This always seems to happen. Just when I think I am fed up with my knitting, just when I am about to conclude that a stash composed primarily (by weight, if not by volume) of my husband's grandmother's acrylic worsted from the Seventies is completely uninspiring, it happens. On the heels of a finishitis victory over Second Sock Syndrome of legendary proportions, it happens.
I've been charmed to such an extent that I have now beaten my old record for "number of new cast ons in 24 hours." To knitters of dedication, passion, and skill, the number is ridiculously low to be a "record" for me. But however desultory I may be as a knitter, I tend to cast on new projects in a slow-ish but steady stream, mostly hopping between projects I already have on the needles. In the last 24 hours, I have cast on three projects. One of them twice. Two of them (to my shame...will I never learn?) socks. I know. I know. A grand total of 710 stitches cast on, if one includes the second run at Birch.
Each of the three projects begged to be cast on in a different way and for different reasons. After Second Sock Stravaganza, I spoke of a victory project of luxe yarn and awesome proportions. I found it in Birch, a Rowan pattern from #34 I think, out of Rowan Kid Silk Haze. Dreams of glory flitted through my head as I cast on, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it can float around my shoulders at this wedding my mother has requested I join her for next weekend. No way is this going to happen unless the long weekend provides far far far more knitting time than I figure it will. Crack Silk Haze is so far charming me because I'm knitting it in UltraFocus mode, knowing that any mistake is going to be a far bigger pain than it would be in any other yarn. It will be lovely. It's the newest love of my knitterly life.
With that on the brain, why socks? Why two? The first is the third RSC pair, made from the most gorgeous colorway of the year so far. I want to take the little yarncake, love it, squeeze it, and call it George. It's so beautiful I barely want to knit it up. What spurred me to cast on right now is the idea that all three pairs could be done before the fourth RSC package arrives at the end of July. The idea of being ahead of the game and ready to cast on #4 instantly is powerful juju. The second was cast on purely because my previous pair of plain, no frills stockinette socks is done, and I need a project to grab and take with me. Birch requires UltraFocus, so she stays home. The socks, particularly the plain ones, take care of time at work while I'm on the phone, when I need a little motivation (one row on the sock for every so many tasks completed...), that type of thing. See? SEE? The method behind my madness is beautiful and clear.
I promise that I am aware that a self-respecting knitting blog requires pictures. Pictures prove (sort of ) to the (nonexistent) readers out there that I do in fact create items of beauty, worth, merit, or supreme ugliness. Without them, I might just as easily be lying bold as brass to all zero of you. Pictures will follow whenever I can begin the habit of getting pictures off of my danged camera less than a year or two after I take them. On the upside, I have started the thrilling new habit of taking my new knits out for "official photoshoots" upon finishing. Part of the problem, I suspect, is that three of the five projects I've mentioned are from the Rockin' Sock Club, and are therefore unbloggable at present. So, there you go.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Conqueror of Second Sock Syndrome
Today I achieved a momentous day in my knitting career. So momentous, in fact, that I had to open a blog just to tell the world about it. I have summarily conquered Second Sock Syndrome. How did I do this, you may ask, oh nonexistent reader? Read on, my friend, read on...
Three weeks ago, I found myself at the business end of a bit of a knitter's nightmare. A pair of socks that had been commissioned from me were complete, but three socks sat before me, all unpaired for various reasons. One I miscalculated how much Koigu KPPPM it would take to make a pair, ending up with a single sock and far too little to make her mate, at which point the universe decided that the colorway needed to vanish from my immediate environs and the number of the colorway needed to vanish from my memory. By the time more was obtained, the sock had sat around pairless for too long. The second loner was from the Socks that Rock Rockin' Sock Club (sorry, no pics allowed...) in a pattern that ended up being more fiddly than I expected. No, scratch that...it was an epic stranded colorwork battle that I barely survived, being something of a noob to stranded colorwork. Worse yet, I made them in the smallest size, knowing that I was planning on giving them away to a friend with tiny feet. A pair of socks that epic with no hope of wearing them gleefully at the end? Please, child. I would rather get stabbed with a rusty DPN than cast on #2. The third was my friend, another RSC pattern that charmed the absolute snot out of me, with the first sock newly finished.
At this point, I made a resolution: it was time for Second Sock Stravaganza. I would not take any other project seriously until three second socks were made, done, gone. Upon completion, a project that (for the love of Gawd) would not be a sock would be selected and made purely to proclaim my victory. No absolute deadline was made, but an informal deal with myself was witnessed by my husband who would be annoyed daily by running commentary on my status. It was in his best interest to bug me to get the things done.
The plan was simple, though in retrospect quite backwards. I would pick up momentum by completing That Pair I Loved. I'd whip through plain-stockinette Koigu, and finally have the wherewithal to attempt Mount FairIsle. If I had been smart, I would have conquered the mountain first before coasting to victory on the other two, but that would have required brains.
After an epic uphill climb involving significant amounts of knitting while reading laboratory policies and procedures at work, I stand before you today with two new pairs of socks for myself and one for a friend that kind of looked like a colorwork version of a man's anatomy while I was knitting the heel. Seriously.
Next: Birch, a lace mohair shawl. Not a sock. Not even remotely close. To Victory!!!!!!
Three weeks ago, I found myself at the business end of a bit of a knitter's nightmare. A pair of socks that had been commissioned from me were complete, but three socks sat before me, all unpaired for various reasons. One I miscalculated how much Koigu KPPPM it would take to make a pair, ending up with a single sock and far too little to make her mate, at which point the universe decided that the colorway needed to vanish from my immediate environs and the number of the colorway needed to vanish from my memory. By the time more was obtained, the sock had sat around pairless for too long. The second loner was from the Socks that Rock Rockin' Sock Club (sorry, no pics allowed...) in a pattern that ended up being more fiddly than I expected. No, scratch that...it was an epic stranded colorwork battle that I barely survived, being something of a noob to stranded colorwork. Worse yet, I made them in the smallest size, knowing that I was planning on giving them away to a friend with tiny feet. A pair of socks that epic with no hope of wearing them gleefully at the end? Please, child. I would rather get stabbed with a rusty DPN than cast on #2. The third was my friend, another RSC pattern that charmed the absolute snot out of me, with the first sock newly finished.
At this point, I made a resolution: it was time for Second Sock Stravaganza. I would not take any other project seriously until three second socks were made, done, gone. Upon completion, a project that (for the love of Gawd) would not be a sock would be selected and made purely to proclaim my victory. No absolute deadline was made, but an informal deal with myself was witnessed by my husband who would be annoyed daily by running commentary on my status. It was in his best interest to bug me to get the things done.
The plan was simple, though in retrospect quite backwards. I would pick up momentum by completing That Pair I Loved. I'd whip through plain-stockinette Koigu, and finally have the wherewithal to attempt Mount FairIsle. If I had been smart, I would have conquered the mountain first before coasting to victory on the other two, but that would have required brains.
After an epic uphill climb involving significant amounts of knitting while reading laboratory policies and procedures at work, I stand before you today with two new pairs of socks for myself and one for a friend that kind of looked like a colorwork version of a man's anatomy while I was knitting the heel. Seriously.
Next: Birch, a lace mohair shawl. Not a sock. Not even remotely close. To Victory!!!!!!
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