When it comes to board games, I’m not that big on Monopoly. But the kiddo is. REALLY is. Luckily, we found a special edition Beatles version at the cabin we rented. Mix in a new pair of fantastically bright socks and I was ready to play several rounds.
Pattern: AfterThought Heel Socks Yarn: Regia Fluormania in Neon Flower
I’m definitely a creature of my surroundings. No surprise, then, that my fish socks demanded serious needle time during our cabin vacation. Finished them up with plenty of time to hold a photo shoot on the dock. (The perfectionist in me feels compelled to tell you that these hadn’t had a good soak yet — that’s my excuse for the wonky colorwork, especially in the gusset area, and I’m sticking with it!)
The socks sure came in handy when the temperatures dropped mid-week and I was otherwise regretting the fact that I’d failed to pack bed socks. Given the double layer of yarn created by the stranding, I’m pretty sure these will be a favorite this winter — whether or not I feel the need to “Just Keep Swimming!”
By the time this post publishes, I should be well on my way to completing one or more of these WIPs. (Thanks, auto-scheduler!) Clockwise from the top: Ombre Cardigan, AfterThought Heel Socks, Swedish Fish Socks, Porthos socks.
And given my tendency to over pack projects for vacations, especially those that are built around lounging, chances are good I’ll return with another WIP to add to the list. Bliss!
Normally, I’m not a fan of pooling. In fact, I started my Vintage Office Socks three times before I found a combination of stitches/inch and needle size that gave me irregular stripes. This time, though, I’m digging the way the pooling curls around these socks in combination with the pattern’s curvy vertical lines.
Where do you stand on the pooling continuum — love or hate?
Wassily Kandinsky has long been my favorite painter. (In fact, I used to have a cat named after him.)
So when I saw that the Art Walk series had created a colorway based on his Composition Storm, I just had to have a skein. Yarn that special deserved a special pattern. No plain vanilla socks, here. I settled on this lacy pattern by Tanis Lavallee.
I’ve gotten over the hurdle of wearing my hand-knit socks. That said, these cashmere lovelies might just hide out in my sock drawer for a few more months…
These started as my “must use up the cashmere” project. By the time I reached the first toe, though, I’d taken to calling them my Very Hungry Cashmere socks since the colors reminded me so much of Carle’s caterpillar.
I’m smitten with them — even more so than I’d thought. I was about two pattern repeats into my Happy Street shawl when it occurred to me that something about it looked familiar…
Worse yet? I was catching up on FO shots this weekend and realized that I’d knit three projects in a row with blue, gold, and burgundy stripes. Here are my Follow the Yellow Brick Road socks, started during Izzy’s rehearsals for The Wizard of Oz.
In response to my last post, Jane asked how I combat second sock syndrome. It’s a good question and one that I’m hoping will generate some discussion. Here’s the answer I gave her:
I’ve found I’m happiest when I’ve got two different pairs on the go at once — when I finish the first sock for pair A, I start a new pair. Then when I finish the first sock for pair B, I cast on the second sock for pair A, which I now want to finish so I can cast on pair C.
It’s my personal wooly version of Pavlov’s dog since I only own two pairs of 2.5mm small circulars. Plus, I always have two flavors of knitting to pick up depending on my mood — “challenging” (new pair) and comfort (second sock).
But I’d really love to hear other tips and tricks for dealing with this all-too-common malady. So I ask, “How do YOU combat SSS?”
And, my dear friends, I have a few more finished pairs waiting to be blogged. Yep, I’m in deep. And I’m not even going to try to blame this winter. There’s just something so satisfying right now about playing with color and texture on a small canvas — feeds my creativity AND my need for completion.
Consider the subtitle to this post “Ode to Elizabeth Bishop.” Or maybe just “One Art: Part 1.” The hardest part about moving cross country is that there’s always people and places left behind. Let’s just say I was especially missing the splendid colors of a New Mexico sunset when I knit these socks for the TFA Holiday KAL.
They’ve been finished for nearly two weeks now and even worn and laundered. Just took awhile to document them here. Slowed, no doubt, by my scramble to finish up a pair of KAL mitts by this Friday and some covert holiday knitting.
Don’t get me wrong: Minnesota is home and always will be… Yet, January is sure to be good sock knitting weather and I have a pair of Maryland socks in mind. Albuquerque and Baltimore — two lovely cities.