Once again, DH has worn holes through his handknits – this time, through the soles of a pair of socks.
Side note: He didn’t detect the holes; I did. I’m always amazed that he manages to create holes without ever noticing them.
Fortunately, the holes and the neighboring thin spots were all in the same area, under the ball of the foot; the rest of the socks were in good shape. Re-knitting from the mid-foot down would result in a decent pair of socks, ready to withstand more abuse… and would be a whole lot faster than knitting a whole new pair of socks.
I started by cutting off the toe of the first sock…
…and unraveling down.
The first few rows were a little fussy, but eventually the yarn started to unravel easily enough. Once I got past the end of the thin spots, I started unknitting stitch by stitch, placing stitches back on needles as I went.
Soon enough, I had all the stitches back on needles.
After just a few rows, it was clear the repair was going well. You can see a slight change in the color and texture of the yarn – Blue Moon Fiber Arts® Twisted – but I imagine the difference will disappear after a little wear and a wash or two.
And then… the finished sock!
Now for sock #2… and then the glove fingers that need repair, and the felted slippers that need new bottoms… ah, it doesn’t end, does it?
PS. Anybody have any ideas for the cut-off toes? I figure they could be filled with lavender and turned into sachets, or filled with catnip and turned into cat toys. Or I could just toss them and not have yet another project hanging over my head. Your thoughts?
Right after completing the dubbelmossa, I needed to cast on for another project. (Because none of the UFOs hidden under the end table would do, of course.) What did I choose?
Toe socks. Because apparently I can’t stop at just one or two pairs.
Years and years ago, Da Hubster started asking questions over dinner one night. “How much yarn do you need to knit a sweater? What do you mean, ‘it depends on the weight of the yarn’? What’s your favorite weight of yarn?” That sort of thing. I was thrilled – he’d never shown much interest in my knitting before.
I was also clueless. It was a couple months before Christmas, and he was gathering the intel he needed to make a very special purchase.
Fast-forward to Christmas day. I open the package to discover a sweater’s worth of sport-weight qiviut. I was stunned. He knew I coveted some qiviut – he’d seen me petting a teeny tiny sample I owned. But he didn’t know that I coveted, say, a single skein of laceweight qiviut, enough for a scarf or shawlette. He didn’t know that no-one in their right mind would knit a sweater out of sport-weight qiviut. What with qiviut being 8 times warmer than wool, you’d have to live somewhere seriously cold – you know, like Antarctica – to be able to wear the sweater. I had to thank DH for his thoughtfulness and generosity, but I also had to make him promise not to make any more special yarn purchases on my behalf.
But what to do with the qiviut? Swatching revealed that it fared best with exceptionally plain stitch patterns, ones that stayed out of the way and let the fiber’s soft halo take center stage. Practicality demanded simple accessories. So, over the years, I knit hats: one for me, one for DH, one for a friend about to go trekking in the Himalayas, and one for a friend going through chemo.
Four very plain hats made a dent in the qiviut stash. They also completely obliterated my desire to knit another plain hat. So my most recent qiviut hat – finished yesterday, thank you – is a little different:
Can’t see the qiviut? That’s because the hat is a dubbelmossa, a two-layer hat like Meg Swansen’s Dubbelmossa:
The outer layer is Brooklyn Tweed Loft in Woodsmoke and Birdbook – they’re lovely together, aren’t they? The stitch pattern is a variation on something in Alice Starmore’s Charts for Color Knitting. And the crown shaping was inspired by Claire Boissevain-Crooke’s hats, especially her Alpine Star Hat.
I love how the shaping starts:
And how it ends with three diamonds meeting at the top of the hat:
I couldn’t be happier with how the hat turned out. And the best part? I do believe I have enough yarn – qiviut and Loft – to make another.
A year ago, I had an idea for a scarf. Months ago, I knit the scarf. And I was disappointed: given my limited yarn supply, the scarf ended up narrower than I’d hoped for. And so I neglected to blog about it. (It’s a flimsy excuse, but it’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.)
But then the weather got decidedly nippy this past week. And while tidying up, I came across the nearly-forgotten scarf. I tried it on.
What do you know, I really like it, despite its narrow width – or, dare I say, perhaps because of the narrow width?
The idea was to knit an endless loop scarf, with a variety of wearing options. First up, the classic loop:
My favorite option is simply to wear it doubled:
But tripling it creates a cozy cowl:
Had the scarf been wider, I don’t think it would be as wearable. Rather, I think it would be a bit too bulky. As it is, it’s nearly perfect.
Vital stats: Fiesta 32º, Ballet, and La Luz. (The sampler skein of La Boheme refused to knit up at a gauge reasonably close to the others, and so got omitted from the scarf.)
If you look closely at the photos, you’ll see that one side is matte, and the other is a bit shiny. That’s because all the purl welts on one side were knit from 32º, and the welts on the other side alternated between Ballet and La Luz. I’m quite happy with the results. 🙂
More toes
By JC | November 8, 2012
Grab a cup of tea; this is gonna be a long one.
•
I’d like to tell you that I finished two pairs of socks in the past few days. Finishing two pairs in quick succession would’ve been a novelty for me, since I normally practice serial monogamy with my knitting projects. But while enjoying Interweave Knitting Lab last weekend, I switched between two sock projects at whim. It was fun, and after completing the first pair with just a toe left to go on the second, I was eager to get to the finish line.
Too eager, as it turns out. I finished off the round toe, wove in my ends, and went to model the socks for the first time… only to discover I’d omitted a full repeat of the stitch pattern on the foot of the second sock. Twenty-eight missing rows! You’d think I’d notice before knitting the toe, but you’d be wrong. Time to rip!
On the bright side, I discovered that the finish I prefer for round toes – thread the tail through the final few stitches twice, using a trick I teach in Bind-off Bonanza to pull the tail tight – is really secure. I could not free the end from the last few stitches! I had to pull out scissors and snip a thread.
•
Sorry, no pictures of the too-short sock: (1) It was embarrassingly short, with the heel of the sock only reaching the back of my foot’s arch. And (2), it was a stealth project, destined for a sock club. Pictures forthcoming, after the club shipment!
But I can share photos of the other sock project, the one I did finish. It was another pair of toe socks. This time, I was determined to get the pinkie toes right. Are you ready? I have a series of blow-by-blow photos.
I started by knitting the toes individually, trying them on to ensure each was the right length.
After joining the second and third toes, I knit even until the combination was the right length. A clip-on marker made it easy to count rounds from the join, to ensure the second sock would be the same.
Next up: adding in the big toe and the fourth toe, and knitting even until it was time to add in the pinkie toe. This is where I’d goofed on my first pair of toe socks, not knitting far enough.
This time: success! The pinkie toe of the sock snuggles down and fits neatly over my pinkie toe. Now, the clip-on marker indicates the beginning of rounds.
Of course, up until now the toes have been “joined” only in the sense that I’ve worked across the stitches of one toe to the stitches of the neighboring toes. Some stitches between the toes were left aside to be grafted together later. Modeling the proto-sock on the other foot shows red waste-yarn tails (holding live stitches) and green yarn tails (to be used for grafting).
Grafting those toe junctures was admittedly the most fiddly part of the whole toe sock, but it only took one evening.
From there, it was plain stockinette for the foot, and a modified Sweet Tomato Heel with mini-gussets.
Oddly, just two wedges gave me the length I needed. I’m tempted to knit these socks yet again, working the first wedge with progressively shorter short rows and the second wedge with progressively longer short rows. Mm, yes. Because everyone needs three pairs of toe socks, right?
Once the heel was done, it was k2, p2 rib and Jeny’s Surprisingly Stretchy Bind-off.
I love them. I’m wearing them right now, as a matter of fact.
Vital stats: Blue Moon Fiber Arts® Socks that Rock® mediumweight, size 2.75mm needles.
•
Speaking of Interweave Knitting Lab, it was a blast. My students were great, picking up skills quickly and asking really good questions. And it was fun to hang out with teachers that I hadn’t met before, or who I don’t get to see all that often.
IKL was my last teaching gig of 2012, but my 2013 schedule is already filling up: Tuscon in January, Madrona and Stitches West in February, Yarnover in April, and – looking further out – The Knitting Guild of Greater Buffalo in October. Whew! It’s gonna be a busy year.
Too early?
By JC | October 19, 2012
Catching up on blog and Facebook posts this morning, I’m reminded of the tradition of “the Rhinebeck sweater,” the idea that one should parade around Rhinebeck wearing freshly-minted handknits. And then I’m reminded that I’m planning to go to Rhinebeck for the first time next year. That means I have one year to come up with a new sweater. Should I start now? Or would that be too early? It seems that tradition also states that one should start knitting no sooner than mid-September, or that weaving in the ends on way to Rhinebeck is some sort of badge of honor. If so, I’m sure I can pull it off. I can procrastinate with the best of y’all.
Whee!
By JC | October 16, 2012
While at Stitches East this past weekend (a fabulous event, as always), I found out that I get to teach at next February’s Madrona retreat. I don’t yet know exactly what I’m teaching, but that hardly matters. I’m just thrilled to be going. 🙂
In other news, the rest of my 2013 schedule is starting to fill up. In January, I’m headed to Tuscon for a visit with the Old Pueblo Knitters Guild and some classes at Kiwi Knitting. And in October (yes, sometimes planning does happen a year or more in advance), it’s the Knitting Guild of Greater Buffalo. I figure the following weekend I’ll catch Rhinebeck for the first time. Whoo hoo! Anyone have any advice for a Rhinebeck newbie?
It was brought to my attention yesterday that Cat’s Sweet Tomato Heel Socks e-book suggests working increases on the sole before knitting the heel, if you have a high arch. Whoops! So it does, both in the general instructions on page 3 and in the individual sock patterns. Doing so would’ve eliminated the need for mini-gussets. Hmm. I must’ve skimmed right over that part of the general instructions. Or maybe the concept didn’t stick because I don’t think of myself as having a high arch. Either way, I still like my mini-gussets.
After wearing my toe socks for a few hours, though, I have to say I’m a little less fond of the fit. The pinkie toes on the socks pooch out a little bit beyond my actual pinkie toes. At first, I thought perhaps I’d knit the pinkie toes a little too long. Closer inspection, however, revealed a different culprit: After joining all the toes but the pinkie toe, I knit three rounds plain before joining the pinkie toe, but I should’ve knit more than three rounds… seven, or maybe eight.
Oh, well. I was already figuring on knitting more toe socks anyway. It’ll be a bit like the gloves I knit a couple years back, with the second iteration trumping the first.
Secret project out of the way, I was able to return to and finish my “gotta have ’em now” toe socks:
I’m thrilled that I pulled this particular skein of Blue Moon Fiber Arts Silkie Socks that Rock out of my stash. The colors just scream “fun!” Which is what you need when your toes look (and feel!) a little like Muppet fingers, right?
Starting at the toes was definitely the right way to go. It let me try on each toe to ensure it fit, and – better yet – it let me get all the fussiness out of the way early: after knitting just a half-inch of the foot, I paused to graft the junctures between the toes, and then it was zip! zip! zip! in stockinette along the foot.
For fun, I decided to try Cat Bordhi’s Sweet Tomato Heel construction. It’s composed of three wedges, using an ingenious short-row technique: No wraps! No pins, as in Japanese short rows! Just smooth, hole-free fabric.
Alas, after knitting the first heel and a portion of the leg, I had to admit to myself that the heel was too tight. There just weren’t enough stitches going around the fullest part of my heel and over the instep. (I suspect that I prefer my socks a little snugger than most knitters prefer theirs, and a good deal snugger than Cat prefers hers. With less ease, the fit of the socks is less forgiving and has to be more tailored.) So I ripped that heel, and re-knit it using a time-honored trick: a series of increases just before the heel (and corresponding decreases just after the heel) forming little gussets. Look close at the photo above; you can see the gussets just above and below the heel.
Specifically, I increased one stitch on each side of the sock on every other round until I had increased the stitch count by 20%. Then I worked the heel over those stitches and the sole stitches. That meant the heel was worked over 70% of the original stitch count – a bit more than the 67% recommended by Cat’s e-book, but who’s going to quibble over a couple stitches?
Overall, despite having to knit three heels, I had a lot of fun with these socks… which is good, as I already suspect I’ll wear these socks out early and need to knit another pair just like them.
On hold
By JC | August 24, 2012
My crescent shawlette project is on hold. I’d predicted fairly early on that I’d need a second skein of yarn (Valley Yarns Charlemont Kettle Dye in dark olive – thankfully, I found the missing ball band), and that I’d be able to buy it from WEBS at Stitches Midwest. Right on the first count, wrong on the second: WEBS didn’t bring that particular color to Stitches. Oh, well. My online order ought to be here soon.
In the meantime, while at Stitches I started my laptop sleeve, using two strands of Brown Sheep Lamb’s Pride held together:
I’m really happy with the cable I chose, Looping Wave from Barbara Walker’s Charted Knitting Designs. The game plan is to knit a long piece of fabric, felt it, trim it to size, fold it in half, and sew the side edges with a contrast color.
Note the “trim to size” part of the plan. That snuck in there as an alternative to knitting swatches, measuring gauge before and after felting them, and properly planning the project. It seemed like a good, expedient idea at the time, but after re-reading Bev Galeskas’ Felted Knits, the need to felt a swatch re-asserted itself. Have I done it yet? Nope. So this project is on hold too.
Actually, I’d probably still be making progress on the laptop sleeve – felted swatches and all — except I was seized on Sunday morning by a severe case of startitis.
Side note: I’m not the only knitter that suffers from startitis on Sundays, am I? With the work week over, and the weekend chores completed on Saturday, Sunday stretches wide open with the promise of free time… or so it seems, anyway.
This Sunday, I had to start a pair of toe socks. There was no denying the urge. By the end of the day, I had completed several toes and joined some together. And as of yesterday, I have most of the first foot done, in Blue Moon Fiber Arts Silkie Socks that Rock:
The toes fit great, and I’d like to finish these socks so I can start wearing them… but, alas, this project is on hold too. Yesterday, I finally received some long-awaited yarn for a secret project. That project has a due date… so it can’t be put on hold!