the case of the super annoying socks

On Sunday night, we were invited to the home of a new friend for snacks and intelligent conversation. It was really fun, and beyond that, mentally stimulating. The host asked me how I designed things. I found the question hard to answer. I tried, but I could tell that for a non-knitter, it was hard to grasp. I'm still thinking on that one. My process is sort of, well, varied from one design to the next.

Also, I come to ideas in different ways. This pair of socks was conceived of back in June, 2009, if not before. Note: Upon reflection, this isn't "world's longest sock project" because when I did some knitting related research at the Kentucky Museum a while back, I saw a half-finished sock in their collection that was still on the needles. I suspect it had been donated in 1939, so I've revised the name of my -now finished-socks!

What inspired these socks were two things. One was a curvy little geometric design that I found oddly seductive. I sketched it out on knitter's graph paper...what you see here is roughly sketch number 47, but who's counting? The other thing that attracted me were some interesting sock yarns. You might know this yarn under the names of Knit Picks Risata or Patons Stretch or Hot Socks Cotton Stretch. It's all very close to the same kind of yarn, a blend of cotton, wool, and a bit of nylon. I found many of the color variations oddly suited to my spring, summer and fall wardrobe, and ended up with one ball each of a lot of colors.

Then I started mixing and matching. I came up with these two colors (perfect for jeans) and dove into the knitting. I did toe up socks since I wanted to use every last bit of yarn. When I got past the heel of the first sock (which took months, for reasons listed below), I started the second sock to make sure I would have enough yarn to make a reasonable length cuff. By the time I realized I'd have more than enough yarn, I'd already cast off the cuff of sock #1 twice, and I wasn't going back another time. Now I know better for the next pair...which will definitely have much longer cuffs.

You'll note that the little graph I did there is my only guide. I know about how big my feet are, and I had a print out of a toe up pattern I'd designed previously (Ploughed Acre Socks) for Knit Green. What got in the way? Well, even simple two color patterns require some attention. If you've been reading along with me for a while, you'll know that I moved from Kentucky to Manitoba since June of 2009. I had just a few other things going on. I also had other designs on the needles. I put down these socks multiple times. I picked up the project again. Every *^$%#&&$ single time, I screwed up the pattern repeat.

If you're a knitter, and even if you aren't, you may see why I always made a mistake following the graph in one place. See that red arrow? That indicates the row that done me wrong. See, the pattern is 2 rows of 2 stitches each of Color A, 2 of Color B. Except for that one lone row...that's not like the others... Ouch. Since I am a deluded perfectionist when it comes to color patterns, and for a while I thought I might try to sell this design, I ripped it out-- every single time I made an error. When I wasn't making an error, I was in a two color knitting groove that skipped along soothingly--except for that one row, which caused me needless anxiety every time. I kept having to check the chart to make sure I wasn't doing it wrong.

Also, the stretchiness of the yarn made me think that the cuff would be ok without a special bind off. When I bound off the first sock in the traditional fashion, I just about cut off circulation to my foot when I tried that on, so I again had to go back, rip that out, and bind off in a way that offered more elasticity so that the cuff wouldn't cause any kind of inadvertent foot amputation.

So, what have I gotten out of this?
--A design I will never knit again, because my chart's lack of symmetry about threw me over the edge. Plus, without additional changes to that graph, I'd never make anyone else try it, for fear they'd come after me with a butter knife in the middle of the night, hoping to cause a slow and painful death. (This is the level of frustration it seemed to cause me, anyhow, but maybe I am a symmetry addict.)

I have maybe 6 more pairs of sock yarn matched up, waiting for me to make myself new socks with these two colors, one solid and one variegated. By the time I do that amount of knitting, all the color lines of this yarn will have changed, and that would affect my ability to sell the pattern, were I to write it up. Also, although these yarns are very nearly exact twins of each other, aside from color, they are sold by different companies. This makes it inconvenient for other knitters to conveniently match up the colors. My guess is that they are being produced by the same spinning mill but being sold by a variety of different yarn companies, or maybe just it's a common sort of sock yarn formulation.

Now that I've talked to you about these socks, I'll wear them. I'll try to block out why they were world's most annoying project, and try to enjoy them. Of course, it's back to the drawing board with that sexy little curve I graphed out. There's got to be loads of easy ways to make the chart fun to knit. I just haven't found it yet.

How often is creating a design this persnickety? More often than you'd think. I think designers try to shield knitters from this type of experience, for good reason. It'd make a lot of people give up knitting and try badminton....

but I'm bad at badminton, so I'll stick with knitting. :)

name that muffler

My busy weekend went swimmingly! I think both things I was in charge of leading on Saturday and Sunday went well. In terms of the spinning workshop on Sunday, well, I've never had such a big class before. Ten eager new spinners left after 3 hours...and I've already heard from one of them. Thanks for all your cheering over here on the blog. (I heard all that moral support--I was nervous, new city and all that, and you helped!)

I did miss our neighborhood grandma's 90th birthday open house, but I'm hoping to drop by and visit with her on a quieter day instead.

Since the weekend, things have still been quite busy. There's been research on fireplaces, a lovely dinner out at a neighborhood bistro, and last night, we went to the movies. I also fit in an hour of skating with a friend--potentially the last of the season, as the rinks are beginning to close for the year. It's warming up--though you wouldn't know it from the snow and slippery weather this AM!

Now, I promised you knitting in my last post. World's slowest sock project will have to wait. I've finished one sock and tried to photograph it by myself. Disaster. Looks bad. So, I'll try to finish sock number 2 and do a second foot photography session. It's really no wonder the photos looked bad the first time. I think that's how every single part of these socks have worked. It is possible I have reknit those things in their entirety two or three times. (As a comparison, last night at the movies, I knit roughly 4-5" inches of a sock cuff on size #2 (2.75mm) dpns. So, it's just these particular slow poke socks that are losers, not all socks that I knit...)

This morning, the professor took me outside to enjoy a bit of the snowflakes and to photograph my new scarf project. The light snowfall made everything look white and sparkly. (even my hair)

This scarf was a riff on the Gator Gaiter
pattern in Knit Green. I've been wearing the white cashmere version of this scarf off and on during the winter. My friends in town here love to say "Hey, isn't that the one that is in your book?!" Why yes, it is. However, it wasn't very thick or warm enough for colder weather, so I wondered how I could make an improvement. I had some Zitron Loft in my stash and two balls later, I had a scarf.

It started out sort of like the Gator Gaiter, but well, I couldn't help it, I changed it. It's different enough so I am thinking perhaps of putting it together as a pattern for sale on my website and Ravelry Store.

It was very fast to knit, and once I got into the 2 row pattern repeat, it zoomed along. It's pretty adjustable in terms of yarn weight and length, too. It's also well designed for a prairie breeze, because it has a hole in one end of the scarf so you can tuck the other end right through.

So, what do you think? Worth spending the time to write up the pattern? What, pray tell, should I call it? I've thought of things like "the deluxe gator" and "the doublewide" and the professor just snorted. If he doesn't think those are appealing names, well, then, I doubt knitters will either. I'm fresh out of clever names.

Please give me your brilliant thoughts and name ideas in the comments. If I pick your fabulous idea for a name--and maybe, if you seem enthusiastic, I manage to write up the pattern sometime soon--you'll get a copy of the pattern for free. I look forward to hearing your suggestions!

(Now I just have to find time to clean for Passover, which is coming soon)