A Spiderweb Full of Spiders

I finished this more quickly than I thought I would. Since the goal was to use up all the yarn without running out during the bind off, I was pleased with this result:

A day spent blocking out the lace:

Then folded and ready to go:

Needles: US 10 1/2 (6.5 mm)
Yarn: 224 grams of grey alpaca mystery yarn
Pattern: Grace Stark's Wrapped in a Hug Stole (via the Wayback Machine)
Mods: none whatsoever
Recipient: KD was more than willing to add it to her packing, so it's already in New York.

I also finished the blue hexipuffs:

I don't normally knit so many from the same yarn, but the variegation made them all slightly different, so I'm okay with the result.

I've turned the heel on the blue sock, and am officially half-done the hexagon blanket (should be done in another month), all of which means --

I got to cast on!

Checking the Current Rotation

I really need to get over this feeling that I can only post when I have finished something. On the other hand, it's probably useful that I have this feeling that I can only start something new after I have finished something.

This is right in front of me, inspiring me to keep working on everything else so I can cast on!

What's in rotation? Well, every day I knit a hexagon on this, which means I should finish it in a couple of months (I haven't actually counted, too daunting).

Every day I knit an inch or two on this, which, given the collapsed state of the ball of yarn, should finish up within the month. The yarn is lovely and soft, but there are too many guard hairs for me, and I haven't figured out a recipient.

Every day I knit an inch on this, with the result that I am FINALLY on the cuff for the first sleeve. Once the second sleeve is done, I only have the collar and facing ribbing to go. Today I decided that cuffs and facing deserve a tubular bind off, so I'll have to remind myself how to do that. I'm still wondering how to block 100% silk.

Nearly every day I remember to knit a pattern repeat on these socks. I can only hope the "tweed" yarn is not as annoying to the wearer as it is to this knitter: I am constantly on guard against wanting to pull all the little fuzzy attachments of color off this nice smooth yarn.

And finally, when I just need a mindless palate cleanser, I knit leftover sock yarn into hexipuffs.

A Myriad of Stars

A few years back, an astronomer friend was expecting her first child. Obviously, a baby blanket of stars was called for. I found a great pattern, bought the yarn, and started in. Within just a few months I realized the blanket would be done about the time the baby started college. I quickly pivoted to a baby blanket in super bulky yarn knit up on size 15 needles, and had it done in time.

Then, this spring, I heard that the baby was expecting a sibling. I pulled out the first attempt, timed myself knitting a few rows, and did the math. I could get it done, but I would have to adhere to a strict schedule of four rows a day. And I did it!

The blanket was delivered this summer, well in advance of the sibling. It helped that about the time I was running out of yarn, I realized it was already big enough, and I did not have to make it as big as the pattern called for.

Needles: US 1 (2.25 mm) (that's right, sock needles)
Yarn: Knit Picks Brava Sport in Celestial (of course) and Canary
Pattern: imawale's Octave or Octavie

I know, sportweight on sock needles. But that wasn't even the worst part -- this is doubleknit! Meaning that it takes two rows of knitting to make one row of the colorwork.

There was a little hitch right at the end, as I was getting ready to work the invisible bindoff that doubleknitting requires. Somehow, after all those inches of pattern, I had failed at the edges for the last inch of the blanket.

I toyed with the idea of telling the mom the opening was so she could stick a dowel in it and hang it on the wall, but then I thought of little baby fingers getting stuck in the opening, and I went back and fixed it.

Resolving a Case of Second Sock Syndrome

Those of us who love to knit socks are aware of the dread Second Sock Syndrome: upon completion of the first sock, new horizons beckon, and the second sock never gets made. I rarely have trouble with this, starting the second sock before even weaving in the ends of the first sock, but I recently unearthed a project bag with one finished sock, and one not even half an inch in length.

The pair was started in pre-Ravelry days, so I have no record of when it was started, no pattern notes, and no idea what the yarn was. But I love a puzzle. First clue: the second sock was still on the needles -- and metal ones at that -- so, before I discovered how much easier wooden dpns are on arthritic joints. A quick check revealed that they were size 0 dpns.

Needles: US 0 (1.25 mm)

The yarn was obviously fingering weight, possibly even light fingering weight, and put up in 100-gram skeins. Given that, and the pattern of variegation, and I'm pretty sure this was a skein of Trekking XXL. Colorway? Let's just say blue, and a quick check of Ravelry confirms the likely color number.

Yarn: Zitron's Trekking XXL in 77 Blue

Pattern? I expected this to be hard, but when I typed descriptive words into Ravelry's pattern search engine, the first result was a pattern by a designer I love, and that I already owned a copy of.

Pattern: Wendy D. Johnson's Toe-Up Feather and Fan Socks

Now then. Before making the second sock, I tried on the first one. It fit perfectly. So what had the roadblock been? I suspect it was the lack of Ravelry - I had made significant changes to the pattern as written, and had no notes for what I had done. I went for a round toe, something I've been coincidentally been wanting to try recently.

Mods: round toe, sewn bind-off

A quick search on "how to knit a round toe," checked the results against the finished sock, and I was ready to go. Counted the number of rows between toe-end and heel-begin in the finished sock, and mimicked that as well. Made the rest of the sock as the pattern suggested, except for a sewn bind-off, which I had clearly done on the first sock and liked the look of.

Cabin Blanket Revisited

I was so pleased with this blanket. Its rustic simplicity, its north woods colors, its sturdiness. Then family members let me know it had not held up to its first season of use, despite being machine-washable acrylic. But it wasn't the laundry that was the problem. It was me.

I had cleverly knit each square with a long enough tail to seam the squares together, resulting in lots of ends to weave in at the corner intersections. And those ends were the blanket's Achilles' heel. This was clearly one of the times I should have overcome my resistance to knots.

Forewarned, I took a skein of the same yarn in black up to the cabin with me when it was my turn to visit, and sewed all the seams in long straight lengths of black yarn. Then I went over each intersection, repairing holes and tying firm knots. We'll see how it survives next month. I hear it was a favorite, so I hope it's up for lots of use now.