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.