Socks of many techniques 3: the 'body'

The heel in these socks is going to be an afterthought heel. There are three reasons for this:
(i) I need a contrast heel because I don't have enough handspun for full socks;
(ii) I don't want to interrupt the stripes/ variegation in the handspun; and
(iii) I get bored with knitting the leg.

When I knit toe up socks, I am always so anxious to finish after I turn the heel. I get bored of knitting the legs. So I thought rather than break the flow by turning the heel, I'd just knit a long tube - I'd be finished before I got bored! After I finished the first tube, I put it on some spare needles, and started on the second. Note that I didn't knit the cuff at that point - it made sense to leave the live stitches to check that the tubes were the same length before I did the cuffs.

Another nice thing about an afterthought heel is that the sock is flat. It makes it easier to check that both socks are the same length when you don't have some crazy heel sticking out the side. Once I knew they were the same length (well, half a round out and I wasn't going to fuss) I knit the cuffs on one sock then the other. Then just the heel to go!

Rainbow socks

I love these socks. Like, love. I did a three needle bind off on the toe because it was quicker than grafting, and it's left this annoying little seam for my toes to rub against. I wish they were longer in the leg (I misread the pattern, so the short-row diamonds on my socks are not as deep as they should be, with the result that I needed to do eight 'sections' on each foot). But still I love them. They make me happy to look at, and Patonyle does feel nice underfoot. The colours are much brighter, really, but our dim house in winter is not so encouraging with the light situation, and I didn't want to ask BCB for a light-box because he was defrosting the fridge (this requires a hairdryer, a pot of boiling water, a bucket and our largest knife. I didn't want to get too close).

Rainbow Socks, a SeaRag Scarf and Learning to Knit

I finally finished the Charade socks I was working on. I was so unenthused about them that I considered ripping them with only half a sock to go. Mah mama volunteered to take them though, which gave me enough impetus to churn on. I'm not sure why I was so over them... I think the colours are lovely, but a bit blah to actually knit. It seems most of what I knit is fairly bright, this colourway was a bit neutral. Also the herringbone rib is not so stretchy, which made getting them on and off a bit tricky...


And now I'm off on Rainbow Socks. I'm enjoying them very much. The colours are more entertaining, and the yarn is very soft (it's Patonyle). They're fifty kinds of fun. I went away this weekend with some people from work, and I got quite a lot done. One of the guys there asked me to teach him to knit. Luckily, I decided to travel with multiple projects (god I'm a loser). A while ago I swapped with someone in my stitch'n'bitch for some fabulous Colinette WigWam.

The colours reminded me a bit of the ocean, so I thought I'd like to do some kind of deconstructed scarf, something that looked like rags washed up on a beach. I started off with some loose garter stitch, which wasn't really working. I showed it to another friend, saying I was going for something that looked like rags washed up on a beach. After a thoughtful pause while he weighed up how I might take it, he said carefully "Um... it looks like knitting to me." So I ripped it.


While browsing Ravelry I found a nice wavy dropstitch pattern, and have been running with that instead. It's the beginning of the knitting there. I'm very pleased with it. The pattern stops because I started teaching the guy I work with to knit garter stitch. I think he did very well, don't you? It's very even - he was worried it wasn't even enough, and stumbled on the idea of blocking by himself! Suggested that maybe when you finished a project there'd be a way of stretching it out to make it all even. I was very impressed.

I plan to give him some old needles and a spare ball of yarn tomorrow. I've cast on already so he can just go (I think we'd struggle to find the time for me to teach him to cast on, and he seemed quite eager to just keep going). I'm a bit worried that 4mm and dk yarn will grow so slowly compared to the wigwam on 8mm needles above that he'll lose a little interest. But I don't have any chunkier yarn and needles to give.

Now the real question is, since I was going with a bit of a casual, deconstructed thing, should I rip out the beginner garter stitch and keep going with my pattern, or should I keep it there in my scarf as a nice reminder of someone's first go at knitting, and my first go at teaching someone?

Uh-oh.

I was knitting a sock today at the train station, and I dropped the working needle. Against all odds, it slipped through these tiny little grate holes in the platform. I think my fellow commuters already find the powersuit-and-knitting combo a little strange, and I think then finding me shriek "Oh f**k! I just dropped a needle down that grate!" at 8am confirmed all dire suspicions. Badly Coloured Boy tried valiantly to remove the offending grate, but it was welded in place. Totally depressing. This is the second set of dpns I've gone through lately. BCB sat on the others and snapped one (different size, so no, I don't still have five usable needles).

I think it's a sign I should invest in some Harmony circular sock needles and learn magic loop, huh? I don't see no circs falling through a grate.

Christmas, socks, pretty lettuce.

Christmas present. Ashford swift and Royal winder, from Bilby yarns. Given to me because I told Badly Coloured Boy I wasn't knitting his jumper until he bought me a swift and winder, or wound the skeins himself. He's seen me swearing over skein-winding. I hate it. Least favourite knitting-related chore ever. But now it's fun! It's all, like, neeeeeeow! Whoosh! Look at the awesome yarn-cake! I wanted to take an action shot, but, um, I was enjoying winding the skeins too much to pause.
I'm also a weeny bit partial to the swift, because Ashford made the rocking-horse I had when I was a kid. There ya go. Incidentally, I haven't named the swift yet. Any ideas? Or an opinion that naming a swift may in fact be the stupidest thing you ever heard of? The rocking-horse was called Ashley, for what it's worth.


Start of a Charade sock, with Verb for Keeping Warm's logwood dyed sock yarn. More subdued than I normally go for, but pretty, I think. I finished the Red Vinnlands I was chugging away on. Have to admit, I don't especially love them. They'll be the subject of another blog post.


And just because I can, here's what a sink full of radicchio leaves looks like. Must try growing my own radicchio sometime.

Vinnland Socks

Working on these in the merino I dyed with Kool-Aid. I'm such a dolt. They were going to be snowflake socks, and then I was all "Ooo... that pattern has a lot of lines... bet I won't remember them all... might choose a different pattern." Sadly, my brain only remembered the "Choose different" part, and I picked a new pattern (Vinnland) that has three more lines to the pattern, and involves purl stitches (which slow me down like purly little speed-bumps in the smooth knittin' highway). It's a pretty pattern, but I'll be finishing them at the ankle beacuse:
(a) I mostly only wear ankle socks anyway;
(b) Pattern too slow.

A Verb for Keeping Warm

I recently ordered some sock yarn from A Verb for Keeping Warm, and have been dying for it to arrive. Aren't the colourways just stunning? Look at the beautiful grey-blue-mauve and oyster-pink-brown. And mustard and deep rich pink! Yum! The thing about A Verb for Keeping Warm is that Kristine dyes (most) of her yarns with natural plant dyes. That's right. No acid dyes, no jacquard dyes, no Kool-Aid. Isn't that magic? The Indian Summer colourway (pink and mustard) is dyed with madder and cochineal. The Neptune colourway (blue/ grey/ oyster) is logwood using two different mordants, if I recall correctly. Up in her etsy shop right now is a hot pink, mid grey and dark grey yarn that is so punky and bold you would never guess its hippy origins unless you were told.

I love that these colourways, so beautiful and surprisingly vibrant, can be just pulled from nature. And I read somewhere, probably a bit of hyperbole, that 'nothing in nature's palette clashes'. But I think it's true. Mustard and hot pink should not look this good together. Some would argue that natural dyes are better for the environment. Personally, I think the harm caused by the dyes of a small scale dyers is arguable, and some natural dye mordants are pretty toxic. On the subject, Kristine refuses to use chrome mordants (the nastiest kind). But you could tell yourself you're saving the world by buying her yarn if you want. While there's a lot of really lovely handspun in the shop, the sock yarns are commercial yarn. I chose superwash merino, because I like to machine wash sockies. There's also some blue-faced leceister in that lolly-pink and lemon you can see in the corner. It was added into my package as a 'little' sample.

Now to customer service: Shazam! The best I've had on etsy! Kristine worked out international shipping for me, and changed her listings accordingly. She was unsure about listing all of her items as able to be shipped internationally (though I worked on talking her into it), so outside the USA you might want to convo her. She was super-prompt with replying and gave me no indication that it was an unwelcome hassle to relist for international shipping. Plus, upon asking, she divided the skeins for me and wound them into centre-pull balls! This is going above and beyond the call of duty, I think! I asked because a single skein does a pair of socks, but I have no scales to divide the yarn evenly. The skeins are 126g (4 1/2 oz), and a very good price for handdyed yarn.

Postage to Australia was $11 for up to four skeins, and it took a mere 11 days to arrive.

I heavily, heavily encourage you all to buy some of her yarn. While a million people are handdying all kinds of sock yarns, A Verb for Keeping Warm really stand out as something a bit different, using natural dyes. The quality of dyeing and the colours are equal with any regular-dyers' works. She is the only person I've found that does variegated sock yarn in natural colours. Plus she has some awesome-crazy rainbow (and solid, if you lean that way) handspuns that beg to be turned into a scarf.

Where to buy? Currently split between her own website, A Verb for Keeping Warm, and her Etsy shop. And while you're at it, check out her blog for to see her awesome Indian Summer Pomatomuses (I'm going to be a copycat and make some the same I think).

(oh, and the fabric in the background is my new Lara Cameron fabric, in linen blend. It was going to be a Martha Stewart bag for a gift, but I love it too much to give it away).

A sock! I gots a sock!

I finished my first Anastasia sock today. It fits and all! I'm quite pleased. Unlike my first ever sock, of which no photographic evidence exists. It made my foot look like an overstuffed chorizo sausage. It was really unpretty. Y'know, unlike these carefully styled, magazine-quality shots. Oh hell, it'd probably be good enough for American Apparel, so shut up.


There'll be a weeny hiatus on my knitting the second sock though, because I haven't got a replacement needle yet. I finished the top of the leg with only four, but I don't want to start a sock that way.

Crossways in Subiaco didn't have any 2.25mm or 2.5mm dpns, and the last pair of 2.5mms at Calico & Ivy were the ones that I bought and that went ker-snap (and they don't have 2.25mm there either). So I've internet ordered. From TapestryCraft. Both sizes. It's really hard to find places that stock .25mm increments! Not a single ebay store selling those desirably cheap needles from China did, though some stores had 2.25mm and some had 2.5mm (here's another pic for luck).


I've enjoyed this sock caper. Having seen the way mah mama fondled my new Claudia's Handpainted and heard the way she wistfully said '[My friend's] socks are all handknitted... do these skeins do one or two socks each?' I think some socks for her are next up after the second Anastasia. And unlike some big investment like a jumper, socks are relatively small and sweet. Concentrated love, as it were. Yep, I think I'm a sock convert. Because after the Mumsocks (Charade, I think?) I'm planning to Kool-Aid dye some lovely pure merino I have and turn them into lacy socks for me.

Hand-dye

Spidersknit's mama has been a silk painter for a long time, and Ms Spidersknit has been trying to 'splain that the same dyes will do for sock yarn, and sock yarn can be a surprisingly lucrative business. So last night Spiderknit's mama (whose name I never found out, actually) brought her first tries to our S'n'B, where they were snapped up in minutes. Being a half hour late, this was the only yarn left! (Not that I'm at all complaining. It would have been my pick of the bunch anyway). Can you believe this is her first try at dying? No? Well, let's compare it to this esteemed knitter's first try at dying.

Now do you see?

The yarn will become my first pair of socks. Undecided between Monkey and Jaywalkers (look, I might as well go with a winner, seeing as how the other sock I've knitted turned out).