I think I’ve worked out why the silk weft is becoming hairy after passing through the heddles. I didn’t stop to consider that the internal surfaces of the loops also might be roughened by mild corrosion. And there are *hundreds* of the bloody things. Bother. The best solution isn’t hairspray, it’s replacing the silk warp with something tougher and more abrasive to polish the heddles. Probably linen or hemp or something like that. The new bathroom is to be sage green and very pale warm grey (it already has a hand-polished wooden floor), which means the striped blue&white roman blind should be replaced… I could weave something, if I incorporated a design feature that allowed two or more strips to be joined (the window’s >24″ wide and although I could weave 48″ if I was very, very careful, I’d like something easy to restore my beginners’ confidence).

On the other hand knitting seems to be going well at the moment. I just want a) more time, and b) (ideally) a different body shape. I covet the Roundabout Leaf Tank and the Shell Tank from Knitting Nature but I strongly suspect I’m too short and square to look good in designs like that. Never mind, I’ll probably go for it anyway.

Next, or at least most urgent is a shower gift for my sister (K, if by chance you’ve found this blog, stop reading NOW!). The theme is ‘Hands & Feet’ (it’s to be held in a spa), so flushed with success at my first real socks I decided to knit a pair for her. This is Hipknits sock cashmere, shade Blueberry, pattern ‘Priscilla’s Dream Socks’ a download from Interweave Knits that I can’t find at the moment. I truly love my ‘Black Lagoon’ socks but I’m not sure lace is the best way to show off hand-dyed yarn *and* I needed an easy-to-size pattern as I can’t get her to try these for size as I go. I reserve judgement on the yarn; it somehow doesn’t feel quite as I was expecting (although I couldn’t say what I was expecting) and smells noticeably of the vinegar in its final bath (reminding me a little too strongly that I really should de-scale the kitchen sink), but it’s knitting up nicely and I can see the socks looking good with jeans. The old faded pale blue jeans of my youth, not the dark things youngsters wear these days… :-)

Also on the needles: that Handmaiden ‘Sea Silk’ in Ivory. I started swatching it for the Diamond Fantasy Shawl, but things just didn’t feel right even when I got gauge (WHY does the ‘u’ want to be in front of the ‘a’? Is it tired of being at the end of the Vowel lineup?). The large openings in the pattern meant the yarn wasn’t showing its subtle shimmering changes in shade to full advantage. I kept seeing the ‘Kimono Shawl’ from Folk Shawls every time I picked up the yarn; problem was, I had nothing like enough yarn for that. I bought it as a shawl kit online, 2 skeins of 500m. ‘Kimono’ needs 2000m of the suggested yarn. Bother, bother, dye lots… damn. OK. An invoice has returned home with its booty. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I’ve ordered an extra 1200m from Colorsong Yarns (it now comes in 400m skeins). Plan is to try to knit the ‘Kimono’ of my dreams by alternating rows from different skeins to even out differences between dyelots. If that works I will have a fabulous shawl and a little bit left over. If it doesn’t work then I have enough to make two smaller shawls or scarves… or, if I find this out quickly enough, I could buy more of the new dyelot. I’ll have no difficulty thinking of a recipient for anything made of this, assuming I can bear to part with it. I’ve already decided that if by any freak of chance I manage to finish something before The Wedding, then whatever it is is a gift for K. I don’t know what to hope for…

Yes, my secret identity has been revealed… I am the Creature from the Black Lagoon! Cower before me, puny mortals.
Sharon, Ed and Bob, our intrepid local news team, have travelled to Fossil Beach to bring this story to you, “Sharon, what can you tell us about this astonishing and unexpected occurrence?” “Well, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Locals tell us they’d known for some time that something unusual was about to happen. They were hoping for a rain of frogs [cut to Local saying “We like ’em deep-fried in a cracker crumb crust. I reckon we’d get a fair few meals off that ‘un, but I’m not volunteering to buy the crackers!”] but were not unduly surprised when this showed up at about 9pm last night. There’s general agreement that the situation could be worse [cut to Local cab driver “I had that Yog-Sothoth in the back of my cab once”], so we’re keeping a close eye on developments.”

Yes, those are my first-ever Serious Socks. Pattern is ‘Elfine’ by Anna Bell, a free download. Note that in the side view you can just about see the vertical k1P1 that brought me up short for about 30 minutes :-) Knitted in Fleece Artist ‘Sea Storm’ merino sock, sole on 2mm circ, lace on 2.5mm circ (pattern called for 2.25 all round). What have I learned? First and foremost , I loved knitting these socks. Small enough to be completed before they’re a chore, the perfect canvas for tiny, intricate patterns. I ‘m in bare feet whenever possible, so they’ve got a long life ahead of them. What else? I’m an EU37 (UK5.5/6), depending on the width. At 64st in circumference, these are almost too small. When I make this pattern again I’ll try increasing it to 68 or even 70 stitches, which last would allow me to make the lace continuous around the leg (it’s a 10st repeat). I cast off loosely with a 4mm needle; that too is almost too tight. More width would be good. But still I love these, my first socks. How much do I love them?
I bought a pair of sandals to show off my socks. I even argued nicely with the sales person who held that no one in their right mind wears sandals and socks. Give me a few weeks and I’ll change her mind!

Well, just a bit. The socks are progressing; the glitch was due to my assumption (life keeps trying to teach me not to make assumptions) that the lace pattern would repeat around the leg without a break, but there is a break, a K1P1 running up each side of the leg. A bit of research found the author’s design blog in which she comments that she’d found a problem but thought of a work-round: I think it’s the pattern break. I also found several images of finished socks, one of which shows the same break I’ve got. Another shows someone who may have given up on it: the lace continues up the front, but the sole stockinette runs all the way to the top of the leg at the back.
This morning I’m not thinking about knitting. I’m working, and wishing I was somewhere else, because on a day like this the landscape would look like this

but greener. That was taken in November looking WNW from Coire Mhic Fearchair on the northern slope of Beinn Eighe. Clockwise from left you see the dark slope of Carn na Feola (Beinn Dearg), then in the distance the shape of Baosbheinn, then Beinn an Eòin, then (closer) Beinn a Chearcaill. Google Earth will show you where this is, although on my machine the mountain names are displaced to the southwest. Just go to the Isle of Skye, then move east/inland from Raasay to Torridon and have a look around :-/

I don’t care about midges, I want to be there so badly I can almost smell the warm peat, feel the breeze on my skin. The flip side of the desire for something more that drives so much creativity is dissatisfaction with one’s current lot in life. Memo to self: remember the title of your blog. There’s bound to be something to enjoy today, even if it’s a forced sense of accomplishment when 30pp of proof text stutters out of the printer to be sent to an author. Faithful Henchcat says “Just feed me chicken when I wake up. What more could you want?”

ps. http://www.bakerina.com/

The socks are growing… see? Two short-row heels and one of the feet they’re intended to fit. The first one is not quite perfect (I thought it was too easy to be true and unlike the maths exam, it was). It took me a while to realise I was finding it difficult to distinguish between the last knitted stitch and the next wrapped stitch; no way was I tinking that, so I fudged it. Anyone else see a sock covered in chocolate sauce there? I paid MUCH more attention to the next one and it worked as it should. I’m experiencing a momentary difficulty in getting the lace on the back to join the lace on the front as it should, but I’ll get there. How can I not? Others have marked the way for me …

Someone did it first. I was thinking about that as I worked through the first heel (part of the problem, perhaps, but I don’t regret it). Someone, somewhen was knitting something that needed a bulge and thought “If I did this and that, then… “. I don’t think it could have been me in a previous incarnation, alas: I don’t think that way. Or perhaps I lack the confidence to look beyond the instructions? But I spent some time staring off into the middle distance thinking about the people who can do that, who did it without instructions: those who first tried twisting fibre into string, who worked out how to get linen out of flax. Who put a bit of stone or wood on a stick to get the right weight to make a spindle. Who thought of running string through holes in square bits of wood and rotating those bits of wood to get a shed: tablet weaving! Who devised the Weaver’s Cross… The list is almost endless, the complex beauty of what we do today traced back through time through all the individuals who contributed finesse and elegance and functionality to the people who did it first. I’m knitting gratitude and admiration into those socks and, more importantly, I am a (very) small part of the tradition keeping their accomplishments alive, passing the knowledge on.

ps. Most of the blue flowers are Nigella damascena, commonly called Love-in-a-Mist or Devil in the Bush. Interesting combination of names. There’s a single Viola cornuta, the last of the Forget-Me-Nots and a bit of a petal of Papaver orientalis Perry’s White at the very top.

All those things I said I was going to do and look what happened. I think I’ve been bitten by the Sock Bug. Those are the soles of what are, to be painfully honest, my second-ever pair of socks. More about the first in a moment. These here are real socks, ones that fit (so far), in Fleece Artist ‘Sea Storm’ sock yarn (feels a little harsher than the Cherry Tree Hill, but not badly so), knitted toe-up two at once on two circulars. I started (!) on Magic Loop, which is really no different in method, but two circulars allows me to knit the pattern in 2.5mm and the soles on 2mm which by all reports will make them last longer and be softer underfoot. The glittery thing is my stitch counter, more beads (the fabulously detailed black&whites are Corina’s lampwork) and silver-coated copper. When I desperately needed a counter yesterday I remembered a bracelet in what looked like leather and large wooden beads I’d seen on a website and invented an equivalent. As soon as he saw he said “It’s an abacus”. Clever man :-)

I refuse to think about the heel yet, but I’ve already learned a lot. I comprehend Second Sock Syndrome: I’m certain the thrill of making these will carry me through to the end, er, top, but I already understand that after making one by itself the second would be less a thrill, more a matter of grim determination. I’m testing a theory about the causes of the pain that some bloggers report when knitting socks. I have found that the wool can hurt my fingers, and I do get arm pain sometimes. The two usually occur together, and I think it’s a function of tension/stress AND the need to see what this fine-ish yarn is actually doing on these thin needles. When things started to hurt I analysed what I was doing, how I was holding the work (three cheers for Pilates and previous wrist/elbow problems that have taught me that these things matter), and found that I’m holding the knitting far more tightly than I need to — the wool on the needles is biting into my fingers because of the ferocity with which I’m pressing down on it — and I’m holding the knitting close to my face, high up my chest so my middle-aged eyes can see what I’m doing. By looking OVER the top of my reading glasses to see it, which is too stupid for words. To hold the knitting up I’m bending my arms, compressing my elbows and wrists, which is painful if I do it for long periods especially when I’m tense. The solution I’ve found is to consciously stop stressing and hold the work more naturally. Work in better light – I’m looking for a lamp to stand by my comfy chair – and, if you wear reading glasses, make certain you’re using them correctly. My VDU glasses (reading lenses set up for the distance I should be sitting from the computer monitor, essential for someone who spends hours every day in front of one) were a significant improvement because the ‘Reading’ bit of my bifocals is set up for a closer distance than is comfortable for holding knitting. For some people it might be worth getting a really cheap pair of glasses made up for their comfortable knitting distance in the same way that weavers have glasses set up for weaving.

Those first socks. Let’s keep this short, shall we? Toward the end of my First Phase of Knitting I diversified away from aran with a brief foray into intarsia (Phase Ib, as an archaeologist might classify it). Rowan, Kaffe Fassett, ’nuff said. Lots and lots of bits of expensive wool left over, sat in a bag for ages until the day when, while cleaning a particularly inaccessible bookshelf, I came across a Patons? 1970s? booklet of sock patterns I’d never done anything with. Everything was striped and for no reason I can now comprehend it occurred to me that the leftover bits could become striped socks. So I bought some dpn needles, cast on and started knitting. I gave no thought to gauge, to suitability of yarn, I just followed the pattern with the yarn I had. I didn’t even think to keep track of what I did where and when so the socks (I was so certain I was knitting socks) would match. I just knitted, and if you try to imagine what I made, your imagination will probably fall far short of the awful reality. They were vaguely sock-shaped, but that’s where any resemblance to ‘Socks’ as wearable items ended. One was a bit too large for him, the other a bit too large for me. Neither was sufficiently beautiful to be a Christmas Stocking or a sculpture, or a cat toy. I have no idea what happened to them, and I don’t care… I love what’s on my needles now to the point of distraction. In fact I hear their siren song now. Excuse me, I could be knitting socks :-)

See? A shadow: the sun is shining! It’s glittering off an array of markers, nearly 40 of them so far in silver-coated copper wire (I’m not good enough to deserve real silver :-), amber and… damn, I’ve forgotten what the green stone is. I had to think of something to do while scanning stuff yesterday. I hesitate to continue with work that matters just in case the machine decides I’m asking too much of it and lets an application die. InDesign does its own backups, but everything else requires me to do it and I rarely remember at the right times. I’m thinking of lace, Sivia Harding’s Diamond Fantasy Shawl and, of course Birch. Handmaiden Sea Silk colourway ‘Ivory’ is swatching on 3.75mm in the DFS pattern; I love silk, but in the last week or so I’ve begun to understand why one might want to use it spun with at least a little wool. Its lack of elasticity is very unforgiving, but I almost got that ‘this is Right’ feeling knitting after lunch today. When I finally decide if I got gauge on the Enigma (those blobs confuse the issue) I’ll cast on my first try at a proper *fitted* t-shirt. I bet rain descends again as I do so.
The post this morning delivered two 60cm 2.25mm Inox circulars, so I did the figure-8 cast-on for my first proper pair of socks in the Blueberry Hill. Woot! (I believe that’s the appropriate exclamation to describe my excitement.)

What else… ah, you might want to see the weaving. I keep admiring it, well, bits of it. Note that the neat Really Twilly bit at the bottom of the picture is not correctly aligned (at 45°). I corrected my tension after the first lavender insertion. That vertical band was an attempt to be very, very clever. It would work if I could keep track of the pattern in it hasn’t worked. My thought was that the scarf would be very, er, horizontal with all those horizontal bands of twill and various wefts, so I set up four shafts I just happened to have spare to produce a diamond pattern that would repeat up the length of the scarf to give it some verticality. Problem is that, with other plans not yet visible in that sample, I am working 12 shafts and with only an hour or 90 minutes at most to spare in the average day, I just can’t establish a rhythm and spend ages writting stuff down, or working knitting row counters to keep track of what each set of four shafts has to do when I get back. Basket weave is easy (and absolutely GORGEOUS in that silk) but inappropriate. Grrrr. Another lesson learned. Annoyance made worse because the nice smooth silk becomes quite hairy with the wear from the heddles (I am not overworking the reed, honest, I’m being extremely careful), and it’s sticking. I’m having to clear the shed manually each time I pass the weft. Someone suggested hairspray; you can’t see it, but I’ve bought some to try. I also briefly considered a quick pass with a blowtorch to scorch the offending haze, but that might have been from annoyance. We’ll see… Silk’s lack of elasticity is a minor annoyance here, too. It contributes to the thread binding. On the other hand, as the tension evens out further down in the weaving the twill design slowly pops out. I love it.

ps. Notice that plastic drinking straws make perfectly acceptable bobbins/shuttles for short lengths of string. I just wish I’d wound that lavender onto the hot pink straw!

Out of curiosity I researched this briefly as a cross between procrastination and a reward for starting work at 7 am and working without pause until 1030, when I stopped for hot chocolate. It’s… interesting. In the Chinese sense. There’s no consistent policy, which must be fun for knitters who fly a lot. According to the written regulations (presumably airport security has the final say) the Canadian Air Transport Authority (responsible for all airports) allows all knitting needles (just keep scrolling down until you see ‘yes’ glowing a friendly green). The Canadian airline Zoom refers people to the CATA; on the other hand Air Canada has a cute cartoon of knitting needles (complete with knitting) in company with knives, scalpels and what I think is a Stanley knife (it might be an electric razor or a USB drive, but I’m not going to try to imagine the ways in which those could be used to hijack a plane) as things that have to go in hold baggage. According to this website the US Transport Security Administration allows knitting needles. The British Airports Authority says nothing at all about carry-on baggage on its website; Gatwick is a BAA airport and its list of prohibited items does not include knitting needles (I’m very taken by the notion of a sporting bat. How are they trained? Are there inter-species competitions? I’d be willing to subscribe to a sports channel to watch them). Birmingham isn’t on the BAA list; it doesn’t allow knitting needles. British Airways cheats, saying only “Please note that you cannot carry sharp items in your carry-on bags”. HOW sharp? Do they prohibit pencils? I can put a point on a drawing pencil that you might not believe; I believe it because I’ve got a permanent tattoo-equivalent on a finger where by some incredible sleight-of-hand (that’s what I call it) I managed to embed one and break the lead. Without even trying. I reckon that a properly sharpened pencil of the appropriate length could be a lethal weapon even if it wasn’t used to draft cutting political satire, or blackmail. More to the point (sorry), why so many different policies? Is the head of the TSA married to a knitter? Was the head of Birmingham Airport Security forced to wear scratchy wool sweaters as a child? Whence comes a deep-seated fear of knitting needles? I suspect it’s Freudian. Shouldn’t I be using my time more productively?

I’m just glad I never acquired the habit of always having a hatpin handy for self-defence (my grandmother’s advice).

Probably not. But this mix of sunshine, looming cloud, driving rain, overcast and scotch mist is becoming tiresome. On the bright side it means I can’t do anything that needs doing in the garden (I’ve established that glaring at the uncut lawn and thriving weeds does not result in the grass dutifully shortening its height, and the weeds just ignore me completely) which means I could have lots more time for knitting and weaving if I didn’t have so much work to do :-(

I have had some fun, though. It’s Open Studios in Norfolk this month, so we declared Saturday a Holiday (he had to work Sunday) and set off to enjoy ourselves. I discovered a source of what could be very interesting dyestuff: a Norfolk farm is growing and processing woad. You can order products from Woad-inc Ltd. The woven, dyed scarves may seem expensive, but they’re Melanie Venes hand-woven and the one I saw/handled in wool and linen was both lovely and interesting, as the wool took up much more dye than the linen. The bamboo facecloth I fondled was incredibly soft, so soft I’m not certain it would suit me. I like a bit of sandpaper, I do. Saves on exfoliants :-) Mind you, I want to wear something as soft and warm as that! I’m told the dyestuff works well: I’ve got three skeins of undyed silk from eBay that were earmarked for dyeing one day; now I know how I’ll do it.

On the left preparations for my first serious attempt at socks. Cherry Tree Supersock in Blueberry Hill, a beautiful colourway on sale at Get Knitted… I got 2 more skeins yesterday. Only one left when I checked to get that URL. Suddenly I feel lucky! According to the Twisted Sisters sockbook one should swatch socks in the round to be accurate about tension. It currently records that I’ve gone from 3mm to 2.5mm and now onto 2mm as I try to get gauge (I need to find some way of labelling this permanently). It’s on 2 circulars, which is dead easy and I think directly comparable to magic loop in terms of pattern instructions. Each time I change needles I change the pattern in some way. One needle is always stockinette, the other is currently different kinds of ribbing but as I gain confidence I’ll test some lace patterns. I’m going to keep adding to the tube as I swatch for more socks (another idea from the TS sockbook). Speaking of socks: I’ll be taking a rare trip abroad later this year. I’ve been reading about what one can and cannot take in carry-on for international flights, and I’m trying to work out how I could take a pair of socks to knit. Metal needles aka Addis seem generally to be frowned upon; circulars are better, but it still seems they’re likely to be confiscated. Denise may be disassembled into apparently harmless components (there’s a Bond sketch in there somewhere), but aren’t small enough. Perhaps I should have a travelling shawl rather than a travelling sock? I’ll try to find an Authority at BAA, but I’d be grateful for advice on this. Personally I can think of several things that one takes on board that are less useful than knitting needles and could be lethal weapons, but I may have read too many thrillers.

Also a swatch of Colinette Enigma in Venezia (shown below in more detail. This is weird yarn that doesn’t (to me) much resemble the photo on the Colinette site. It’s a fine-ish shiny rayon with randomly placed slubs(? is that the word?) of matte cotton, which form the prominent ‘blobs’. Not the nicest stuff to knit, as it doesn’t flow nicely through my tensioning fingers, the blobs make it difficult to maintain a relatively easy tension while knitting and they seem to jam and prevent ‘evening out’ by stretching the finished knit. The Venezia colourway isn’t what I had imagined either, but having said all this… I’ve warmed to the yarn after seeing the swatch. The yellow is a bit strident, but the subtle shades of purple, mauve and grey are lovely. It will make a rather dressy t-shirt, I think. Speaking of t-shirts (and the plan to make one that fits) I note that Eunny Jang is promising an ‘Unraveling’ on tailoring knitting patterns to fit. That’s another seriously talented person. Oh, well, if we didn’t have goals to aim for we’d never achieve anything. Right?

And a FO: I’m still working my way through the results of a major online credit card injury; this is a Wavy Scarf kit in silk bouclé and cashmere. I like what I’ve made, but I’ve used a tighter? smaller gauge than intended so it’s smaller than the suggested size. That was interesting: I started with a 6.3mm Denise (can’t remember the US size), which produced what I thought was a rather sloppy fabric. I switched to a 6mm Addi, and got something I liked much more; the difference was far, far greater than I’d expect from a .3mm difference in needle size. This experience bears out what I’ve read about needle composition affecting gauge; important to remember!

Of course I read Harlot… don’t you?
Years ago, before ever I left home or got married, I realised that the loo/bathroom was an easily accessible fine and private place for those of us who shut the Door (I was bemused to discover recently that there are houses in which the Door is never shut). In stressful times I would retreat there with a book. From this has developed a tradition of ‘bathroom books’, magazines and books left in the loo to be read in those glorious moments of private contemplation snatched from the ravening jaws of routine. Yes, I’m bitter. Anyway, I decided that the copy of Knitting Rules! I acquired last week would be a perfect bathroom book. It is. The wonder of it is that he’s been reading it too. Yesterday evening, while I was musing aloud on the possibility of assembling enough yarn from my stash to make another felted moebius bag, he said “You won’t. I’ve been reading that book, and your stash just isn’t big enough.”

Thank you, Stephanie!