Monthly Archives: April 2012

Very. Slow. Progress.

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I know the key word there should be “progress,” but mostly it just feels like “slow.” Anyway. Remember all that time ago when I said I was casting on for a sweater? Well, I actually did that. And then I got distracted by socks and life and it languished. It’s my in-the-background project, so I was alright with it not being a priority.

Last week, though, I decided I should dedicate some actual time to it, otherwise it was just going to be a background project forever, and nothing is less motivating than returning to a project that seems to be going nowhere. So, Tuesdays and Thursdays are now for sweater -knitting only (well, and work and cooking and all that other stuff; it’s more like any knitting that gets done on those days must be for the sweater). It’s been two weeks, and this is what I have to show for myself:

April 10, barely beyond the ribbing and before my dedicated sweater knitting plan.

April 20.

Today

This is Buckwheat by Veera Valimaki and I am being unoriginal and knitting in the same colourway she did, which is Malabrigo Sock ochre (had I seen Boticelli Red at the time, things might have been different). To get gauge I had to go up to a 4.5 mm needle, which means the wool and needle pairing are not exactly natural (tiny wool, biggish needle), so I feel the need to hold everything more tightly than normal, which is slowing me down.

I’m not quite at the waist shaping, which means I’m just far enough along to start worrying that it won’t fit. I have no reason to think this except that I tend to think this about everything  knit right around the point that I’m far enough into it that ripping back seems unfathomable.  Thus, I will not be ripping this and will instead persevere with the assumption that I’m being crazy and everything will work out.

City of Craft is an enabler

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The City of Craft Spring show was on Saturday, and you can bet Wendy and I had a countdown going. We got there shortly after doors opened and man oh man, the talent blooming in Toronto is just astounding. I have always loved going to craft-type shows where local artists sell their work, but since I began knitting in ernest I have developed a whole new appreciation for the ingenuity, dedication, and type committed to the work.

This is all a lead-in to say that it was a morning of purchases galore. I don’t shop much in my normal life, so I don’t mind splurging every once in a while, especially when it’s one beautiful handmade things – or things with which to make beautiful, handmade things. This is the beauty of the City of Craft setup: not only are you presented with gorgeous finished pieces, but crafters are notorious enablers, so you can fill your boots with supplies too.

Here’s what I got:

1 pound of fabric bits and two little bags of vintage buttons from The Workroom:

Green fabric! Check out those guitars...

Blue fabric! I love the elephants.

Buttons that have pairs.

Buttons that don't match.

I have no real plan for these except that I will need buttons for the sweater I’m knitting and I think some of the fabric might become napkins.

More vintage buttons from a vendor whose name I have completely forgotten (is it you? Please let me know):

Six unmatched buttons in a similar colour, in a similar size.

A lovely little notions pouch from Bookhou, whose prints I’ve been admiring for years (I also bought a little cloth wallet, but it’s in my purse in the other room and I’m being lazy):

Notions pouch!

These did not come with it.

And, drumroll please, a needle roll from Knotted Nest:

Unrolled.

Rolled up.

A drumroll for a needle roll might seem a bit over the top, but I have been looking for one of these (ie: one that’s pretty and interesting AND holds several sizes/types of needle) for months, to no avail. And I don’t mean casually looking. I mean scouring Etsy and knit shops and blogs. So, thank you Knotted Nest for ending my search in such a beautiful and satisfying manner.

Aside1 : When I got home and proudly showed L all of my purchases, he sort of looked on with casual interest until I got to the needle roll and then he said, “Oh no.”
Me: What?
Him: I guess it’s serious.
Me: What?
Him: You’re really serious about knitting.
Me: Well, yes. Also, this doesn’t mean I have more needles, just that they’ll be better organized.
Him: Still. Now it’s serious. You’re a knitter.

Aside 2: When we were leaving, Nicole (who was working the door) asked to see what we bought. One glance into my bag and she laughed. “You like green, huh?”

And that, my friends, is what we call a positive result!

Nine grams of leeway

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I finished the first cabled sock yesterday, which was a moment of great satisfaction that quickly turned to concern. Knitting cables takes more wool than knitting flat. I knew that. Knitting at a really tight gauge takes more wool. I knew that too. I did both of those things anyway, and when I looked down at my completed sock and then at what was left of the 440-yard ball of wool, I got a little worried. The ball, you see, was really small. It definitely seemed like less than half of what I started with. I thought back to my wastefully indulgent long-tail cast-on, and how generous a tail I’d given myself to Kitchener the toe and I got worried. I tried holding the wool in one hand and the completed sock in the other for comparison, but it was too close to tell.

My first reaction was to head to my LYS to pick up an insurance skein. I figured I wouldn’t need it until at least the foot, but still, planning ahead can’t hurt. They didn’t have any. After that, there was only one choice: buy a scale. And look! It turns out I might be okay.

Finished sock = 45 grams

Remaining wool = 54 grams

45 grams is definitely less than 54 grams! I agree that it’s strange that the numbers are flipped, but I don’t care. That’s nine extra grams! If I can knit exactly the same sock a second time, I’ll be fine.

After this success, I basically wanted to weight everything. I thought about weighing Ganymede, but she gave me one cold look that said not a chance, so I settled on my tea cup.

Half a kilo – I guess that's normal?

Obviously, this isn’t relevant to anything. But I am pleased.

After all the weighing was over, I turned my lights out for Earth Hour and knit the ribbing for the second sock by candlelight. It turns out, oddly, that I actually don’t mind knitting 2×2 rib  as much when I can’t see it. It’s also a good rhythm, and allows you to feel your way along, knowing whether or not you’ve accidentally dropped a stitch in the dark. Also, it looks nice, no?

Bad for my eyes, but nice to look at.

Turning a corner, so to speak

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A little while ago I started thinking about a pair of socks I wanted to knit. This isn’t that unusual, except that it wasn’t a pair I’d seen out there before. I poked around on Ravelry and didn’t see the socks I wanted, so I decided to hunker down and do the math and figure them out myself. Admittedly, they weren’t too tricky or fancy, and that was kind of the appeal. After colourwork and lacework, what I really wanted was a sock that was easy to knit, but not boring. I knew exactly what yarn I wanted to use (I’d spotted it on my shopping spree), so when I saw it again I snapped it up and set about charting.

Malabrigo sock in colourway Boticelli Red – it's an incredibly deep and decadent colour.

I cast on last week, and I’m pretty pleased with how things are progressing.

This is actually my first cable project (so it still qualifies as a socks-as-learning-tool project), which added a little bit more daring to the design. I’m also knitting at a really tight gauge (about 11 stitches to an inch), which I’m hoping will make for a long-wearing sock.

What really pleases me about this project, though, is that for the first time, my ssks look just like my k2togs. Seriously. Maybe you don’t have this problem, but for me, my decreases rarely match. They’re close, absolutely, but they just aren’t quite equal. It always seemed that no matter what I did, my ssk had a floppy arm. There, I said it. It was imperfectly formed, and although I’m sure no one else noticed, I noticed, and I bugged me.  It turns out, though, that there’s a solution: Cat Bordhi devised a way to make “slim and trim ssks” (YouTube link) and you know what? It totally works. I will never ssk without a “hungry stitch” again if I can help it. Just look at this:

ssk

k2tog

I thought the cables would be my favourite part of the socks, but you know, I think the ssks are jockeying their way forward. They’re so tidy. They’re so trim. They’re so indistinguishable from their k2tog brethren. I’m excited to get to the toes where their matchy-ness will really be on display. This is an incredibly nerdy thing to be excited about, but I just found out that, after months of thinking ‘there has to be a better way,’ it turns out there is. I am thrilled!

My Favourite Time of Year

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When I was a kid (and really, to this day, even though I’m not there) my parents’ backyard was filled with cherry trees. There was the big, old original one, and then, thanks to squirrels, birds, and raccoons, nearly a dozen smaller ones all over the property. Combine those with two mature old pear trees and let me tell you, early Spring was a flurry of blossoms. I miss that clear statement of change and waking up now that I’m not home, so when I saw on Twitter last week that the cherry blossoms were out in High Park, L and I made a plan.

On Saturday morning we bicycled over. It was overcast and not very warm, but there were still lots of people there and the trees were overflowing with frothy clouds of white and pink blossoms. It rained on Saturday night and most of Sunday, so I can only assume the flowers have been trampled. If you didn’t get to see them (or you’re far away and don’t have fruit trees of your own), here’s a taste of High Park in full-on Sakura blossom glory.

Overcast skies do not set off white blossoms to their advantage. But nonetheless, lovely, no?

I think this train is hilarious.

I prefer not to look at the skyscrapers when I'm in the park, but I do love the juxtaposition.

After our walk through the park we went to Roncesvalles for coffee and to pick up paczki (delicious Polish doughnuts) and homemade pierogie. Not bad for a Saturday, I’d say – especially since it also involved some very productive knitting time, of which, more later.

Weekend socks

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As I mentioned, I finished the Happy-Go-Lucky boot socks on the weekend and I am mostly pleased with them. I was a little worried I wouldn’t have enough wool to get them done, though, because halfway through the second foot, I was looking at this weeny little balls and wishing very much that I had a scale at home. I managed to squeak them out, though, and have barely enough of either of the stripy colours to fill a thimble.

Worried. So worried I took a photo.

I have some quibbles with the way the pattern is written, but first, pictures!

Count 'em: two finished socks!

L and I are both going to work on our sock photography/modeling for next time.

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, here are the details:
Pattern: Happy-Go-Lucky boot socks by Véronik Avery, from Sock Knitting Master Class
Yarn: Cascade 220 Superwash Sport in colourways 1910 (blue), 859 (teal), and 803 (purple)
Needles: 2.75 mm Clover bamboo dpns

Blocking really helped. You can see how smooth the blocked sock on the left is, compared to the unblocked and bumpy one on the right.

In terms of modifications, I did a few things this time and have others planned for next time around. First, though, let me explain something fundamental: This pattern is only written for an 8.5-inch foot. My foot is 9-inches around. I knit this anyway. I increased the gauge slightly, and, mathematically, that should have done it. However, these socks are quite, erm, fitted, and as I said previously, I was actually worried I wouldn’t be able to get my foot all the way in. Clearly, I can, but it’s a strain, and it pulls the stitches, and the colourwork doesn’t look as pretty as it ought to. So, that’s the background, here are the modifications:

Actual mods: Besides changing the gauge, I also added an extra pattern repeat to the leg because I wanted it to be a little higher, and when decreasing the gusset I only went down to 34 heel stitches (instead of 30) because I don’t think my foot width is really that much narrower than my ankle/leg width.

Future mods: This is a little tricky, because I’m just not sure what to do about the heel area. In theory, I want to add an extra six stitches (one diamond) to the pattern, which would give me a little more space. But, that either means creating a bottleneck in the ankle again, or having a foot that’s 72 stitches around, which is too many (baggy-footed socks are not appealing). I think, what would be best, is this: Rather than decreasing six stitches at the ankle, simply divide the stitches so there are 36 on the heel flap and 30 on the instep; work an extra repeat of the heel pattern (although I’d be tempted to just work a regular slip-stitch heel) and deal with the extra stitches in the gusset decreases (I would decrease to 34 again, I think, because the foot fit well). Most of my problems with the sizing came as a result of the ankle/heel, so that’s where I would centre my changes.

All of this being said, if you like the look of these socks/this pattern, don’t be scared off. It was a wonderful mix of easy and interesting, and if you’ve never tried slip-stitch colourwork, it’s a great primer. It’s actually a good lesson for stranded colourwork in general, because it allows you to get used to the idea of maintaining floats while only having to manage one colour per row. Here’s the wrong-side of the work, where you can see the floats that run behind the slipped stitches.

I think the pattern on the inside is kind of pretty, actually.

All in all, it’s a good pattern and I’m sure I’ll knit it again (truly, the colour combinations are endless!). I’ve ravelled it here, if you’re into that sort of thing.

Easter write-through

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My plans for Easter weekend ended up being all jumbled, and I wasn’t entirely sure it was going to work out at all. First, I was planning to go away with L to spend the weekend with his family. But, then I had to work on Friday and he had a meeting on Monday morning, so it didn’t seem worth it for me to drive all that way for a night. Then, my sister and her friend were going to come for the weekend, but due to her thesis work, Jenny decided to just come for Saturday. And just like that, my entire Sunday was wide open.

I haven’t had a whole day to just myself in a long time, and even though I didn’t think I wanted it, it turned out to be awesome. I baked. I knit (my Happy-Go-Lucky socks are done! More later). And, best of all, I went on a solo bike ride all around the fancy neighbourhoods north of our place (this was all the nicer after my mum called to tell me it snowed in Nova Scotia on Saturday night).

Man oh man, what a gorgeous day.

Trees are in blossom all over the place.

I love the way the brightness of new leaves pops. This may be my favourite colour.

See what I mean? Gorgeous.

Bicycle!

Yes yes. Sometimes you just need a day to yourself.

Reset

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This is basically how last week felt (well, at least how the end of last week felt):

A hilarious (and, perhaps random?) Etsy error page. I love the frowning ball of yarn.

No, no, I did not completely destroy my sweater (this sort of mistake would imply that I was knitting arms, while I am still circling around the waist) or any other knitting, but you know that feeling you get when you’re knitting along and suddenly realize that somewhere along the line you dropped/picked up a stitch, or moved your chart one stitch to the left, or whatever, and you’re faced with having to tink back for (potentially) hours and redo it? And then you just wonder how you didn’t notice sooner? Well yeah. I had a weird week.

But today it’s Easter Sunday and I have the house to myself (well, myself and Ganymede) and there isn’t anywhere I have to go, or any timeline for the things I have to do, and I am excited. It’s a gorgeous day (high of 16) and I have all the ingredients for hot cross buns (I can just squeak them in under the Easter wire) and I have a sock to knit and a bicycle to take for a spin. I am officially resetting myself for the week ahead, and whatever you’re up to today I wish you something just as wonderful.

Happy Easter and Happy Sunday.

Cat walking

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I have been a very bad blogger this week, but I blame that mostly on the fact that my knitting looks more or less that same as it did last week, we’ve been eating out, and Ganymede has taken up a lot of time. Basically, I’m having a cat dilemma, and it goes like this: should we take our indoor cat on walks? I know that to the untrained eye this sounds silly, but seriously, the weather has been pretty nice in Toronto lately and Ganymede spends a lot of her time in the windows. We also took her out a few times in the fall, but then L left her leash in a friend’s car and we didn’t get it back until last week, when I made the (potential) mistake of taking her on an unsolicited walk. It was a nice day, I didn’t have to work, and she seemed happy. When L got home he was disappointed to have missed it, so we took her out again. She loved it.

The next day, though, the meowing started. Ganymede mostly make throaty purr-meow sorts of noises, so a full-on meow was unusual in and of itself. That it lasted for several hours and turned into a plaintive, miserable meowal was more than I could take, so out we went again. That was Thursday. On Friday, L was holding the door open for a friend and Ganymede got bold; she ran out the door. Just like that. Out the door and into the hallway and up the stairs (we live in an apartment, albeit one in a small building, so our front door doesn’t lead directly to freedom, which is ironically a contributing factor to why she isn’t an outdoor cat to begin with, but I digress). He got her back in without too much trouble. On Saturday, the meowling was again too much for me to handle, so out we went. Sunday was miserable, so there was no way we were walking. On Monday I took her out for a half hour and it looked like this:

Ooh. A tree.

Wait, you're holding the leash too tightly for me to climb this. What the heck?

To get back at you, I will roll on the ground, getting as dirty as possible before you inevitably drag me back inside.

That walk was excellent. Lets do it again after my nap.

We got back in and she immediately started crying and scratching at the door. Since then, we haven’t taken her out once (we’ve both been busier and less at home than usual) and, against all odds, her crying has more or less gone away. I attribute at least some of this to the fact that I’ve been giving her a lot of extra playtime and cuddling. Maybe the meows were attention seeking? Anyway, we’re now wondering if taking her out is a cruel tease, and it’s easier for her to deal with being an indoor cat if she remains indoors. Still, as people who both grew up with outdoor cats, it’s tough.

Have you had to deal with this? What did you do? She looks really cute in her collar and leash and seems happy outside, but the indoor meowing is killing my nerves, and selfishly, it’s easier not to deal with it at all. Am I terrible?