Hedgerow Socks: Heel Flap!

Look at that! It's a heel flap! A heel flap! OK, so it's eight rows of a heel flap. But isn't it the coolest 8 rows of a heel flap that you've ever seen?

(People looked bored)

This is my first heel flap, so I have to wave it around like a mini miracle. I was stumped by part of instructions, but Jane helped me the second I asked, so, emboldened, I picked up my sock.

This is a beginner sock, and by that, I mean that it has mistakes. After dropping a stitch that raveled a bit (I was trying the sock on) and picking it up, I managed to mess it up just a little, so there's a little flub along one side. Also, instead of 6 and a half inches when I began the heel flap, the leg actually measures about 7 1/4. But, I'm going easy on myself because this is my first sock.

Oh, and I am crossing my fingers, and hoping that some sock yarn that I ordered from
sundarayarnl (excuse the weird link, I'm still figuring out how to make them tidy) will still be in stock. It's an absolutely lovely color called Brier Rose. Forget the fact that I have not finished my first pair of socks. I need to start a stash! Besides, I picked up {This sock book} yesterday, which is making me feel supremely confident.

(And the sock gods laugh)

Jane's Hedgerow Socks: Sock Yarn & Damn DPNs

Because I have pictures in these posts, the text could be screwed up. I hope not. Anyway. Here beginneth the Saga of the Sock. S.

I needed yarn. The only yarn that I had in the entire house was two balls of Knitpicks Telemark, which is about as sexy as a cup of curdled milk. Translation: not at all. You can't do anything with that amount of yarn, except for try out stitch patterns. Which is amusing only for as long as you're amused. Yeah.

Before my planned trip to my LYS on Thursday, the pattern to {Jane‘s Hedgerow Socks} was published by the venerable Knittersreview. It really is a lovely pattern. Carefully, I noted down what was needed. 350-400 yards of fingering weight yarn. Size 1 double pointed needles. Bear in mind; I have never knitted socks before.

Thursday was hellishly hot. Melt in your shoes, humid as heck hot. The yucky, sticky kind. My LYS has amazing air conditioning. Crazy good air conditioning. It's refreshingly cold, and not too cold. Maybe all the yarn helps. Anyway, my brain, sensing the change, finally engaged after a few minutes, and I could focus on the yarn.

Being crap with names, I still can't tell you the name of the owner (?) But she enabled me. I found the DPNs. Addi 1s, bamboo, I'm pretty sure, or wood. I put them on the counter. An enormous shipment of yarn had just come in, new shelves had been put up, and I felt a little lost. I had gained a passing familarity with the way that everything was arranged and now everything was Changed.

Uber-tragic, I know.

I found the sock yarn. Contrary to what many people seem to adore, I really dislike the way that those self-striping yarns look. The colors clash, they don't feel nice. Eew. Then, I lifted mine eyes above, and spotted: The Perfect Yarn.

It was Lorna's at first sight.

Shepherd Sock. Fingering weight. And in the most beautiful pumpkin orange, with reddish tints and faint underlying yellow here and there. Harvest. The perfect fall name for a fall yarn. And, did I mention that I love fall? My birthday is in October of the Bluest Blue Sky.

LYS Owner: That is my favorite sock yarn.

My budget made faint squeaking noises. I needed two skeins, at $11, which was perfectly reasonable. Altogether, I would have 430 yds, quite enough for the pattern. But managing the needles as well would be difficult.

LYS Owner: Those are my last 1s, and I'm not sure when we're getting more. And those are my favorite needles.

Fate chuckled darkly.

I beat my budget into submission, and bought the needles and the yarn. A nice bonus was the 5% off coupon that I hadn't even noticed in the newsletter, which I had only happened to bring along. All in all, it came to $33.19. For a potential pair of socks. But I didn't care. I had the perfect pattern for the perfect yarn with the perfect needles.

So what you see is the skein of Lorna's Shepherd sock in the color Harvest, and the messy beginnings of a Hedgerow sock. That yarn is resilient; I've frogged it at least four different times, and it still looks great. The frogging is because I have never ever used double pointed needles and only got the hang of it by practicing with the despised Telemark.

The wonky edge of the sock is the double loop cast on, which is easy, and I actually think looks cute. I did it over two needles, just to make sure it was loose enough. Still, there's something miraclous about making something round from four needles.

My first sock, ever.

Feminism & Knitting: Or, Why Do Women Feel Guilty About Knitting?

Granted, there are men who knit, but the vast majority of people who knit are still women. So most of my experience with knitters are women who knit. And I kept wondering why they always sounded so guilty.

1. Stash guilt.

OMG, I just bought more sock yarn, and I already have 25 pair waiting to be made. OK, let's assume that each of those twenty five potential pairs of socks each cost $25. That would bring the total to, oh, $625. This is hours and hours of enjoying your hobby, and costs much, much less than many hobbies. ATVs, motorcycles, power tools, speed boats. Any hobby that requires to be filled with gasoline!

This paticular guilt is all over the place, especially if you google "Flash your Stash" and women whine about how they couldn't possibly show their stash to the world. Ever hear a guy complain that his new truck was too big?

2. Guilt over time spent knitting.

Stephanie McPearl's book title kept bothering me, and it finally became this blog post. The book is called, "At Knit's End: Meditations for Women Who Knit Too Much".

Hmm, let's find the male equivelent. "At Cord's End: Meditations for Men Who Buy Shiny Power Tools that They Rearrange In Their Garage But Never Use". I can't seem to find that in my B&N. How about; "At Apple's End: Meditations for Men Who Buy Every Generation of Every Apple Product, Hoping That They Eventually Improve". OK, maybe that one is too political.

Hee, hee, says the Microsoft Baby.

Edited to Add This:

3. Thanking Family Members For Tolerating Hobby

Why should someone be thanked because they 'put up' with your knitting? OK, if you leave DPNs on the floor on a regular basis, they should be thanked for not strangling you. Or if you bought yarn when there was barely enough money for, um, food. Yeah. Food. Without food, we die. DPNs and death are the only reason for thanking your husband/boyfriend/other for 'tolerating' your knitting.

My brain is fizzing, so I can't think of more guilt examples, but I'm sure that you can. Why is it that women feel so guilty about a hobby that costs less than many hobbies, lasts longer than most hobbies, and, frankly, makes a heck of a lot more sense than many hobbies. Power tool collecting, anyone?

I finally decided that it is because they are, in fact, women. The fact that a women would dare to take significant amounts of time and money to spend and use for herself is still too new. Especially because many men don't see what's so great about knitting, buying anything knitting related is taboo, or, 'silly'. Now, if men became knitters in drove, I could hear the talk now.

Guy One: Dude, you have no idea what a sweet deal. 50% off, and I had all the sock yarn to myself.

Guy Two: Yeah, but you should have seen the Addi Turbos that I got. I've ripped through, like, 3 sweaters already.

Knitting is heretical. Knitting goes against the grain of our super-fast, pragmatic culture. Knitting is still relegated, in many people's mind, to Grandma (the perpetually slandered Grandma!) who obviously only knitted because the poor dear didn't have anything else to do, not because she enjoyed it.

Knitting isn't praised because it is an enjoyable hobby. Knitting is marketed as something that you can make for others. If you aren't a nice knitter, than why should you be allowed to knit at all? The idea that knitters should freely give up their time to knit elaborate projects for other people, that knitters should freely give up their time to teach other people to knit (for free), that running a yarn store is really a big club for you and your friends, not a business, all of these ideas are connected to the idea that women are merely supposed to please others. To give to others.

Again, how many times are guys asked to construct complex wooden projects, just because they have a mini Home Depot in their garage?

Knit with pride. Knit for yourself. Knit for others. Knit with cashmere. Knit a cashmere power tool. Knit anything you damn well want.

My Rabbit is Better Than Your Rabbit

(Correction: I screwed up two bloggers in my mind, and referred to the wrong one. I was reading through the archives of both of their blogs, and mixed them up. All apologies to the Knitting Cumedgeon, and the actual person who owns Charcoal. I blame the rabbit. He. Is. Evil.)


Or, the annoying pet picture. The only reason that he gets one is because he is a rabbit, not a cat or a dog. The only other person that I know who has a rabbit is the


http://goknitinyourhat.blogspot.com/


There are eerie similarities.



1. We both have dwarf rabbits. Different kinds of dwarf rabbits, but that aside


2. They're black. I picked mine out because he was lying quietly in his own little spot.


3. Their names begin with C. Her rabbit is named Charcoal. Mine is named Caranthir, after the fourth son of Feanor from the Silmarillion.


Also; my rabbit gets along with dogs. Or, a dog. He used to play tag and run up and down the hall, chasing her, or being chased. He was never afraid of her. They've slept side by side.

And now that I've gotten that over with, there will be no more pet pictures, unless I find him with my knitting needles someday, making a scarf or something.

Look, Ma! My Knitpicks Order!

Faster than a speeding train, it's a bird, it's a plane, it's my order from Knitpicks! I'm absolutely thrilled to have these lovely books, because yesterday and today I have been feeling distinctly ill. Let's give it up for Ann Budd's, The Knitters Handy Book of Patterns and The Knitters Handy Book of Sweater Patterns.

First of all, I must say that Interweave knows knitters very well. The handy wire binding which enables the book to lay flat is only half the deal. There's also a handy elastic strap to keep the books closed (which I somehow managed to avoid photographing) and a sturdy pocket on the inside back cover, presumable for your notes and pages that you've copied. Oddly, however, the last page in the Handy Book of Patterns, which is entitled personalknittingnotes, is absent from the Sweater book. Perhaps they decided that the pocket was enough. Anyway, the glossy paper used doesn't usually lend itself to pen very well. Just be careful to avoid smearing.

At the end of each chapter there are QuickTips, which give handy tips on how to make the best mitten/hat/sweater that you can make. Also, there are Personal Touches, an example being several different edges given for hats.

I was surprised to read book reviews on Amazon about the Sweater book that claimed that all the sweater patterns/designs are shapeless drop sleeves. This is not true, and I'll give you an abridged Table of Contents to show you exactly what to expect from this book.

Drop-Shoulder Sweaters

Modified Drop-Shoulder Sweaters

Set-In Sleeve Sweaters

Saddle-Shoulder Sweaters

Raglan Sweaters

Seamless Yoke Sweaters

These are definitely long-term reference books. Ann is sweetly succinct in her introduction, and on the chatty factor. She explains why the books came about: she worked at a yarn store, people wanted basic patterns, and poof, years later, as Interweaves editor, she made it happen. It's not quite as brief as my description, but it's pretty close. I look forward to using both of these books for a long, long time.

Someone Wants Your Acrylic Yarn!

Check out this blog, http://worldofyarncraft.blogspot.com/, where someone actually wants the acrylic that you’ve been wondering what to do with. This must be SOLID COLOR acrylic, OK? I’m stunned that I will have a use for the Red Heart that my sister sent me, other than for pretending that I have a stash, when I don’t.

Babs

Knitpicks Summer Book Sale: Continued

Now that I have permanently scared away anyone who may have purchased either of the two books that I wanted, I can cool down and tell the Saga of the Book Purchase.

Knitpicks is a nice website. After processing my order, it only took two days from the day it shipped till the day it landed on my porch. One knitpick: the Delft Heather wool left blue on my needle tips, and bled so much in my very gentle handwash that I stopped quickly, afraid that I would end up with a white and grey scarf, instead of a blue and grey one.

I naturally investigated their Summer book sale, with 40% off everything that even beats Amazon, and didn’t order when nothing appealed to me. Yesterday, or perhaps the day before, they must have received a boat-load of books. I scrolled through the list, hands trembling slightly, trying to narrow it down. Finally, I settled on the Fatal Four.

Sweater Workshop (the wire binding where it lies flat?) by Jacqueline Fee

The Knitters Book of Finishing Techniques by Nancy Wiseman (I’ve drooled over this one at Borders for a long time)

The Knitter’s Handy Book of Patterns by Ann Budd

The Knitter’s Handy Book of Sweater Patterns, also by Ann Budd.

However…

The Fates were at work. When I went to check out, I was informed that Sweater Workshop wasn’t available, and wouldn’t be until the 22nd. Then, the Book of Finishing Techniques was also put on my “Save for Later” list. In a panic, I hastily filled in all the necessary information, and clicked “Place Order.”

After all, 2 is better than 0, right?

Then, an innocent little screen popped up. It said something along the lines of, “Please fill in blah code to expedite order”. It would not place my order unless I typed in some mysterious code to do something that I didn’t even ask it to do! I attempted to place my order several times.

Nothing. In misery, I decided that everything that I wanted was doomed to sell out, felt sorry for myself, ate inordinate amounts of butter pecan ice cream, and wrote my irate blog entry.

But then!

Oh joy! Oh bliss! Oh joyful bliss! At arouns 11, the Knitpicks website must have finally slowed down and corrected whatever glitch that was, and soon, in the mail, I will have my two new Ann Budd books. Huzzah!

Knitpicks Summer Book Sale

Damn you! Damn you all to hell, fellow knitters!

I wanted Sweater Workshop really bad, and the Knitters Book of Finishing Techniques, and YOU BOUGHT THEM ALL!

Damn!

Mother of Purl

Step aside, Zimmerman. Put down those needles. Hide your face in shame. You have just met your Maker.
I.

Can.

Purl.

Yes, yes, I know that it isn’t much, but when the biggest project that you’ve ever made is a garter stitch scarf that was nearly six feet long, learning to purl is AMAZING. I stared myself blind at the yucky illustrations in Teach Yourself Visually Knitting and last night, at Borders, meditated on the clear, illuminating pictures in Claire Crompton’s Knitting Bible.
I can do this, I thought.

And this evening—I did!

After I convinced myself that I wasn’t making a weird knit stitch, I felt infinitely superior to all people who dislike purling. I love purling. In fact, I am never going to knit again. I’m not going to be a knitter, I’m going to be a purler.

Cough.

And tomorrow, I am going to my Local Yarn Store, and look everyone there straight in the eye.

I can purl, and I’m not afraid of it.

The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting: Review and Corrections

In my previous post, I said that two books (Complete Book of Trad. Knitting and the Complete Book of Trad. Fair Isle) had no color photos. I stand corrected: the Traditional Knitting book contains all of seven color photos, which fact is proudly stated on the dustjacket flap.

OK, enough with the mocking of the poor book. I actually have spent much of today poring over it, and enjoyed it very much. An excerpt from the dustjacket blurb-

Nearly every country has developed its own traditions in knitting patterns and techniques: Fair Isle knitting is worked without seams; Finnish needleworkers favor looped knitting; and in Peru, intricately shaped caps are knitted in brilliant colors. In the Complete Book of Traditional Knitting, Rae Crompton takes needleworkers on a grand tour to sample the unique traditions of knitters from Tibet to Peru anf from Iceland to the isles of Greece.

I have to say, some of my favorite parts of the book would be the examples of very old knitting, such as very old, ornate silk knitted gloves, or a delicate and astonishing lace shawl from Unst. For some reason, I have fallen in love with lace. Old black and white photos people sporting their fancy knitting wear, or old woman, knitting.

My absolute favorite picture is a young woman, perhaps in her later twenties, knitting in Fair Isle. The needle size is wire thin—terrifying, really. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. She is dressed in a white dress that comes to her knees; her hair is dark and smooth and parted in the middle. Other finished items, also in intricate Fair Isle pattern, lay in her lap. It looks like a moment, caught out of time, a brief opening of a life now closed.

An added plus is that one of 18 patterns in the back; a frothy lace scarf, involves no purling. And, it takes a size 7 needle, 7 being one of my favorite numbers. Random, I know.
The needle sizes are in UK sizes, and there is a conversion chart in the back. Also, many of the recommended yarns do not exist, except in someone’s stash. Templeton’s H and O Shetland Lace, anyone? The gauge of these yarns are not given, so this is irritating.

There’s a funny incident connected with this book. I giggled over a ridiculous photo (in color!) which depicts a determined looking man with frizzy orange hair. He’s striking a pose that seems more appropriate for someone about to start a brawl than anything else. The more I look, the more angry he appears. However, that is not the incident.

Perched next to him on the green wooden fence, is what I assumed was another man. Younger, and heavy-set, with golden hair and heavy bangs, wearing a chunky white Aran sweater than only enhances his heavy-setness. However, when Best Friend peered over my shoulder, she said, uncertainly,

”Is that a—I think that’s supposed to be a woman!”

I scoffed, ready to rebuke her for her ignorance. However, after staring at the photo, I was horrified. I couldn’t tell if It was a man or a woman!

For those who are interested in the book, it is Out Of Print. The deadly statement, I know.
Here’s a run down on the contents and the specs.

Title: The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting
Author: Rae Compton
ISBN: 0684178664
Binding: Hardcover

Contents:

Acknowledgement

Chapter 1: Introduction

Chapter 2: The Root of the Matter

Chapter 3: Shetland and Fair Isle

Chapter 4: Britain

Chapter 5: Aran

Chapter 6: Iceland and the Faroe Islands

Chapter 7: Sweden

Chapter 8: Norway

Chapter 9: Central Europe

Chapter 1o: Northen Lace {I love this chapter!}

Chapter 11: Echoes from the Past

Chapter 12: Patterns from the East and West

Chapter 13: Traditional Patterns (There are 18 of these)

The current prices on Amazon from third party sellers range from $22-31-47. Better hurry and get one of the lower priced copies, otherwise it will end up this this book.

Alice Starmore: The Scottish Collection, Rare, OOP

Scoop!

My bad luck has broken!

Today, I found five lovely knitting books, and paid—-hold onto your hat—-$4. Thank you, library book sales!

Obviously the library decided to clean out their knitting section, and decided that the following were not worth keeping.

1. Meg Swanson’s Knitting: 30 Designs for Hand Knitting

2. The Handknitter’s Design Book: A Practical Guide to Creating Beautiful Knitwear By Allison Ellen

3. Kaffe’s Classics: 25 Favorite Knitting Patterns for Sweaters, Jackets, Vests, And More/ By Kaffe himself, of course

4. The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting by Rae Crompton

5. The Complete Book of Traditional Fair Isle Knitting by Sheila McGregor

The last two are funny little ducks; neither having any color pictures inside, because they are older. Right now, these books are basically eye candy, since I have absolutely no skills to make anything in any of them, unless there is such a thing as a sweater done entirely in garter stitch. Hopefully I will be able to say more about them after browsing them.

You cannot imagine my triumph when I spotted them. Just imagine a rather silly looking person swooping upon a table and randomly begin grabbing books, then creep away stealthily, waiting for the knitting gods to strike with anger and vengeance, and you have a good idea of what I looked like.

Ridiculous, and ridiculously happy and smug.

All Your Yarn Are Belong to Us

OK, first a confession.

I’ve finished my Ravenclaw scarf.

So I need to weave in some ends, or hack them off, or whatever I’m going to do with all the ends. Since I’m currently annoyed with the recipient, I’ll probably just snip them off. I received my order Saturday, and finished it Monday evening. Completed, the scarf roughly measures six feet long.

I did not follow a pattern, but eyeballed it all the way. I cast on 35 stitches, and knitted until it ‘looked right’ then changed to the grey, then blue, then grey, then blue again. I followed the more sophisticated scarf pattern, which involves a large block of blue, skinny grey stripe, skinny blue stripe, another grey stripe, then another block of blue. The picture will explain it all, and I’ll included the ‘pattern.’

However, since the scarf is finished, I’m already bored and restless.

And today, I finally walked into a real yarn store.

Without revealing my top secret location (a bunker in the side of a mountain, only accessible by helicopter, naturally) I’ll say that the closest yarn store is the Market Street Yarn & Crafts store, W.V. Feeling slightly intimidated, I walked into a place, with a feeling like you’re walking into a church. An ornate, hushed Catholic church that your cousins attend, while you’re the lonely Protestant off-shoot.

Oh. My.

I was immeaditely greeted by two friendly ladies, names escape me now, I want to call one of them Pam, but I’m not sure. One ducked out a few minutes later. I was on my knees much of the time, not exactly in reverence, but sort of. They had every kind of yarn that I’d heard of, but never gotten the chance to actually examine in this Red Heart Wasteland. Noro, Lorna’s Laces, Debbie Bliss, Blue Sky, Cascade, , luciously soft alpaca whose name escapes me, Elizabeth Lavold, tweed this, and tweed that, yarn with Teflon in it, sock yarn, lace yarn—I nearly keeled over. However, it was kind of hard to stroke the soft alpaca silk while lying on the floor, so I didn’t.

There were also books, everywhere, on racks, on turnstile ‘thingies’ books all over. Books plus yarn. It was enchanting. I kept coming back to this lovely, slightly fat yarn with alpaca and something else in it; the plum and yellow colors just screamed Hufflepuff. Perfect for the scarf I wanted for a friend. It also felt dreamily soft, but not fragile.

However, I still need to consult with them on exactly how this scarf is to be made, so, reluctantly, I left it behind, as well as this lovely soft hank of alpaca in a pure, crisp, natural white. Wah. I’ll come back to you, my darlings, I promise—-and you, too, “Pam”!

Ravenclaw Scarf

I received some very wise advice: don’t knit a sweater. Or, at least, practice your rusty skills before spending money on yarn for a sweater. So, what else, I decided that I must knit myself a Ravenclaw scarf. Blue and bronze are the correct colors to use, but bronze is hard to come by in yarn colors.

So it is blue and silver.

On its way—at least, by tomorrow it should be—are five balls of Knitpick’s Telemark “Delft Heather” and three of their “Squirrel Heather”. I don’t care for the squirrel part of it, but it’s the perfect color. Oh, and incidentally, the whole package—100% Peruvian yarn and shipping—came to $18.41.

As soon as it arrives, I intend to ‘unbox’ it and post some yarn porn. Maybe I could add some racy photos of some bare bamboo needles. Wow.

Ravelry

Ravelry.com, a knitting and crocheting website, with the all the fuss, flutter and hype, looks really great in the sneak peeks for those who are still waiting for an invite. So, I signed up this morning. Read that again.

This. Morning.

Now, here are the stats

You signed up on Today
You are #17194 on the list.
11117 people are ahead of you in line.
400 people are behind you in line.
33% of the list has been invited so far

Oh, yeah, and when I hit refresh just now, 3 more people have signed up. For a site still in beta, this is hot, hot, hot. Abo-so-lute-a-lee insane.

I can’t wait for my invitation!

Oh, and…

404.

Horrid Luck

I am a hideously unlucky person.

Before I thought about knitting, I could find knitting anywhere. I must have seen Vogue Knitting hundreds of times in various Goodwills and thrift stores. Now that I want the beast book, I can’t lay my hands on it to save my life. Of course, I could just pay for a new copy, but it’s the principle of the thing that irritates me.

If you like cross-stitch and have lots of money, I can find you millions dozens of books on cross-stitch, and I will mail them to you for the cost of the books, plus the cost of the shipping, plus enough money to make me fabulously wealthy. Unfortunately, anyone who would make such an offer would probably find that my horrible luck will continue to hold.

And the cross-stitching books will quietly sneak away…

Project K-n-i-t-t-i-n-g

I am charging into this knitting project without knowing how to purl, increase, decrease, or even how to read those cryptic abbreviations used in patterns. A $10 journal from Barnes & Noble and this blog will record my journey.

Pattern: Mademoiselle Jacket

Designer: Erika Knight (Classic Knits: Fifteen Timeless Designs to Knit and Keep Forever)

Yarn: Rowan RYC Natural Silk Aran

This is my first sweater and my first major project. The only thing that I ever completed was a shawl in soft, fuzzy cranberry yarn. I’m going to use bamboo needles. I’m returning the aluminum needles that I bought from Walmart. I just need 7 size needles and the yarn. At $8 a pop from a seller in the UK, it’s not cheap.

I’m depending on the fact that I can take this one stitch at a time to carry me through. I’ve never even freaking purled yet. I am stupid for imagining that I can make this. I cannot wait to get that lucious yarn on those needles!