There will be tassel...

...tomorrow.

For now, I am here to tell you that from now on, I will be posting at http://www.dittenknitten.blogspot.com.

That is, if I can get this blogger stuff worked out. Hahaha.

my blog is the clown car of the knitting world

I wandered away from the thrummed mittens for a bit, in order to participate in some knitting... not fiascos, not adventures, not abominations. What, then? Well, situations.

Situation 1: Crusoe socks: in which I learn that tennis ball green + reddish purple are not really my colors.



This is some long-stashed Sunshine Yarns Soft Sock in Dragonfly. For Crusoe, I scoffed openly (scoff scoff scoff) at the idea that a 48-stitch cast on would be in any way relevant to my foot. I picked up some 2.25mms and cast on 72. And that worked out well, because this yarn is thin. So thin that while I was still working on the gussets, I decided rather grumpily that with a thicker yarn I'd be to the toe by now. But I am forging ahead, and generally like how these are coming along.

Situation 2: That Stocking Cap I Mentioned Before: I run out of yarn and follow the pattern directions way past the time that I decide that the pattern directions are not giving me what I want in terms of this particular Stocking Cap.



Actually, my capsule summary pretty much says it all. I bought more yarn -- the store had a big old pile of it, even though I'd gotten it months ago. Months ago on sale at half off, actually, so I got the honor of paying over $20 for a skein, which did not feel so great, but I do like the yarn more than I thought I would. Knit up it got a bit quieter than it seemed in the hank, and the second skein (of exactly the same dyelot) is somehow softer than the first.

As for the problem with the directions not giving me what I wanted: I frogged and re-knit.

I finished the knitting a bit ago, so now it is time for me to get my tassel on. The tassel is, in my opinion, the best part.

Situation 3: Felici Arugula Stockinette Socks, most of which I knit in the total dark and which, being 72 sts on size 0s actually are probably a bit too small but hell if I'm going to rip an entire cuff knit in the dark.



Situation 4: Fingerless Thrummed Mitts, which, it being above 50F so consistently these days, I haven't even given a thought to. Well, no, actually, I'm about to the thumb of mitt #2. Making thrums has gotten a bit old. But, these are a nice antidote to Crusoe, because a few rows of knitting actually do make a difference in how it looks. I need near-constant positive reinforcement, apparently.

If I am being good, my next post will not be about the Way Easy Legwarmers (or whatever they're called - from LMKG) and Thraven Pomatomi I've just cast on. At least not unless I've got some finished tassel to show you...

Thrummed Mitts Progress Report; or, How Many Pins Did They Use to Set Your Arm?

The temperature today was 7. Degrees Fahrenheit. I could REALLY have used some thrummed fingerless mitts when taking the dogs out and scraping off my car this morning, but have only finished one, and haven't even woven in the ends on that yet, and even I was not ready to take that fashion plunge.

I started off, as Ravelry would give the impression most people do, making the thrums too large.

Here's a crappy in-progress by-lamplight shot, on the assumption that poorly lit pictures are slightly better than no pictures at all:



Not really understanding the instructions for how to place a thrum that came with the kit, I relied on the Yarn Harlot's excellent FAQ (linked in the last post). She says you should knit through the back loop of the thrum and the stitch it was placed with on the next round, so I did. Unfortunately, as I am finding with the one-row scarf (which I just realized is hers as well - what is it with the YH and those ktbl-s?), when I ktbl, the left side of the resulting stitch sits there all bloated and bulky, while the right side fades away. With enough yanking, I can kind of even them out, but it is not pretty.

To get back to the too-large thrums thing, I eased off of them a bit once I ran out of the ones I had industriously made before starting. I wasn't increasing the number of stitches nearly as drastically as the pattern called for (which happens in accordance with the thumb, which I was needing to be a little tighter because with the top open, I would only be placing thrums near the bottom, as I did not relish the idea of creating some kind of thumb-sized sockyarn flap, hoo boy is this a long digression) um, so, laying off on the thrums and keeping about the same number of stitches as the cuff should, I hope, allow for blood circulation to my fingers. Which is right up there with being swathed in roving for keeping them warm.

I hereby apologize for that paragraph. And I'm not even done yet.

So ANYWAY, the too-large thrums at the bottom of the mitt, plus the nice, gentle pastel palate, kind of gives the impression that my entire hand is in a cast.

About once a year, a freshman guy walks into his English classroom with a hand wrapped up in tape and maybe plaster, after having put his fist through some plate glass as the culmination of a fight or at least confrontation concerning either a woman or a guitar. Sometimes both. With these mitts, I will be rocking the "I got drunk and put my fist through a plate glass window at about 4am last night" look.

Not any of this is to say that I'm not completely in love with these mittens. I love them. The one that's done is so freaking warm. And soft. And pretty, if medical-looking.

To my surprise, 4 rounds past the last thrum plus a bindoff row was enough to keep the thrums from spilling out the top of the mitt, so I can stop fretting about which sockyarn to pillage for a flap on the inside. Now if I can just go back to knitting on them rather than writing about them for pages...

A spinner I am not.

So, after some involved and self-centered calculus, I have determined that the answer to one small problem of mine (namely, freeeezing hands in the morning as I'm trying to make my car legally drivable) is: Fingerless Thrummed Mittens.

Stay with me here.

My Hurry Up Spring armwarmers are the right shape - long enough over the hand to protect from snow, short enough to offer dexterity required for car scraping, key using, and putting on the second mitt - but wind cuts right through them. Also the right one tends to stretch out of shape pretty quickly. Also Noro Kureyon doesn't belong right next to skin.

Clearly, the answer is something more substantial. While I love the idea of mitts in sock yarn, I can't imagine that sock yarn is thick enough to really block out the cold. I also have a very nice pair of fleece mittens that, due to the elastic around the wrist, will never be put-on-able enough to be comfortable. And I haven't ever met a pair of straight-up gloves that were warm enough.

Enter Fleece Artist Thrummed Mitten Kit in Wildflower:



My reasoning is that ridiculously warm mittens - tops = warm enough fingerless mitts.

I'm not a spinner, and though I know the words that go along with spinning, like fleece, and top, and roving, and carding, and spinning wheel, and drop spindle, and ply, and etc, I do not really have a true understanding of what those things mean. I smile and nod politely and even admire the beautiful colors of all the objects that fall under the aforementioned words for pre-yarn, but really I'm just waiting for the conversation to turn back to knitting.

Though I've contemplated buying some of the stuff before, this is my first time dealing with roving at all, and I started off being a bit suspicious of it. It seemed so delicate at first. Then, following the Yarn Harlot's FAQ, I tried to simply pull a bit off. Hahaha. If this is the strength it will take to make thrums, screw the thrummed fingerless mitts, I'll just carry my car to work, I thought.

Then I remembered that adage (or is it more like a law of physics?) that it's easier to break single sticks ten times than it is to break ten sticks all together. So I kind of spread the roving out and completely stopped caring how much came off at a time. Much better.



So, my tentative plan for the pattern for these (by which I mean, barring a better idea) is to do about 2" of ribbing instead of an open cuff at the bottom, because I'll be able to put them on easily. Then I'll knit and place thrums up until I reach about the top of my pinky finger. I'm not sure yet how I'll finish the tops up; right now I'm considering a flap of sock yarn on the inside to prevent the thrums from spilling out over the fingers. Not sure how/if to tack that down yet.

I'm off of work tomorrow and they're predicting 20 degree highs for the next week, so I will be working hard on these.

wo0t, 100 posts!

I hope your midwinter gift-exchange holiday was as frickin sweet as mine was.

yarn yarn a thousand times yarn

It's been awhile since I've written about a specific instance in which I was an idiot, and hey - the topic happens to have presented itself again, so what the heck.

About a year ago (I think - I can't find it again), I was reading KnitSpot and saw the red stocking cap that she'd knit out of her own handspun, and it immediately went into my queue, the pre-Ravelry one in my head. If anything could make me take up handspinning, it would be seeing things like that. She mentioned (maybe in the next post) that it was being test-knit and would go into her pattern shop. I bought yarn for it oh, nine months ago and have been waiting oh-so-patiently to buy the pattern. About once a month I'd consider e-mailing her to ask when it was going to go up, and with the glut of Christmas knitting my future project planning is going full blast, so I decided I wanted to cast on for it right when I finished all this other stuff.

(I basically only have one hat. It's black (coronet in Debbie Bliss Cashmerino aran) and I really like it, but really, a knitter should have more than one hat.)

So, finally I got around to finding her e-mail address and composing the inquiry, when I came across the link to her pattern shop. Where I immediately found the the pattern for the stocking cap.

So I guess whenever Knitty publishes Shedir and Elizabeth Zimmerman comes out with Ganomy, I'll be ready to go.

knit knit knit blah blah blah

Unoriginal hat is done and given:



I did the old bait 'n switch when I gave it to her - she knows I'm making the house beret for her (she requested it, picked out the colors, and approved the yarn), and was expecting that to be her birthday gift. I had to explain what the colorway was (see "bonus matching accessories," below) but the color does look a bit different in the chunky yarn. We immediately marched upstairs and did a preliminary try-on with her scarf, and it matches well enough to wear them together.

So I'm counting that one a success. My Mom is the world's single best receiver of knit objects and other handcrafted gifts - she wore it for most of the day.

Oh hai

With application season in full swing, classes (well, class) winding down, and knitting deadlines looming and then passing unmet, the knitblogging has fallen by the wayside. But it's not all panic attacks and final projects at chez orooni; there has been some knitting, too.

There have been FOs:



Hoofle Foofle Uptown Boot Socks - I didn't run out of yarn, yay!





Dragonfly Seasilk Montego Bay Scarf - ready to block and give by the slightly modified deadline of tomorrow. (ETA: is now blocking.) I'd suspected when I finished the first one that I hate making braided fringe. This confirms it. However, I love how it looks, so there's likely more braided fringe in my future, grumble grumble.

Can I also say how much I love the combination of pattern and yarn? The seasilk doesn't roll past the 3 or 4 stitch stockinette edges at all. Whereas regular fingering-weight is all like AAAHHHH why am I shaped this way?!?!, seasilk just lounges on the chaise, all like Dahling, I don't want to move to the verahnda... let's just stay here, shaaall we?. And then collapses in a faint.

There have been Started Os:



House Beret in Ravenclaw colors - a Christmas gift for my Mom. She requested it and approved the yarn (by which I mean I practically had to do that thing where you pry each finger off the skein individually to get it back - it's Malabrigo worsted weight), but she won't see it again until its been fully hatified.



Unoriginal Hat in Titania, a birthday gift for my Mom. This will be a surprise -- she's making a chevron scarf in Titania and Midsummer's Night, and she's working really hard on it and it's gorgeous. Nothin says happy birthday like bonus matching accessories, right?

And, finally, there have been knitting fugues:



which is to say, I have no idea where this 60 stitch 3x1 rib cuff in MW Corvid STR came from. Uh, or the identical one on bamboo needles, either. With all the mandatory deadline knitting going on, I could not possibly have cast on a mindless no-deadline project for myself. Bizarre.

The second you stop worring about running out of sockyarn...

...is about 10 seconds before you run out of sockyarn. In the grander, more general sense, I am not out of sockyarn. Nowhere near. In the specific sense of the two pairs of socks on the needles, I am very much in danger of being out of sockyarn. I've probably made more than a dozen pairs of socks, and each time have had copious amounts of yarn left. With the first two pairs of STR socks I've made, I've been very careful to guess on the conservative side for yardage, and those turned out fine. So I guess that means throwing caution to the wind and not thinking about yardage at all. Good plan.

The Hoofle Foofle (yellow STR Mediumweight) I think I might actually be okay on, though it will be close. The black sock (Earl Gray, because black shows cables so well (Doh)), I will almost certainly run out of yarn for. Because that one's a gift on a timetable, of course. I have some more Risata in burgundy that I could easily use for the toes, but the larger problem here is that I've likely used so much yarn at this point because, as with Cascade Fixation, I knit the beginning of the sock WAY too loose to compensate, subconsciously, for the stretchiness of the yarn. And I can't really ask Other to try it on because it's supposed to be a kind-of surprise. (I mean, he probably noticed when I tied a bunch of the yarn around his wrist as an allergy test, he's observant that way, but there could at least be a big reveal, right?) So I guess the plan is to wait until I run out of yarn, then give in and have him try it on. Probably the cuff will be way too loose and the foot will be tight enough to cut off circulation. Merry Christmas, Other! Sorry I tried to maim you!

effed oh, calico

Yarn: Socks that Rock, Lightweight
Colorway: Calico
Pattern: plain stockinette, shortrow heel
Needles: Crystal Palace Bamboo, 2.25mm

LOVE! Socks that Rock has lived up to the hype - there's no halo that needs to be repeatedly maneuvered out of the joints of my toes, and it turns out I vastly prefer that. They're very warm and clearly durable. Yay. I have some Metamorphic in the medium weight that will probably be cast on soon for more plain socks.



However, I actually should probably not cast on anything else until one of the four not-insignificant and immediately pressing projects gets done. Which leads us to a question: Am I insane to think I might be able to knit my mom a pair of Clessidras before Christmas? When I don't technically have the yarn yet? And when I need to get a Montego Bay Scarf* done by Dec. 5, and a HP house scarf also done by the 25th? As well as another pair of socks? Hmm? Yeah, that's probably insane. Sigh.



*

Dreidel vs. Pomatomus

Yarn: Socks that Rock - Lightweight
Colorway: Dreidel
Pattern: Pomatomus
Needles: Knit Picks 2.75mm metal
Modifications: Knit the stitches constituting last half-scallops instead of working them in pattern, so that the pattern appeared to bleed into the toe



While knitting the first one of these, I had high hopes that the second one would come out spiraling and pooling in the same way. By the time I was done with the first one, it wasn't even spiraling and pooling in the same way as itself, so I decided to be happy if the second one didn't turn out red.

The fit of the pattern is wonderful, the yarn itself is nice to work with, and soft and warm on my feet.

The, ah, problem if we want to frame it that way comes in with this specific combination of colorway and pattern. Dreidel is powerful. Lots of light vs. dark, yellow vs. blue turmoil going on here already. Pomatomus is a hungry up-and-comer, and its twisted stitches, yarn overs, and non-rectangular pattern repeats give Dreidel a pretty good thrashing. Dreidel wins, in the end, but neither leaves the ring looking good.



By the time I realized that this wasn't going to work very well, I was already pretty invested in it, too invested to frog. When this pattern came out whatever winter that was, I looked at it and thought, pshaw, who the hell would ever want to do something so complicated? Why spend a year on a pair of socks? So I'm pretty proud of their existence, if not exactly their appearance.

Grrr, Blogger's still not getting along with my server. Maybe I can add the pictures later.

Like a stuck pig.

Wash One:



Wash Two:



Wash Three:



Having noticed that my Uptown Boot Socks had turned my toes the tiniest bit green, I decided to give them a quick dip in some lukewarm water and dish soap before tossing them into the laundry with every other pair of socks I've ever handknit, just about. And hey - that was a good decision.

They don't look all that faded, but then again they're not completely dry yet. I was surprised at how dark the color was compared to how it looked on the Lisa Souza site, but maybe it'll be about where I was expecting now.

I am knitting on the same stuff I have been. Knit knit knit. Maybe one day I will finish something. And then I will show it to you.

and I can read the warning label on that can of crazy

This is where the sweater stands:



The yarn is what's called for in the pattern: Naturally Harmony 10-ply. And, if it weren't right there in the name, I'd have no idea this is a 10-ply - it feels as though it's felted. Not at all what I was expecting, but it's nice and light, sproingy, and not splitty at all. I think I'm about ready to start the part of the pattern with cables, and have temporarily abandoned this to tend to the roving bands of socks stalking the house. And re-find the issue of IK that the pattern's printed in.

My goal is always to have several socks at different stages of completion, so I can pick things up to fit the time I have. In reality, I end up places like here:



Start-o-rama = graftastic. I like grafting, though, so it's okay. I grafted (graft? grift? Wha?) these three toes today, and started each pair's mate. Also started the Tanzanite Silkie Uptown Boot sock for Mom, which is just ribbing at this point. Here's the Tanzanite, though:



The silk strand stands out more than I'd envisioned, but I like how it's knitting up just fine.

And to get philosophical about socks for a second, I've been thinking about toes recently. And realizing, now that I'm wearing these socks I knit up over the summer on a regular basis, that I don't really like the typical toe. It's pointy, and my feet are so not pointy - or, rather, the pointy part is not in the middle. I've taken to starting the decreases later and then leaving more stitches to graft (14 or so), but even that isn't really the shape of my foot. I think I'll try the short-row toe soon, but even that gives the same basic shape.

What my brain keeps veering toward is the idea that my feet are not identical, so why should my socks be identical? Hence, why don't I make a Righty and Lefty sock?

I'm already a bit - specific, let's say - about my socks, in that the left one always goes on first. I considered it a big step when, after knitting my first pair, I was able to put one on the left foot and one on the right foot without checking to see which one had a smidge bigger blue stripe at the top, which meant it was knit second, which means it belongs on the right foot. (See how uncrazy?) So the knitting two different socks seems like it might be a step down that slippery slope.

How do your toes fit?

...in fact I may be smooshing it a little bit right now

Ho-kay, so, Dream in Color Smooshy*? Is freaking awesome. If I didn't have four (FOUR) socks on the needles - and not a one of them second socks, all first socks - I would be casting on some of this right now. Recently I've been finding myself more drawn to semi-solids - or perhaps I just mean unusually frustrated with variegateds - and both the November Muse and Giant Peach colorways have such a pleasant, gentle color variation. My general attitude is that life is too short for solid-colored socks, but the variegated yarns are probably actually making my life shorter at this point, so semisolids it is. (My head knows that there are some really good uses for solid-colored yarn, but my heart says zzzzzzzzz...)



Over the weekend I made some good progress on the OSU house scarf (while AT an actual sports bar with my parents, watching the Buckeyes win - if that's not injecting good karma into the scarf, I don't know what would). It looks about the same as it did.

*Oh nooo... as I was linking this, I saw they've added new colors. Chinatown Apple, I want you! Deep Seaflower and Beach Fog: will you be mine?

Socks that what? Socks that ROCK.

Oh, Socks that Rock. First I had no socks in you and now I have three socks in you. Perhaps I could use to learn some moderation.



Here we have Uptown Boot Sock #2. Or the beginning of Pair #2, so Sock #3. Hopefully soon you will be seeing some Uptown Boot Sock #5 and #6 action too, because I've got some Silkie Tanzanite winging its way here to become a Christmas gift for my Mom, who love-love-loves purple. I'm ready to turn the heel of #3, but didn't have the book with me today.

Here, in kind of a weird shot, is Dreidel Pomatomus. In repose.



Dreidel Pomatomus, aside from a minor setback in which I completely just did the pattern wrong on the row to pick up gusset stitches and then proceeded not to notice for five more rows (for I am smooth), is going well.

(The third is a plain stockinette sock in Calico, Awesomest Colorway Ever.)

My main knitting problem right now is that I don't have time to knit, despite carrying my projects with me wherever I go. Every morning in my sleepy haze, I imagine some freak scenario that will give me no possible way to actually work (as in "my job, the one that pays the money") and hours of time to knit. Like... I have no idea. But remember when those people got trapped in their cars for like 10 hours when it snowed in Pennsylvania last year? My first thought was like, damn, that's a sock right there.

I am being disciplined and working at least a couple rows of the Buckeye House Scarf a day, although it's not going to go traveling with me any time soon. If you've ever worked with Cascade 220 Superwash, you've probably learned that the balls really need to be re-wound, despite looking all pretty the way they come. I didn't re-wind, and the ball exploded into a tangle of almost-knots and loops in my project bag, and I'm coaxing a few feet at a time out of the angry yarn nucleus.

Oh, yes, and with Christmas coming up and me being a kindhearted, generous knitter and all, I've decided that the time has come...



...to attempt knit myself my first sweater.