They were gone, but now they're back again.

I speak of the dreaded Autumnal Socks, the ones I started for Socktoberfest. That was how many months ago now? I can't remember. As I recall it was warmer then. Anyway they have morphed into the autumn 2007 socks as I seem to have missed the deadline this year.



I had such a fight with these things two nights ago. A needle got caught under something and pulled out of the stitches. The stretchy yarn gave a joyous BOING! and the stitches buggered off to some alternate universe. I am ever-so-not-good at picking up stitches in a mire of YOs and decreases and, well, things got ugly. The unfinished sock and I said some things we later regretted. I came thisclose to throwing the whole thing, completed sock and all, into the garbage. Fortunately moderation ruled and I settled for yanking out the remaining needles, putting the needles away and stuffing the whole mess into a bag. To settle my shattered nerves I cast on a painfully cheery plain sock for Sydney.



I felt much better the next day and decided to make amends with the autumnal mess. It occurred to me that if I ripped back to the end of the last pattern repeat I would have three rows of plain knit-and-purl to mess around with, and even I should be able to pick up plain knitting. So I did, and it worked, and I am now ready to embark upon the gusset. And we all lived happily ever after.

As you can see, these dudes are far from identical. After several seconds of trying to find some rhyme or reason to the colour repeats, I decided to declare it random and not make any effort to match them up. I suspect that attempts to make them identical would only have resulted in another battle and more hurt feelings.

As for that idiotically cheerful plain sock, I am considering attempting a PGR short-row heel. Considering, I emphasize. I'm not sure I can take much more drama this week.

Christmas Eve: The Aftermath

I suppose it could be considered divine retribution that after I gloated about not doing any Christmas knitting I received absolutely nothing knit-related for Christmas. As is the case with most over-the-hill people, I received mostly cash. And most of that cash will go towards undoing this little giftie that Santa left under our kitchen sink on Christmas Eve, right after the guests departed.



Please note that the black pipe managed to disengage itself in three (3) different places. Normal people get little leaks, or big leaks, or even pipes that detach in one spot. Only in this house could the entire drainage assembly come crashing to the floor. And in case you're wondering, yes, the kitchen was a wee bit damp, as we were washing the good china at the time of the flood. We have been without a kitchen sink or dishwasher for three days now and will probably kiss the plumber when he arrives in about an hour.

I have been in crochet mode of late. I have almost finished a charity baby blanket, and in a stunning turn of events, am considering starting on some lacy crocheted something-or-others for next year's Christmas gifts. I was mildly disturbed to discover that my sister and I had given our various aunt-and-uncle combos almost identical gift baskets this year so am determined to come up with something more creative next time. I'm thinking table toppers or runners or something of that sort. And my aunt-and-uncle combos will probably assume I bought them at the dollar store and wonder when their shortbread assortment will arrive.

Am I the only one who doesn't knit for Christmas?

All the lists and blogs are full of frantic, last-minute hair-pulling and knuckle-chewing over last-minute Christmas knitting. I, on the other hand, am casually chugging along on my usual assortment of WIPs and feeling a wee bit smug.

I present my list of reasons not to knit Christmas presents.

1. Would the darling ever-grateful nephew prefer a sweater lovingly hand-knit by his beloved Aunt Kathryn or an XBox game? Take a guess. I have no desire to see that many hours of my time tossed over a shoulder with a grimace.

2. I have plenty of other stuff to do this time of year. I have just finished ranting at the husband about the state of our kitchen floor, to cite one recent example. He says he doesn't want to clean anything just to have to rewash it on the weekend before the visitors arrive. I have gently broken the news to him that there is no law against cleaning more than once in a calendar year.

3. I like presenting gifts as soon as they're off the needles. I recently finished a sweater for Sydney and a hat for Taylor (as yet unworn, though she does put it on every morning only to take it off and replace it with a Santa hat before she leaves for school). I just don't see the point in waiting until Christmas. There's loads of other cool stuff under the tree.

4. There is not a chance in hell that I would be able to keep Christmas knitting a surprise. Everything I knit, I knit openly and honestly for all to see. Keeping secrets is next to impossible around here.

5. Closely related to #1 is this point: most people I buy for would prefer store-bought items for Christmas, and it strikes me as a tad self-indulgent to force my hobby on them. And if I may drag point #3 into the mix, my family is accustomed to my knitting for them "just because". They enjoy getting hand-knit gifts throughout the year and I would feel, however irrationally, that I was cheating them if I saved the knitting for Christmas. I must add a big Not that there's anything wrong with that! here. I refer only to my own situation and the precedents that have been established in my own family. If your family expects and appreciates festive knitting, then I wish you Godspeed.

6. It took me two months to knit the Trekking socks. Let's say I'm knitting for fifteen people. No, let's not. Let's not even go there.

Yesterday will go down in history. Two, I tell you, TWO Finished Objects.

First, I present the latest attempt at a hat for Taylor. I present a teeny-weeny image because I could not for the life of me get a clear picture. Please observe that the festive tree, really not important in the grand scheme here, is in focus. The hat, not so much.



I'll fill you in on the hat story. A couple of years ago, in the very early days of this blog, I knit Taylor a hat out of Noro Kureyon and Brown Sheep Nature Spun. She loved it and wore it every day through the winter. This fall she lost the hat (along with her gymnastics shorts and a few other sundry items, but this is not the time for that particular rant). Since the tragic loss I have been trying to provide her with a worthy replacement. I gave her the green hat that I had originally intended as a charity project, but she has dismissed it as being insufficiently warm. This one is thick and crocheted in Patons Classic wool, so I thought it would be suitable. Alas, it has been pronounced itchy, even after soaking in hair conditioner. We shall see whether it ever gets worn. The pattern is a freebie from Crochet Garden, and must say I would not hesitate to pay for Crochet Garden patterns based on my experience with this one. It worked up fabulously.

And I finally finished the Trekking socks.



If I remember correctly I started these on October 7. I recall working on them at a family gathering that weekend. That makes, what, ten weeks? Go me, speed knitter extraordinaire. Actually the problem is not so much my knitting speed as my attention span. I skitter around from project to project and end up making very little progress on any one thing.

Currently holding my attention: the second autumnal sock (I guess we're now looking at autumn 2007, aren't we?) and the Constant Companion.

status quo

I notice that some time ago I uploaded a picture of my burgundy sweater-to-be as My Official Blogger Photo. You may be amused, but not at all surprised, to learn that the sweater-to-be still looks pretty much the same a year or so later.

I have, however, made some modest progress on My Constant Companion. I have finished the bottom and started knitting up the sides. They're maybe a whole inch high now. I have nothing more to say about that except that one knit stitch is following another. Oh, and that I am not looking forward to the miles of i-cord that loom before me. I have never done i-cord before but all my instincts are screaming that it is best avoided.

In sock news, I am in mid-heel-flap on the second Trekking sock. I had actually finished the heel flap (can it be considered a Freudian phenomenon that I keep typing "hell flap"?) but realized that I had knit it a la Charlene Schurch (starting on a wrong side row) instead of the usual procedure that I had used on the first sock. And while I KNOW that the knitting police are highly unlikely to crawl around inspecting my heels to make sure that I didn't start one flap on the right side and one on the wrong side (which, incidentally, also results in the heel turn beginning with a purl row and quite possibly the end of life as we know it), I knew that it would drive me nuts. And so I ripped it and have started reknitting on the right side. I am my own knitting police. It is my cross to bear.

Felting Phase One

I am just tickled to announce that the pockets for my bag felted magnificently in only one cycle. I ended up knitting five pockets, though I don't know if I'll be able to use all of them, and decided to felt them before starting the bag itself. Considering my tendency toward lackadaisical swatching, I think I have shown spectacular patience and prudence on this occasion. In short, I have earned a cookie.

The main yarn is Bernat Lana, with accents of Patons Classic Wool and Brown Sheep Nature Spun, all double stranded. They all felted easily and, mercifully, at the same rate. And by some miracle all the pockets felted to approximately the dimensions I had expected. I present for any felting geeks out there the before and after measurements:

Outside pocket, striped with all three yarns: 11" tall and 12" wide before felting, 7.5" tall and 9" wide felted.

Big inside pocket: 13" tall and 14" wide before felting, 8.75" tall and 10.5" wide felted.

Long inside pocket: 11.5" tall and 5.5" wide before felting, 8" tall and 3.5" wide felted.

Two small inside pockets: 8.5" tall and 7" wide before felting, 5" tall and 5.5" wide felted.

Again, I have no idea whether they'll all turn out to be usable, but I intend to cram in as many pockets as is humanly possible as I am not known for travelling light.