Felt So Good

The felted clogs are finished. I realized earlier in the week that I was really moving along on the second clog, so I made it a goal to finish this week. See, if I got it done by Saturday morning, I could felt my clogs in the top-loader at my LYS whilst meeting with my knitting group. My plan worked flawlessly.

The reason I wanted to felt these at the shop (perhaps previously mentioned) was that they have a top-loader which is supposed to work better for felting. I'm a little less afraid now, so I might have the nerve to try it at home. The only other thing I'd every felted was a Kitty Pi cat bad, and I wasn't really overly concerned with fit that go-round ('Allo, Cliff and 'Allo!)

When I got to knitting this morning, all I had left to do was seaming up the centers of the inner and outer soles...

(Oops -- just remembered that I skipped a step! -- the two soles didn't get loosely sewn together before felting. Crud. Can't tell which one it was now, though, so no harm done, I suppose.)

..and then I was ready for felting.

To the right is a picture of the clogs pre-felting. They are freakishly huge. Click on the picture to see the version over at Flickr with a note showing where my toes are. I never thought that these would shrink down from Shaquille O'Neal-sized, but boy did they.

With the help of Abbe and Stacy, it worked like a charm. We (meaning Stacy) threw in a little lemony dish soap, added some hot water from the tap dumped into the washer to make sure everything was good and hot, put the clogs in a bag, and then we sat back and waited. Actually, I paced around like an expectant father in a 50s sitcom, but in no time things looked done. Then it was just rinse and spin, and voilà!

I tried them on afterwards and Melissa took some picture of me modeling in the shop. I noticed that when these were fresh out of the washer, I could still see the stitch definition, but that seems to have faded as they've dried. I still see a little bit on the toes.

I'm quite pleased. What would I do differently? I might still have to wash these one more time. They're still a little big circumference-wise. The pattern called for these to be a size 11, but I wear a size 10. I wouldn't want them to get any shorter, but I would like them a little narrower. I did make the wide size, because I've always considered my feet to be wide. But I think the pattern must refer to freakishly-wide snowshoe feet. Mine are more Flintstone-ish. But I'm very happy.

This could become a Christmas thing. I hope family aren't reading this...

The Cruelest Month

Just a quick report to remind you (and myself) that I'm still a knitter. I just can't seem to get going on anything, and I've got so many demands on my time. Our house has been chosen to be on our chorus' annual spring garden tour (scroll down the page for details) and lately my weekends have been consumed with vain attempts to make our yard worthy. Frackin' weeds. I have no idea how our yard will stack up next to the others -- all I know is that the other houses are somewhere in our general part of town. But it's not a competition, right? If anyone is interested, I can set you up with tickets. I understand that most of the yards are quite nice -- a great way to get ideas for your yard if you're horticulturally inclined.

I have managed to make some progress on the Classic Socks. This is my first pair of socks made with the magic loop method, and I'm finding it pretty easy. I still have wonky stitches sometimes when I switch from one side to the other, but using the magic loop is only slightly different than using two circular needles. I've been using DPNs for a long time, but this might be my new sock thing. We'll see.

I like the twisted stitch pattern on the cuff. If you've ever done that baby cable rib, where you k2t and then knit the first stitch before dropping both off the needle -- well, that's what's going on here. Only you do it a different number of times and in different sequences so that you get the slanting effect. It's pretty easy and visually cool.

I'm sloggin' along on the clogs. I've finished the first one knittingwise. I still have to sew up the seams down the center of the sole. I'm a little stymied on this. The instructions simply require that I "sew the seams," but the way I want to do it leaves a noticeable ridge which would run right down the center of my foot. I realize this is all going to get felted, but felting won't make an extra thick ridge down the sole go away, will it? I started a seam three or four times yesterday. I'm going to ruminate on this for a while. I know some of my readers have tackled this before -- feel free to chime in with your advice and experiences.

This picture kind of cracked me up, because the ridge around the sole of the foot is called a "bumper" in the pattern, a kind of ridge the offsets the instep from the sole. I thought that this picture made the clog look like a bumper car, especially with the chair upright that seems to be coming out of the back of the clog. I don't remember being particularly fond of bumper cars as a kid, but I do remember standing in line to ride them and seeing a sign that read "No Bumping." No kidding. I also remember that this "rule" was rather laxly enforced.

Felted Clogs & Classic Socks

I was in a weird non-knitting limbo for a short time this week. Nothing on the needles...couldn't breathe...everything was getting dark...

But then I cast on for some stuff and revived.

First on the list is the Felted Clogs which everyone and their felted dogs have been knitting. Now it's my turn. I bought the pattern for these at the Yarn Barn over spring break, and the yarn last weekend when Kristina was in town. Abbe tells me that knitting this takes concentration, and boy, she ain't kidding. Every single freakin' row of this thing has a different set of directions. No "do this for 4 inches" or "work in such-and-such for so many rows." Every single stitch is dictated. So easy to loose one's place. I only had to restart once (so far), so things are looking up. This thing is enormous. Consider that the balls of yarn in the picture above are each the size of one of my fists.

I did knit a test swatch, and sort of got gauge, but I wasn't able to test-felt the swatch, because a) I have a front-load washer and b) I can't find my zippered pillow case that I bought for a previous felting project. I'm not willing to risk clogging up the drain of my washer and the subsequent divorce. I figured, what-the-heck, it's felting -- it doesn't have to be that accurate. So the swatch remains unfelted.

I also cast on for another pair of socks, because that seems to be what I do. I'm using a pattern called Classic Socks from The Knitting Man(ual), which I tried once before with some KnitPicks yarn, but wasn't happy with the results. This time I'm using some beautiful green hand-dyed yarn from J. Knits that I got at the Bluebonnet Yarn Shoppe last summer. I'm using the magic loop method, which I've never used with socks before -- although it came in handy working on the sleeves of the last sweater I knit for Jeff. For some reason the green in this picture is very gray and sagey, while in real-life it's made of much richer green hues.

And the yard continues to bloom and grow. Right now the Knockout Roses in front of our house are, well, you know -- and the freaky looking Jerusalem Sages are starting to blossom. I'm madly taking pictures now so that I can look at them and relive the good old days during our scorched-earth August.

Bombs Away

They only took 437 days to complete, but the Bomb Pop Socks are finally done. They do fit quite nicely. They'll be just thing to wear on those cool 4th of July evening we have here in central Texas.

This was one of those projects that just languished forever. I mentioned on a blog post that I should probably get back to these, and a good friend of mine who was present at their dyeing challenged me to get of my keister and finish these. Thanks, Sharon. It wasn't so bad once I knuckled down. Having said that, I and the people I knit with will be happy to see me knitting something else for a while.

I could only think of one logical way to celebrate this milestone. I asked Jeff to pick up a Bomb Pop at the store to help me celebrate the sweet joy of success. They taste about the way I remember. However, I swear they're smaller than the ones I used to get from the ice cream truck that drove down my grandmother's street during those long ago San Antonio summer visits.

Grandma liked to tell the story (which I only vaguely remember) about the time the ice cream truck came by and I was outside with all the neighbor kids. We didn't have an ice cream truck in our neighborhood in Tacoma, and I was quite fascinated. I got in line with everyone for my ice cream. The ice cream man handed me the ice cream (whether it was a Bomb Pop, I don't remember), only to snatch it back when he found out I didn't have any money. No one had explained that this transaction involved payment! I remember running into the house crying and my grandparents thinking it was hilarious. By the time I scrounged some coins and got back outside, the truck was gone.

Such trauma and drama. But now I got my Bomb Pop socks -- plus a few extra frozen confections in the freezer.

Knit Visit

Kristina, the knitter whose St. Brigid pullover was my inspiration for jumping into knitting cables when I was still a wet-behind-the-ears knitter, was in town for a conference this week, and we found time this morning to get together and knit.

I met Kristina in 2005 when Jeff and I were up in Pennsylvania visiting our friends Sharon and Janelle. Along with several others, we all headed down to the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival. Mind you, this was a mere three months after I'd begun intertwining yarn with sticks, so the whole thing was pretty overwhelming. We had an awesome time. I remember the weather being just like it is here today. Unfortunately, my college's academic calendar, the festival's schedule and the stars only line up just so every once in a while, and this year is not one of them. Kristina gets to go. I am, of course, jealous. Just imagine the damage I could do at a wool festival these days...

I picked Kristina up from her hotel and we ran by my house so I could show her the British Check Sweater in person -- oh, and so she could meet our dog, Silas. He was totally in love -- wish I'd taken a picture. Then we ran by the Knitting Nest and met up with several of my fellow knitters -- friends, knitting, coffee and breakfast tacos. What could be better? I worked on the Bomb Pop Socks (almost done -- I promise). Kristina had just finished the beautiful socks in the picture above while here in town and had already cast on for another pair.

She also helped me pick out some yarn for some felted clogs from the Fiber Trends pattern. As you can see, I didn't exactly choose the brightest colors on the shelf, but I like these. I'm going to use the darker navy color for the sole and the cuff, and the lighter color for the rest. Thanks, Kristina, for steering me away from the gray! Too soon, it was time to head to the airport.

This afternoon, Jeff and I went for a hike in the Barton Creek Greenbelt. The weather was fabulous and the belt was definitely green. Spring has sprung in Austin.

The Great Unwashed

Still knitting. Busy, but still knitting.

My only projects on the needles right now are the Bomb Pop Socks (see right), but I haven't been able to devote much time to them. Life has been take over by keeping the weeds out of my lovely new landscaping. So far, I've been able to keep up, but it takes time. Luckily, the weather has been cooperating and the yard is looking quite lovely. More weeds in the lawn than I would like -- but it's green, right?

I've noticed something interesting while knitting these. Readers may remember that these socks have been on the needles in some form or fashion for over a year. Some have been knitted twice. Thus, I started on this latest incarnation with quite a bit of previously knitted yarn. Non-knitters may not know this, but unraveled yarn tries to keep the loopy shape it was knitted into, which results in very kinky wool. Some of this telephone-cord action can be seen in the far right of the first picture, to the right of the ball of yarn.

I only had very little of the Bomb Pop yarn that had never been knitted -- maybe 20% of the total skein. I started with this virgin wool at the toe of the second sock. You can see it here on the right. Nice, smooth stitches for the most part -- if periodically a bit wonky in the tension department. It was really nice working with this smooth, un-kinky yarn in the early stages. Especially since this is a toe up sock, and with double wraps. I was having to K3t and P3t quite a bit. That's no fun with unruly, previously knit yarn.

Which is what we have here. This picture is from an inch or two further up the sole of the sock, after I had spliced in the kinky stuff. Can you see how the whole fabric seems to tug back and forth, to and fro, this way and that? The rows don't line up as neatly and the little "v" shapes of the stitches pucker in and out.

To be honest,this difference is only really noticeable by looking at it quite closely with the digital macro feature of my camera. It's also hardly noticeable in the 2x2 ribbing portions across the instep. And the great news is that once these socks are washed, the yarn should unlearn it's old shape and conform to it's new configuration. Ain't wool grand?

Janelle -- do you remember if this skein of wool was superwash or not? Shame on me for not remembering.

Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb Pop Socks

If you look in the sidebar to the right, you'll see I have only one thing on the needles -- the Bomb Pop Socks. For newer readers, a bit of history:

Back in December of 2006, my dear friends Sharon and Janelle and their boys were visiting us. We decided to try our hands at dying with Kool-Aid, and one of the "colorways" I created was dubbed Bomb Pop. Much indecision and frustration ensued, mostly surrounding finding a design that will work well with this rather striking striping. I haven't touched these in a year.

Above are the two "things" that have crept ever downward in my knitting basket over the past year. The one one the left is a completed sock, knit in the baby cable rib from Charlene Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks. Too busy for this yarn. The one on the right is a slightly over halfway done toe-up sock with no ribbing. Too many stitches cast on, and thus too big. So I'm seeking a compromise. I ripped out the toe-up sock and started on what you see here.

Now I'm doing toe-up again, but this time with a 2x2 ribbing and four fewer stitches around. I think this is going to work better and not be so hard on the eyes.

I'm determined to get these knit up. Thanks, Sharon, for encouraging me to tackle them again!

Knitting on the Road

Yarn Barn of Kansas, Lawrence, KS

Fried Pies!

Somewhere in the Arbuckle Mountains of Oklahoma...

Do You Need a Lozenge?

When I first read the name of this pattern, I thought, "Lozenge? A lozenge is oval-shaped, like a cough drop, right?" I didn't realize it had an older meaning, referring to a diamond (or rhomboid) shape in general. Diamond shapes in heraldry are called lozenges and are usually associated with coats of arms granted to women.

The different positions of animals in heraldry all have different descriptions -- rampant, for instance, means standing on one rear leg, all others raised. Regardant refers to looking over a shoulder. Statant means standing on all four feet. In the picture above, I was lying on my back and taking a picture upwards. I can't find what that would be called, so let's imagine a coat of arms for this pair of socks -- Knitter Supinant, Lozenge-Clad.

I can't believe I started these on Christmas Eve. They took forever. I basically abandoned them while working on the sweater, and got back to them with a vengeance one I was freed up. I like the pattern. The yarn is a little rough. And stupidly, I ran out of yarn on the second sock. It's two rows shorter than the other. But you can't tell when they're on my feet. I did take some pictures of these, but they don't look so good off the hoof. Some socks only look good on your feet.

I feel kind of edgy. I have nothing on the needles right now -- unless you count the long-languishing Bomb Pop Socks. I kind of forgot about those...

Checks? Check.

The British Checks Sweater is finished! Doesn't it look great on Jeff? Silas looks a little wistful, already missing this pile of wool that's been temptingly sitting on various pieces of furniture around the house, just begging to be slept on. Sorry -- those days are over, mister.

The blocking did wonders, as I hoped it would. Say it together -- "Always believe in the magic of blocking." The stitches smoothed out, the body of the sweater fits great, and the sleeves are just the right length. And, the hem, which had been curling up from the very beginning, is lying there, tame as can be.

I can still see the color dominance shift in the last few inches of stranded knitting, just before it joins the ginger color. I think switching the hands that I held the colors in for the purl side during the flat knitting might have solved this pattern, but I'm going to try not to worry about it. I don't know that I'll ever run into this issue again. If I do, I hope I remember.





After finishing, I wondered why the pattern had the neck opening bound off and then stitches picked up in the exact same place in order to knit the collar. Why not just put them on a stitch holder? It was too late for me to do anything about it, but still, I was curious. Just yesterday, I read a recent post on the Yarn Harlot's blog that explained exactly why the designer did this.

Notice how large the neck opening is? Binding off created a firm, unstretchable edge on which to build the collar. If I had just put the stitches on a holder and continued on later, the neck opening would have been very stretchy and droopy, and the picture above would have to have been posed differently.

I've lived with this project for a long time. I'm not sure what to do next!

Wet Checks

The British Checks sweater is blocking on my Texas Checks beach towel. The Texas Checks are bigger, of course.

This past week I finished the second sleeve. Last night, thinking I was done, I tried it on Jeff and we noticed that the sleeves were a bit long. I know you are all shocked. I think it's genetic. However, unlike previous sleeves I've mangled, fixing this was much easier. I got up this morning, and within an hour I had them shortened. So much easier to unravel and re-knit shoulder-down sleeves than cuff-up sleeves.

This afternoon it was weaving in ends (a surprising number to me considering this was knit in the round and has few seams) and blocking. Stretching it out the two extra inches needed side-to-side was not a problem.

One weird thing. After soaking in the tub and holding the wadded up fabric in my hands to drain, I noticed a strange fine grit in the tub. Like I'd just washed lettuce or spinach. Let's agree not to tell Jeff about this. He already doesn't like to know that I occasionally found what I hoped were bits of hay in the yarn.

The next post should have some modeling shots.

Out of the Weeds

Doesn't it seem like this is the only thing I ever work on? It does to me. Ever since I've finished the stranded part, it seems I haven't been able to work on the ginger portions for more than a few rows at a time. Yesterday, I knuckled down and finished the first sleeve. Progress!

I picked up 124 stitches instead of the 136 called for in the pattern. It just looked right. Every time I tried to pick up the number called for, it just seemed too bunchy and crowded. There were a certain number of decreases that had to be done every 4th row 30 times, I figured out how many stitches that would leave me with, and then stopped at that point. I still ended up two stitches off but two stitches on a sleeve circumference on size 3 needles shouldn't make much of a difference. I tried it on Jeff and the length seemed right.

I don't know how I would have been able to knit this sweater if I wasn't able to holler at Jeff every few hours to try it on for me. He has a real career as one of those dress forms they have on Project Runway. I hope he doesn't get sick of this sweater before it's even finished.

I dreaded the garter stitch cuff for the sleeve. Since the hem rolled so badly, I expected the same result for the sleeve. In fact, I expected it to be worse because it has one less row of garter stitch than the hem. But lo and behold, there it was -- just lying there, tame as can be.

So it's on with the second sleeve, the stitches for which have already been picked up, a little bit of garter stitch around the neck opening (I wouldn't really call it a collar), and then the weaving and blocking. There's some light there at the end of the tunnel.

And plenty of light in my sunny back yard. Now to tackle some of those weeds that are marring my new landscaping...

Head Cold

I'm not one for doing spur-of-them moment projects. I need to dream, plan, agonize, and re-knit large sections of most projects. Part of the pleasure I take in knitting definitely takes place in the time when I'm "fixin' to knit" as we say in Texas.

I broke out of character yesterday and knit this. I cast on in the early evening and by 9:30, it was done. From LYS to finished product in less than 6 hours. No speed record, but not the way I usually do things.

Melissa, one of my knitting friends, put out an APB to get sleeping hats knit for soldiers in Iraq. Seems one of the things they have to deal with over there this time of year is sleeping with very chilly heads. Helmets don't work well for sleeping. So a friend of Melissa's is gathering hats together to send over. She shared a pattern with us and asked us all to chip in. I didn't think I would be able to get to it for a while, but once I got started, it happened fast.

I bought one more skein of yarn (good ol' Cascade 220) than I needed, and this took less than a skein. So I might make one for myself. I might even modify the pattern so that it decreases like the HalfDome hat I made a while back.

Glad to do it. And to the soldier who gets this: stay warm and stay safe.

Compounding Interest

After a week of alternatively ignoring, obsessing with and chasing my dog off of the British Checks Sweater, I decided to remove all of the ginger sections and start over. My gauge was just way too off and the yoke, shoulders and sleeve were all looking way too bunchy. I made my peace and frogged.

As you may or may not be able to see, my gauge is a little tighter in the part on the needles in the bottom half of the picture. I measured in several places, and it seemed I was getting 6 stitches per inch on the size 4 needles. Currently, I'm getting 6.5 stitches per inch on the size 3 needles. The pattern calls for a gauge of 26 stitches every four inches, so size 3 needles it is.

This may sound like a slight difference, but 6.5 stitches per inch with a 312-stitch circumference results in a 48" chest sweater, whereas a gauge of 6 stitches per inch would result in a 52" chest sweater. Big difference, size-wise. Gauge sneaks up on you kind of like compounding interest. Small differences in percentage points (or stitch gauge) can make huge differences at retirement (or a finished sweater).

And all of this I knew going into it. I need to pay more attention and measure as I go. I'm hoping I'm back on track now.

You Say Lozenge, I Say Diamond

Let's call the whole thing bound off. Or the first half of it, anyway.

I finished the first of the pair of Gentleman's Sock with Lozenge Pattern from Nancy Bush's Knitting Vintage Socks tonight. I had one of those nice moments yesterday evening when, thinking I had rows and rows to go but stopping to count, I found I was ready for the toe decrease. All I had to do tonight was Kitchener-stitch the toes. Done!

I took the finished sock and the remains of the ball of yarn to the scale. Yes, you guessed it. 1.9 ozs. each. You would think I live for the danger of knitting on the edge like this, but it really does work my nerves. So I've got a whole sock's worth of anxiety ahead of me.

I'm having some thoughts about the British Checks sweater. The arm (as noted by one of my fellow knitters last weekend) is really quite large circumference-wise. I thought it would shake out with the decreases, but I nearly finished the first sleeve and it's still big enough to fit two arms in. In fact, most of the ginger section has a looseness and bagginess to it that I just don't like. I'm seriously thinking of frogging all the orange parts and trying again on smaller needles. It wouldn't take that long...

I should rename this sweater the biscotti sweater, because it's nearly been twice-baked. In any case, Silas likes it. He's usually a good boy and rarely gets on the furniture while we're out of the house, but every once in a while he gets the urge. And tonight the chair he chose was the one with the sweater piled in it. It was quite warm -- and well-pressed -- when we got home from our walk this evening. This picture was snapped during his perp walk.

Inoxydable

Now THAT'S a knitting needle!

Not really. In actuality, it's something called a soil knife. In a conversation about weeding my new landscaping that I had with a colleague at work last week, it was suggested that I get a soil knife. It's kind of like a garden trowel, except thinner and sturdier. And it has those menacing serrated teeth on one edge. And it comes with swashbuckly scabbard-sheathy thing from which one can withdraw it as one stalks unwanted flora. Eye-patch not included.

So imagine my knitterly surprise when I looked at the writing on the blade. It reads INOX ITALY. Right there on the metal. Many knitters will be familiar with the Inox brand of enameled metal knitting needles, which I believe (but am not sure) are made in Germany. They are very smooth and make a pleasant (or annoying, depending on whether you are me or Jeff) clinking noise as you work with them, especially if you are using the double-pointed variety.

So, I thought -- how is it that a company could make knitting needles AND blades for soil knives? I dug around on the internets, finding all kinds of references to European companies that made ball bearings, fitting rings, cookware, countertop surfaces -- all referring to Inox. Then, I finally stumbled across a page that explained -- Inox is short for "inoxidable" -- or something which cannot be oxidized -- usually in the context of acier inoxydable(Fr.) or stainless steel, basically. Which makes sense. And which everyone in the knitting community probably knew, except me.

Sew Its Seams

That was one of the instructions (but not the exact wording) on the British Checks Sweater. Sewing seams is the part of projects I dread. It usually involves sitting at the kitchen table for a day or more, hunched over the pieces of my sweater and looking like Motl the Tailor before he got his newfangled sewing machine. The whole process makes my back hurt and makes me cranky -- and I never quite feel like I'm doing it right. But not this time.

This time, since this is all knit in the round, the sewing only involved 47 stitches on each shoulder. That was it. Straightforward horizontal seaming -- go under the first stitch on the bottom half, go under the corresponding stitch above. Still somewhat easy to lose one's place, but no grueling task either. I was pretty happy with how they turned out.

But life is all about the trade-offs right? I may have dodged the nemesis called Seaming, but I came face-to-face with her evil twin, Picking up Stitches. Groan. This is one of those skills that I've gotten better at over time, but I'm still not eager to do it. I'm waiting for the day that I just do it effortlessly without gritting my teeth and steeling my nerve before jumping in.

The sleeves called for picking up 136(!) stitches. So I divided that in two and figure out each side of the sleeve (front and back) would require 68 stitches. The pattern said that the armhole should be 10.25 inches long -- which mine was (woo-hoo!). Then I divided that in half and placed a safety pin ( note to self -- get real big-boy stitch markers some day) -- 34 stitches on either side of that. Then I divided again to get four 17-stitch sections on each side. That made things more manageable.

However, not all selvedge edges are created equal. In the ginger-colored sections, I had about as many edge stitches as I needed to get 17. Usually, instructions for picking up stitches along the edge will say something like, "pick up three stitches for every four selvedge edge stitches." So picking up one for each edge stitch seemed a bit crowded -- and I think the picture shows that. Probably has something to do with not getting row gauge in this section.

On the stranded part, the instructions had me slip the edge stitches, so I had to find 17 stitches in a place where I only had a dozen slipped edge stitches. I ended up going in a row for the picking up. I think I did mostly okay. I continue to put my faith in the miracle of blocking.

When it came to the decreases for the sleeves, the instructions were a little ambiguous. Without giving too much design information away, It said to "decrease every 5th rounds x(0,0,0) times; every 4th round 0(x,x,x)times; every 2nd round x(x,x,x) times. It seemed like the 5th and 4th round decreases were concurrent (if you did the small size you did every 5th and all other sizes every 4th), but I couldn't figure out the last part. I remembered that I'd seen the designer's site on Ravelry, so I sent her a message and she very graciously (and quickly) responded. Turns out the editors had left out the word "then" before the every-2nd-round instructions. Small word, big difference. But all is clear now. Thank you, Ms. Spurkland!

So for now, it's round and round. On two circular needles because I didn't have needles small enough to do it on one and I'm too lazy to go buy new dpns.

Ginger Snapped

Today, I finished the back part of the British Checks Sweater, completing the first ginger section. So I thought I'd take some snaps. The first picture shows the outside, and the second picture shows the inside.

In the pattern, the stranded section continues on a few inches into the armhole part of the sweater. This stranded section is knit flat rather than in the round. Knitting stranded flat is like learning to knit all over again. I had finally gotten used to knitting continental on the left with the light color and throwing with my right with the light color -- now I have to do this with purling? Throwing purls (I like the way that sounds!) was painful and bad. My gauge changed. And, horror of horrors, it appears that the yarn dominance changed.

I may have mentioned this before, but when knitting with two strands of yarn, the strand that is carried lower along the back of the work will stand out more on the front. I'm no sure why, but I think it has something to do with the lower-strand taking more yarn and thus appearing larger than it's upper-strand neighbors.

Throughout the section knit in the round, I kept the lighter color in my left hand, which ran below the darker color carried in my right hand. The lighter color had dominance. I continued to do this while knitting flat, but the dominance seems to have shifted. For the last two inches or so of the stranded pattern, the darker color stands out more. You kind of have to look for it, but it's noticeable -- kind of like working with a different dye lot. Let's just say Jeff can see it.

Do you think switching hands with the color would fix this? I just don't know and haven't been able to find out anything about this. In any case I won't be doing this, because I'm not going to reknit the back. In fact, I'm going to try and make sure I do the dominance shift on the front side, too. I'm worried that when I try to, I won't be able to. We'll see.

And now a little something bizarre that sock knitters will appreciate. This afternoon when I took off a cabled sock that I made several years ago, I saw this hilarious pattern that had been imprinted on the top of my foot. If you click on the picture and go to my Flickr site, you can see notes that point out the different pattern areas.

I'm not sure why I felt compelled to share this. I hope you don't find it too disturbing.

I Resolve...

...to knit more and then post about it. Sounds simple, eh? I've been doing quite a bit of knitting, actually, I just haven't been in the writing mood. The semester got off to a fast start and we've been very busy around here.

I did get most of the body of the British Checks Sweater re-knit. Just a few more rounds to go. I tried it on Jeff again. We don't have a halter-top this time, but things are still a little snug. I think I'm within the blocking zone this time, so I'm not going to re-knit it yet again. I think I'd go insane. Me and gauge -- we are destined to be eternal enemies, it seems.

I've also been picking up the Gentleman's Sock with Lozenge Pattern, AKA the Pineapple Socks, from time to time. Yesterday and today I knit the heel flap and this morning I finished turning the heel and have gotten started on the gusset decreases. The instructions say to keep the lozenge pattern going -- something like "continue pattern on needles 2." I like how Ms. Bush assumes that by now you've figured this out and don't need row-by-row instructions on how to keep the pattern going. In some cases, this type of vagueness would freak me out, but I seem to be in sync with Nancy on this one. Feels nice. So far so good.

Oh, and I did a bit of stash enhancement last weekend. My knitting friend Melissa was knitting with some of this, and I just had to get my hands on it. It's Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock (which I always love) in the colorway "Mineshaft." Intriguing, to say the least! The Knitting Nest had two hanks left, and I snatched them up. I love Lorna's Laces sock yarn (see this and that), I love darker colors, and I can't wait to give this a try.