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.

 

Well Then

I dug out an old unfinished project to accompany me on my travels this summer. I wound up starting it over -- there were only about 4 inches so far -- because I couldn't figure out what was going on. But it goes pretty fast. It's pretty mindless, in that I don't have to refer to the written pattern to keep it going at this point. I just have to pay attention at the beginning of every right-side row to make sure I'm alternating the pattern.

It's unblocked lace, so it can be pretty hard to see what's going on. Markers every 20 stitches keep me on the straight and narrow - if I don't have 20 stitches between markers, something has gone wrong on the previous row (usually forgetting to pass the slipped stitch over, which is pretty easy to fix in the moment. I'd hold it up to the light occasionally to check that the pattern had no obvious large-scale mistakes. But there's only so much room to do that while seated in the front of a pickup, and inevitably, I missed something.

I was pleased when I got home to see how much progress I'd made. Until I held it up to the light while standing, and realized that halfway back, I didn't alternate the pattern.

I've already ripped out (carefully, this is fuzzy yarn) half my work and started off again. But now that I'm home, I'm looking for more interesting projects, and I sense that this will soon be tucked away until my next trip.

It doesn't help that I have no idea what I'll do with it. It's mystery yarn, but definitely alpaca, which I do not wear.

Scrub-a-dub-dub

At the urging of an adventurous KD, I impulse-bought a skein of Red Heart Scrubby (in white!). I am perfectly happy with my nylon crocheted dish scrubbers with matching cotton dishcloths. But I was curious about the yarn, a 100% polyester fun-fur sort of thing.

I got two dishcloths and a smaller piece out of one skein. It was okay to knit with -- not hard on my hands at all. I just had to watch what I was doing a bit, since a mistake was hard to see until later.

Despite being white, tomato sauce and whatnot seem to wash right off. They don't retain water worth a darn -- if I wipe down a counter, the counter will be quite wet. But there is no denying they clean up well. It's kind of astounding. I might even buy some more.

A River Runs Thru It

The wonderful Yankee Dyer has retired, and I am resolved to use up every bit of her wonderful yarn remaining in my possession, letting none of it go to waste. I knew I had enough green and blue left over to make some summery socks with contrasting heels and toes, but my favorite sock pattern would result in a one-off row of blue across the top of the foot opposite the heel. I got interested in whether or not I could carry a line of blue vertically to meet it.

I tried several different methods, but most of them looked a tad odd once the sock was stretched out on my foot. I finally settled on just duplicate stitching the line with a crochet hook.

Needles: US 1.5 (2.5mm)
Yarn: Yankee Dyer Yankee Breeze merino/cotton in Wasabi and Lagoon (discontinued)
Pattern: mine own

I have one more Yankee Breeze colorway left for next summer's socks, Sangria.

I have a set of Yankee Doodler mini-skeins, and a shawl pattern all picked out. Actually, now that I check, two patterns. A decision must be made...

And finally, a skein of wool fingering in a delicious colorway, Dragonfly, that I will have to find a pattern worthy of.

Nothing to It

If you knit round and round, forming a tube, to make colorwork easier or just because you don't like to purl, eventually you will have to cut open your tube to insert sleeves, a neckline, or just open it up like a cardigan. Cutting your knitting in that fashion is known as steeking. Many years ago Stephanie Pearl-McPhee wrote a funny bit about cutting her first steek, then going to lie down in a dark room to recover. It does seem like a traumatic thing, to first create fabric and then cut it up, but Franklin Habit assured me there was nothing to it. One of my remaining Legacy Projects will require me to steek, so when the opportunity arose to make a quick sweater for myself first that would require steeking, I was on it.

First, knit your sweater. The sleeves were separated off from the body after the yoke, so I only had one steek to cut, the center front. Some people block first, but since I was going to knit on button bands, I didn't want to knit new yarn to blocked yarn, especially because this yarn blooms (becomes thicker) so much when blocked. Some people sew safety seams before cutting, but Lett-Lopi is the "stickiest" yarn I know, and I didn't think I needed to.

Make sure you're at the right spot, in the center of the steek stitches - also the beginning of the row for me, which made finding it easier. The most important hint I read beforehand: position your hand under the fabric being cut, above the fabric not being cut. Better to knick your hand with the scissors than the back of the sweater. Use sharp scissors; make small cuts.

All done. Despite my not-so-steady hands, I managed to stay between the stitches I needed to, and as expected, the edges curled back and grabbed onto each other. Stay tuned for button bands.

Two Decades in the Making

Finished at last!

Needles: US 8 (5.00 mm)
Yarn: Knit Picks' sadly discontinued Gloss HW, an aran-weight merino/silk blend, heavy but glorious to the touch; 10 skeins in Ruby
Pattern: Kerin Dimeler-Lawrence's Calluna Cardigan, which was once available on the Knit Picks site
Mods: Shortened the length above the waist, but don't ask me how after all this time

I started this in 2010, shortened the bodice to match my short-waisted-ness, then blanked on how to adjust the sleeves to match the changes. Twenty years later, i plucked it out of the bag, made and set the second sleeve, and made the collar. Than there was a pause of a few months while I got around to making buttons.

Whose Got the Button?

When I cannot find the Perfect Buttons, I remember with delight that I can make my own. The webpage instructions I use long ago faded into the Archive, which makes me nervous (what if the Wayback Machine disappears?), so I thought I'd explain a bit here.

Dorset Buttons

Step 1. You need plastic rings of a size slightly smaller than you want the finished button to be. Also, leftover project yarn. This is Aran weight, so I'm using 48" of yarn per button. Lace or fingering weight can take up to 100" per button.

Step 2. Cover 3/4 of the ring with blanket stitches. Pull the beginning yarn tail against the ring and catch it in the last 1/4 of stiches, completely covering the ring. Not shown: pull snug and snip off the tail.

Step 3. Align the bottom of the blanket stitches around the outside of the ring, then carefully push them all to the inside of the ring. Wrap the yarn 4 times evenly around.

Step 4. On the backside, the wraps do not cross in the center. Insert the needle where the crosses are closest to the ring, and tug towards the center, then run the needle back to the backside to secure.

Step 5. Wrap the 8 spokes, stitching from left to right but moving one spoke to the left each time.

Step 6. Repeat step 5 at least once. With this yarn, all I could manage were 2 rows. 

There are lots of pretty variations, including ones incorporating two colors. But I'm always so pleased with these that I haven't tried any of the others yet.

More Janney Love

Even though I finished it in mid-April, we had a couple of days cool enough that I got to wear my new sweater, and I continue to love it SO MUCH. If the cardigan in progress also turns out to be a winner, I will have scored a trifecta on Lett-Lopi sweaters.

Janney Pullover

The designer who came up with my current favorite sweater designed two more sweaters using the same gauge-shifting of Léttlopi. Gauge-shifting means that she knits the yarn on much bigger needles than the yarn usually calls for, resulting in a lightweight-but-still-warm, drapey fabric. I went through my Léttlopi stash, ordered one single color (restraint!), bought the patterns, and cast on the first sweater.

Needles: US 9 (5.5mm) and 10.5 (6mm)
Yarn: Ístex Léttlopi in Dark Gray, Apricot, and White
Pattern: Mary Jane Mucklestone's Destination Pullover, from Modern Daily Knitting's Field Guide No. 17
Mods: I made the optional pockets (pockets!), I used a motif from my pattern stash, and I made symmetrical colors on the sleeves

I chose a motif that I found when packing up my patterns, from a Malabrigo sweater pattern. It reminded me of waves, but also of Janney couplings, and since I had just recently discovered a family connection to Eli Janney, I decided to use that instead of any of the many perfectly nice motifs offered by the pattern. I did put a little bead motif inside the pockets, for fun.

As expected, it fits perfectly. Fortuitously, the weather turned cold again and I got to wear it today. I love it so much! It took me less than a month to knit, and I've already cast on the next sweater.

Favorite Winter Socks

This pattern and this yarn are such a good match that I've made the combination five times. Sadly, the second pair were for KD, so I only have four pairs.

Needles: US 1 (2.25 mm)
Yarn: Patons Kroy Sock FX, this time in Cameo
Pattern: Erica Lueder's Hermione's Everyday Socks

This was legacy yarn, and my sister had used some of the yarn, I think, because I played yarn chicken on each sock, and that's not something I usually have to worry about.

Here's my array. I've just noticed that the colorways are named in a pattern: Cameo, Copper, Cascade, and Clover. (I made Camelot for KD.)

There's Camel, Camo, Clay, and Cowboy, which are too bland for me. That leaves Cadet, Calla Lily, Canyon, Casual, and Celestial, none of which I own, but I will keep an eye out for. Celestial, especially!

I do have some plain old Kroy Socks, which are more regularly variegated in color. I'll probably cast on the blue (Singin' n the Blues) come fall. It's a constant surprise to me, given my love of symmetry, that I love this yarn and these socks even though it's flatly impossible to make two exactly matching socks. They match enough, it seems.

Back to Back Knits

I made a hat. Not the hat I intended. I learned that "super bulky" is a really loosely-defined term in yarn weights. Also, that no one with arthritis (and possibly without) should try to knit three stitches together in super bulky yarn. But once I gave up on that dream, it was the matter of a few hours to knit up a hat that would fit the recipient.

Needles: US 13 (9 mm)
Yarn: one skein of Lion Brand Wool-Ease Thick & Quick Stripes in City Lights
Pattern: made it up as I went along

That left me with two skeins of the same yarn. Since I didn't feel like making three hats, I posited that it was enough for a child's sweater, and Ravelry did not disappoint.

Needles: US 13 (9 mm)
Yarn: two skeins of Lion Brand Wool-Ease Thick & Quick Stripes in City Lights
Pattern: Ashley Lillis's Cozy Kiddo Cardigan, size 2

I am really grateful to the knitter who pointed out a good method for attaching buttons to super-bulky knits: backer buttons! Each of those buttons is sewn to a smaller button of the same color (KD suggested mixing them up, but that hurt my brain), and the knit fabric is just sandwiched between.

Legacy Leftovers: Black Rainbow

I was wrong about which project I'd finish next.

Despite my intention to use up all the yarn on this project, there was a skein of grey and a skein of black left when I was done. I fed the amounts into Ravelry's search engine, and out popped a pattern that had been in my favorites for nearly a decade! So of course I chose that.

Needles: US 8 (5.5 mm)
Yarn: one skein of Lang's Jawoll Magic in black/grey, one skein of something else in black, but the same weight
Pattern: AnneM's Revontuli -huivi/Northern Lights

There's a mistake in the pattern early on, but other Ravelers had commented on it, so I was able to figure out what had happened and start over. I just kept plugging away at it - it took me less than a month. I wasn't overly impressed with the result. It was just a bumpy mess of grey and black, and looked too small, maybe shawlette size.

Then I blocked it. Part of my surprise at the transformation was that at no point did I think of this as lace. There's just the occasional row of yarn overs, the antithesis of fancy. But man, do I love this! Also, it's huge.

In Medias Res

So many things on the needles, all chugging quietly along, but none of them ready for the spotlight.

I spent entirely too much time on this heel flap this week. It's the second sock of a pair, my fifth pair of socks in this pattern, a favorite, and I cannot account for my inability to keep the pattern straight. I'd lose it halfway through the row, and then not notice until a couple of rows later. For hard-to-express reasons, it's not something you can just drop down and fix; entire rows must be torn out. It was maddening, and I stopped counting do-overs after seven. At least it's behind me now. The heel is turned, and I'm chugging through gusset-land.

I am in the long, dark night of the soul on this pretty shawl. Each row is longer than the next, each row is making the next row longer, I still have an inch to go, and it.will.never.end.

This, on the other hand, is coming along swimmingly, and my bet is that this will be the next finished object.

A Decade in the Making

I found a sweater I started for myself on 2011, and finished it.

Needles: US 3 (3.25 mm) and US 5 (3.75 mm)
Yarn: 359 g of fingering weight
Pattern: Svetlana Avrakh's Cut-Away Cardigan

I have no idea what the yarn is, other than a nicely kettle-dyed taupe in fingering weight acrylic. I know what the pattern was, because it was carved on a stone tablet printed out from a now-defunct website. I only had to sew on the sleeves -- no surprise I stopped there, not my favorite task, although I've gotten better at it --

sew up the side seams, and make the edging. That had the nice, and probably intended, effect of stopping the edges from curling.

I even found a nice matching button, which I am just poking through the edging, as there is no buttonhole in the piece. Here's the thing though: I don't like it. I'm not sure why. The color is good, and good on me. The edging makes it a bit on the frilly side, but I could put up with that. I think it's the fit. I just feel dumpy in it. Like I'm wearing someone else's sweater. This probably has a lot to do with the size being from BC (before cancer) - it is miles too big. I like loose-fitting clothes, but this is ridiculous.

So I probably won't keep it. But who knows, maybe someone else will love it.