'll be re-knitting those, but the rest fit and were enthusiastically received.
If you've read my earlier posts, you know that I don't do New Year's resolutions, because I immediately get stubborn and resentful and rebel against them. But I've decided to participate in Emily's Year of the Stash. See her blog at http://www.paleopurls.blospot.com, or visit her on Ravelry at Paleopurls.
Since I no longer work at my LYS, I don't expect I'll be buying a lot of yarn this year, especially since I bought enough over the past six years of employment to knit a large herd of sheep. (Now there's an interesting idea; shear sheep, process fleece, spin yarn, knit yarn into ... sheep). So it should be relatively easy to knit from stash.
There are a lot of fingering-weight shawlette patterns in my queue, and I have several 18-qt. Rubbermaid totes full of sock yarn, so I could probably have a Year of the Shawlette if I wanted to. Then I could achieve two goals in one: Year of the Stash, and Year of the Shawlette. I won't go so far as to say I'll knit a shawlette a month, Emily style, but I will at least allow that it's possible.
Happy New Year to all, and happy knitting.
I didn't do a terrific amount of knitting in 2012. I did, however go to a weekend writers' workshop that was very fruitful, and from there, joined a writers' group that has kept me writing, although not blogging. I've been writing a lot of poetry -- new for me -- and some short stories.
My beloved LYS, which was also my employer, closed for good in December. I found a seasonal job in retail for November and December, which has now ended. And I'm on to another employment adventure in January; more to come on that.
I did knit four pairs of felted clogs for Christmas gifts, ranging from size XS children's (for a two-year-old) to men's large (size 11). The kids' XL I knit was too small for the kid in question, so I'll be re-knitting those, but the rest fit and were enthusiastically received.
If you've read my earlier posts, you know that I don't do New Year's resolutions, because I immediately get stubborn and resentful and rebel against them. But I've decided to participate in Emily's Year of the Stash. See her blog at http://www.paleopurls.blospot.com, or visit her on Ravelry at Paleopurls.
Since I no longer work at my LYS, I don't expect I'll be buying a lot of yarn this year, especially since I bought enough over the past six years of employment to knit a large herd of sheep. (Now there's an interesting idea; shear sheep, process fleece, spin yarn, knit yarn into ... sheep). So it should be relatively easy to knit from stash.
There are a lot of fingering-weight shawlette patterns in my queue, and I have several 18-qt. Rubbermaid totes full of sock yarn, so I could probably have a Year of the Shawlette if I wanted to. Then I could achieve two goals in one: Year of the Stash, and Year of the Shawlette. I won't go so far as to say I'll knit a shawlette a month, Emily style, but I will at least allow that it's possible.
Happy New Year to all, and happy knitting.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Puppies are fun
You may recall my encounter with a visiting puppy last year; she seized a pristine hank of Schaefer Nancy and gave it a thrashing, Wren:1, Nancy: 0.
Wren is back. She's older now, but still in the if-it's-somewhere-my-pointy-nose-can-reach-I-am-required-to-poke-said-nose-in phase.
As a longtime dog owner, I'm pretty savvy about puppy-proofing. Calculate how tall the dog would be standing on its hind legs, multiply by 3 to allow for jumping, and put everything at a height two feet above that. Behind a locked door.
A lot of our stuff ends up on top of the fridge, which, although it's technically accessible, is the highest surface we have.
Last night, I wasn't feeling well and I went to bed at 9:00. I forgot to put my knitting bag on top of the fridge, and I forgot to close it.
Now, for a digression. For the past week or so, I've been working on The Little Neckwarmer that Couldn't. Or Wouldn't. It's a diabolically simple pattern: K2, P2 in the round over a multiple of 4 plus 1. Work until you're out of yarn or until you're sick of it. Bind off. Could it be easier? Apparently, yes.
Because of the extra stitch, the K2, P2 doesn't line up like a rib, but rather as a traveling stitch on the diagonal. It's harder to see when you've messed up, until suddenly a 4-round rib develops. Add to this the fact that a) I was working on two circular needles so one needle had an extra stitch on it, and b) I was sick, and c) I can be dumb as a bowl of marbles at times, and you have a stunning combination of brain fog and ineptitude. I had knit, frogged, reknit, tinked, reknit, taken numerous time outs, etc. during a span of time in which I should have been able to knit 3 or 4 neckwarmers, but I was finally on the right track again.
Imagine my dismay when I got up to find it in the middle of the living-room carpet this morning, covered in dog hair, half off the needles, with suspicious munched-up areas on either side.
I took the needles out and started pulling. I unraveled one piece that abruptly ended after about 18 inches. And another, and another. I collected a nice pile of yarn suitable for needle felting or flossing. When I reached untouched yarn, I'd frogged about an inch and a half. Bah!
I took a deep breath and started working again. I was steaming along, making good progress, when I saw I'd managed to stack up 3 knits. And 3 purls. And then The Little Neckwarmer that Couldn't went back into the time-out bag. I decide to work on a dishcloth instead, since that seems to be the only thing I can manage at the moment.
A garter-stitch dish cloth.
Wren is back. She's older now, but still in the if-it's-somewhere-my-pointy-nose-can-reach-I-am-required-to-poke-said-nose-in phase.
As a longtime dog owner, I'm pretty savvy about puppy-proofing. Calculate how tall the dog would be standing on its hind legs, multiply by 3 to allow for jumping, and put everything at a height two feet above that. Behind a locked door.
A lot of our stuff ends up on top of the fridge, which, although it's technically accessible, is the highest surface we have.
Last night, I wasn't feeling well and I went to bed at 9:00. I forgot to put my knitting bag on top of the fridge, and I forgot to close it.
Now, for a digression. For the past week or so, I've been working on The Little Neckwarmer that Couldn't. Or Wouldn't. It's a diabolically simple pattern: K2, P2 in the round over a multiple of 4 plus 1. Work until you're out of yarn or until you're sick of it. Bind off. Could it be easier? Apparently, yes.
Because of the extra stitch, the K2, P2 doesn't line up like a rib, but rather as a traveling stitch on the diagonal. It's harder to see when you've messed up, until suddenly a 4-round rib develops. Add to this the fact that a) I was working on two circular needles so one needle had an extra stitch on it, and b) I was sick, and c) I can be dumb as a bowl of marbles at times, and you have a stunning combination of brain fog and ineptitude. I had knit, frogged, reknit, tinked, reknit, taken numerous time outs, etc. during a span of time in which I should have been able to knit 3 or 4 neckwarmers, but I was finally on the right track again.
Imagine my dismay when I got up to find it in the middle of the living-room carpet this morning, covered in dog hair, half off the needles, with suspicious munched-up areas on either side.
I took the needles out and started pulling. I unraveled one piece that abruptly ended after about 18 inches. And another, and another. I collected a nice pile of yarn suitable for needle felting or flossing. When I reached untouched yarn, I'd frogged about an inch and a half. Bah!
I took a deep breath and started working again. I was steaming along, making good progress, when I saw I'd managed to stack up 3 knits. And 3 purls. And then The Little Neckwarmer that Couldn't went back into the time-out bag. I decide to work on a dishcloth instead, since that seems to be the only thing I can manage at the moment.
A garter-stitch dish cloth.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Fascinator of Awesomeness
This Christmas, feeling even more bogged down than usual, I knit for only one person. My young friend E., age 9, wanted Christmas clothes for four of her stuffed animals. She was looking forward to her holiday trip to England to visit relatives, and of course, the gang needed some things to dress up in.
And, to answer your next question: Yes, I will have pictures, as soon as she arrives home. In my usual manner, I finished the last outfit five minutes before I had to drive them to the airport, so I'll get photos later.
Really! You can come after me with a set of Lace Addi Clics and poke me about the head and face if I fail!
So, for now, words will have to suffice.
I made all the outfits out of Plymouth Holiday Lights. I knit a skirt and a fascinator (look it up) for Kitty the pillow pet. The red skirt had a picot-edged hem at the top, through which I threaded a crochet chain for a drawstring, as Kitty doesn't have much of a waist. The bottom was slightly flared, and was finished with an interminable-to-knit white ruffle.
Kitty's red fascinator was constructed like a tam, very flat, again with a picot edged-hem. I decorated the top with two jingle bells and two fancy spotted chicken feathers. It's tied on at a jaunty angle (E. didn't want to stick a hatpin in Kitty's poor head) with a green satin ribbon. Very fancy!
Pumpkin, E.'s loved-up favorite stuffed cat, got a green Christmas cardigan vest with white trim and a single button at the top, and a tall pointy red Santa hat with white trim and ear-holes to help keep it on.
Bunny, who is built like a small person, not like a real bunny, got a dressy gown with a red bell-shaped ruffled skirt and a knitted-on green sleeveless bodice. Red satin ribbons are threaded into the eyelets at one side and tied into bows. Bunny would have looked nice in a fascinator too, but there was an ear-to-available-head-area ratio that would have required a 1/8" fascinator. I didn't want to insult her dignity that way.
Finally, Snowflake, a white horse, got a capelike affair that was essentially a rectangle with a hole to allow his head to go through. It should protect him from the worst of the weather. It's not decorated, since this is the piece I finished with only 5 minutes to spare. (I'm not a procastinator, I specialize in Just in Time delivery!)
Whew. Holiday knitting done for another year.
Now to turn my attention to the bottomless UFO tub which should carry me through 2020 and beyond.
Oh, and keep away from me with those Addi Clics!
And, to answer your next question: Yes, I will have pictures, as soon as she arrives home. In my usual manner, I finished the last outfit five minutes before I had to drive them to the airport, so I'll get photos later.
Really! You can come after me with a set of Lace Addi Clics and poke me about the head and face if I fail!
So, for now, words will have to suffice.
I made all the outfits out of Plymouth Holiday Lights. I knit a skirt and a fascinator (look it up) for Kitty the pillow pet. The red skirt had a picot-edged hem at the top, through which I threaded a crochet chain for a drawstring, as Kitty doesn't have much of a waist. The bottom was slightly flared, and was finished with an interminable-to-knit white ruffle.
Kitty's red fascinator was constructed like a tam, very flat, again with a picot edged-hem. I decorated the top with two jingle bells and two fancy spotted chicken feathers. It's tied on at a jaunty angle (E. didn't want to stick a hatpin in Kitty's poor head) with a green satin ribbon. Very fancy!
Pumpkin, E.'s loved-up favorite stuffed cat, got a green Christmas cardigan vest with white trim and a single button at the top, and a tall pointy red Santa hat with white trim and ear-holes to help keep it on.
Bunny, who is built like a small person, not like a real bunny, got a dressy gown with a red bell-shaped ruffled skirt and a knitted-on green sleeveless bodice. Red satin ribbons are threaded into the eyelets at one side and tied into bows. Bunny would have looked nice in a fascinator too, but there was an ear-to-available-head-area ratio that would have required a 1/8" fascinator. I didn't want to insult her dignity that way.
Finally, Snowflake, a white horse, got a capelike affair that was essentially a rectangle with a hole to allow his head to go through. It should protect him from the worst of the weather. It's not decorated, since this is the piece I finished with only 5 minutes to spare. (I'm not a procastinator, I specialize in Just in Time delivery!)
Whew. Holiday knitting done for another year.
Now to turn my attention to the bottomless UFO tub which should carry me through 2020 and beyond.
Oh, and keep away from me with those Addi Clics!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)