Frankinsocks

I love knitting socks. There's nothing for me that is so satisfying as working on a project that is portable, represents a relatively short-term commitment, and will most likely fit somebody in the end. So I knit socks to take the edge off my longer-term projects and to have something to do when I'm in a waiting room. They bless my hands with useful activity and then they bless my feet with soft, warm goodness.

Enter the Noro sock yarn. I confess that I have had an abiding curiosity about this yarn ever since it was first introduced by a member of my knitting group at our annual retreat two years ago. It was passed around, examined, and fondled, and then pretty much universally condemned. Its single-ply nature suggests a lack of durability, it has a scratchy feel, a thick and thin inconsistent twist, there is the occasional vegetable matter poking out. But it is just so stinkin' beautiful. The colors are so vivid and the way they gradually blend into one another just screams out that it would be a satisfying knit despite all the drawbacks.

Speaking of drawbacks, did I mention the price?

So when I was given a gift certificate to my LYS, I knew just what to do with it. I had "found" money. I could use it to buy what I wanted with no regrets if it turned out badly. I went straight to the Kureyon display and bought a skein.

I have to say, it does make for a satisfying knit. The gradual color-shifting makes it downright addictive. You have to knit just one more row, just to see what's going to happen next. I decided to try my hand at entrelac for the first time and chose this pattern by Eunny Jang: http://www.interweaveknits.com/preview/2007_spring.asp

Since it was my first attempt at entrelac, I decided to not to use a contrast yarn, and figured that the Noro had enough color-shifting going on to make these interesting.

My first disappointment was the way the yarn feels as you work with it. It slides through your hands like butcher's twine. I actually had a red, raw mark on my finger after knitting for a few hours. I'm told that this yarn will soften a bit after being washed, but it would have to soften a bit more than "a bit" to make these comfortable. I'm reserving judgment until after blocking.

My second disappointment came after knitting the toe, when I found a knot in the skein. Having no experience with Noro, I failed to recognize the significance of that knot. That knot not only broke up my knitting rhythm, but it smashed the rhythm of the colors, forcing a shocking jump between burnt orange to royal blue. Now, not only is the gradual color shift disrupted, but the only way for me to end up with a matching pair of socks would be to make the same break on my second sock to duplicate the effect which I find really jolting and unattractive.

My third disappointment was that I find these socks really ugly. Absolutely hideous. I imagined this to be an interesting and fanciful use for this yarn, but in the end it just did not lend itself to the pattern. Perhaps if that darned knot hadn't been there. I guess I should have thrown out that toe and started over, and I'll know better for next time. Not that there'll be a next time. I've had my Noro experience, and for me, once was enough. I'll complete this pair of socks and call them "art socks". But I'll probably never wear them, and I'll probably never knit with Noro sock yarn again.

In other news, I did finish my "Queen of Beads Redux" socks and I love them enough to make up for the Frankinsocks.

Ahhhh...

And this is Wally, helping me work.

Queen of Beads Redux

Every time I start a new sock pattern, my Future Ex-Boyfriend (FEXB), tells me that this one is the prettiest sock I've ever knit. I've knit quite a few socks, but this time I think he may actually have it right. This may be my favorite sock ever.

It is the Queen of Beads pattern from the January 2009 Blue Moon Fiber Arts Rockin' Sock Club made with Knit Picks Essential Kettle Dyed Sock Yarn in the Eggplant color. I also used a slightly larger bead than those included in the January kit (I think these are e-size beads). I stopped the beads when I got to the instep to allow the comfortable wearing of shoes, and improvised a diamond pattern down to the toe.

And may I say the combination is magical. I love the way the beads stand out like frozen dew drops on wild grapes.

I finished the RSC kit and then was faced with the reality of long empty months before the next installment. I decided to make the fun last even longer by knitting a second pair, one pair to keep, one to give away. Perfect.

And I'm throwing in some non-knitting related shots of my backyard taken at twilight a week ago.

Spring is coming! I can see it in the evening sky...

Little Feet

I think that even the most mundane items are cute in miniature. I recently knit my first pair of toe-up socks and it finally clicked that socks, at least plain un-patterned socks, are pretty formulaic. Since I had some left-over sock yarn I was inspired to just pick up some needles, cast on, and see if I could knit a tiny sock on the fly.

I used size 00 needles and about 3 grams of sock yarn (about 15 yds).

1. Cast on an even number of stitches, preferably divisible by 4 (since I like to use 4 needles, this works best for me - use your own judgment). I used this awesome cast-on from Knitty - Magic cast-on for toe-up socks. This leaves you with a nice smooth toe that looks like it was perfectly grafted, and with some practice is pretty easy to do. I double-up my needles to add a little "give" when I'm using this cast-on, since the first round can be a little awkward.
   

   

2. Setup row: follow the Magic cast-on directions and knit the stitches on needle 1 and needle 2.

   

3. Divide the stitches onto 4 needles for the first increase round. In my case, that's 2 stitches per needle.
   

   

4. Needle 1: k1, Inc 1 in next st, k to end of Needle 1. Needle 2: k until 2 sts remain on left needle. Inc 1 in next st, k1. Needle 3: k1, Inc 1 in next st, k to end of needle 3. Needle 4: k until 2 sts remain on left needle. Inc 1 in next st, k1.
   
5. K 1 row even.
   
6. Repeat the previous 2 steps until you have the desired number of stitches. I like to go with a multiple of 4 so the stitches divide evenly onto my needles. In my case, I cast on 8 stitches, so I'm going to increase until I have 24 stitches (6 per needle). If I had cast on 12 stitches, I would increase until I had 32 stitches. Just use your judgment and stop increasing when the toe looks good to you.
   

   

7. K in the round for about 20 rows, or until you are happy with the length of the foot.
   

   

8. Heel Shaping: Move the 6 st from needle 2 to needle 1 and set needle 2 aside. You will now work on 3 needles, with 12 st on Needle 1 and 6 st each on needles 3 and 4. You will be working back and forth on needle 1 only for the heel shaping. K to 1 st before end of needle 1 , turn, YO and p to 1 st before start of needle 1.
   
9. Turn, YO and k to 1 st before YO from previous row.
   
10. Turn, YO and p to 1 st before YO from previous row.
    
11. Repeat the previous 2 steps until 4 st remain (RS row). K to first YO.
    

    

12. Ssk, turn, sl first st, p to first YO on WS.
    
13. P2tog, turn, sl first st, k to first YO on RS.
    
14. Repeat the previous 2 steps until all heel stitches have been worked.
    
15. Attach Heel to Foot : Redistribute stitches on needle 1 to return to working with 4 needles (6 sts on each needle). K 1 row, picking up 1 st between the heel and the foot stitches at the end of needle2 and the end of needle 4. This will close the gap between the heel and foot stitches. K 1 round even (14 sts).
    
16. On the next round, k across needle 1, k to 2 sts before end of needle 2, k2tog, k across needle 3, k to 2 sts before end of needle 4, ssk. (12 sts).
    

    

17. K in the round for about 15 rows, or until you are happy with the length of the leg.
    

18. Ribbing: Work about 5 rows of k1, p1 ribbing and bind off loosely in pattern.

    

    You can use an i-cord to connect 2 mini-socks and hang them over your rear-view mirror, or you can attach an i-cord loop to make a really cute key chain, ornament, or gift wrap embellishment. Who wouldn't love a gift of hand-made socks with a little matching key chain?
    

    

    Seriously, how cute is that?
    

    

But why WILL you say that I am mad?

2/6/2009, 5:00 PM

I have at least twenty projects on my needles right now. Every new project started the same way: the first glance, the building excitement, the planning, shopping, swatching, and the thrill of the cast on. So why is it so easy to abandon something that was so enthralling in the beginning? For me the death knell usually sounds when I realize I made a mistake fifteen rows back, or that I could or should have done something in a different, better way.

I'm just not emotionally equipped to calmly rip and tink back to the offending section for a redo. I'm much more inclined to move on to the next pattern that caught my fancy (probably long before I finished casting on the now-abandoned project). Is it lack of discipline, fear of failure, an obsessive compulsive need to be perfect from the first row? I recognize that I have a problem.

At least I THOUGHT I recognized that I have a problem. Apparently not. See the "Best Of Show Socks" from the SOCKS . SOCKS . SOCKS XRX book. If I wasn't rip-roaring insane before I started these (emphasis on the rip), I will be if when I finish them.

This is my idea of extreme knitting. Three colors in every round. Many, many opportunities to mess up the pattern. Lots and lots of floats to pull too tight or leave too loose, that taunt me twelve rows too late. The only thing that could be worse is if I elected to take these on as my Knitting Olympics project.

The pattern is lovely and well written. I was entranced by the stark beauty of the neutral colors playfully pitting the dark against the light.

And apparently, I'm just delusional enough to think that I could overcome my many issues to take these on. It's been five weeks, four cast on's, three total frogs, and seventeen tinks. Thanks to my under-estimation of the pattern complexity, over-estimation of my abilities, and the certainty that I am clever enough to modify the pattern on the fly, all I have to show is one half of one sock.

It is a personal triumph that I have not abandoned this project, and it is a tribute to the designer for creating something so beautiful that I HAVE to see these through to the end. The bitter end.

Did I mention that I think I'm going to run out of yarn somewhere around the toe decrease on the second sock?