Crochet does too have advantages over knitting

Yeah, I know. I have been totally neglecting this blog. I could argue it's because I've been doing things instead of writing about them, and that would be a good defense if everyone didn't know I love to babble.

I had a scare tonight. I went out to rifle through my crochet bag in the car looking for DPNs. I was actually worried they were missing, but I found them right off, no problem. The problem came when I came back inside and Good Kitty went running out. She hasn't tried to do that since a few years ago, when she dashed out and got menaced by the landlords' Jack Russell (oooh, scary!) and cried for her daddy to come rescue her. (Good Kitty adores the Mad Husband and only tolerates sharing him with me because otherwise the box would never get cleaned.) Luckily for me, she just wanted to wander around and gripe loudly for a couple minutes. Silly Good Kitty. I may have to give her a new nickname.

So anyway. Back to the yarn...

I'm discovering one reason that I'm better suited to crochet than knitting -- wait, two: crochet is faster so I have less time to get bored and start wondering what else I can start, and crochet hooks don't have to stay with a WIP like knitting needles do so I can start something else when my willpower fails.

Now would be the perfect time to start crocheting something, but I'm still burned out on crochet from the Customer Spotlight Sale so knitting it is.

I want to start some way-easy socks for the Mad Husband out of Trekking XXL. I have a free set of #0 DPNs, and a free set of #2 DPNs. The #1s are occupied (and I need to post a picture of what they're occupied with). The #1s would probably be the best choice for Trekking, but they're not available. I'm leaning toward the #0s because I tend to knit loose, but at this point I'm still rooting through all the Trekking socks on Ravelry trying to see if there's a clear favorite. Actually, there is: the #1s. Ooooops.

ETA: Tried the #0s. They sucked. Frogging and getting out the #2s now. If those suck, I'll just have to wait till I'm finished with the project using the #1s.

The Klingon crud

So I managed to drag my sorry butt to the Customer Spotlight Sale on Saturday, where I made a grand total of... ten bucks.

Oops. I guess people don't need chapstick cozies.

But I had a good time hanging out with Lizardsmells, who sold a ton of her awesome stitch markers, and visiting with other crafters. And overall a lot of money got raised for ovarian cancer research, though I probably would have helped raise more if instead of making my own things, I had used the money I spent on supplies to buy everyone else's lovely wares!

So now the sale is over and I'm free to work on whatever I want to, which would be totally awesome if I actually felt up to knitting. Whatever bug I've got (I'm calling it the Klingon crud) has wiped me out to the point where I needed a nap after watching a basketball game and knitting. Whoa, really intensive activity there. Worse, I've managed to misplace one DPN. I'm close to done on the first Saucy sock (the one I posted a while back) so I'm faking it with four needles until I can get a replacement, which feels weird. I see why StringTheory2.0 keeps pushing the circs. I'd lose my own head if it weren't screwed on.

what I want to do vs. what I need to do, and The Sock Yarn Mania

I've been crocheting exclusively the past few days trying to make things for the Needle Nook's Customer Spotlight sale, which is May 3. That is, this coming Saturday. And I am so not ready. And I am so wondering why I thought this was a good idea. Both StringTheory2.0 and the Mad Husband have informed me that they knew this would happen. I procrastinated, as I tend to do with everything, but I still think I would have come out okay (if you're going to make a habit of procrastinating, you had better be good at it) if I hadn't fallen victim to The Sock Yarn Mania.

And when I speak of The Sock Yarn Mania, I'm not just referring to my own. If it were just my own, it wouldn't have nearly so many capital letters. It seems to be the season of the sock; I hear rumblings about Red Heart and Lion Brand introducing new sock yarns, Malabrigo sock yarn is already on its way, and my friends are constantly telling me about some new sock yarn, frequently indie, that I have to check out... I see lots of people knitting socks at every knit night, and if sock yarn is about to invade the big-box craft stores, The Mania is likely to grow. (And to shatter our illusions that we're cool and hip because we knit socks. As Natalia says, "trends go to Wal-Mart to die.")

This might be me overthinking it, but I wonder if it's these uncertain times that make sock knitting seem like a sensible thing to do. You only need one skein, which can be had for less than you'd spend making all but the cheapest sweaters, and it keeps you occupied for hours. Then you can show off the finished product! I imagine the stalwart matrons of wartime England putting on a kettle of tea and knitting socks while scanning the sky with binoculars. Kind of like Bedknobs and Broomsticks, but substitute knitting for magic. (That would be a very strange knitter cult movie that everyone else would fall asleep during.) Could something in our cultural memory recall schoolchildren knitting socks for the Great War, and thus it makes sense to knit socks, even if they're actually handpainted merino treats for ourselves and those we choose to spoil this way? (I was thinking the ultimate symbol of devotion would be to knit so many socks that the Mad Husband could wear hand-knit socks every day, but I was also thinking that there's biting off more than you can chew, and then there's biting off so much that you choke on it. Anyway, I don't think he wants pink socks and I've got an awful lot of pink sock yarn to knit up...) And it's a sensible way to indulge your passion for colors without getting stuck with a finished sweater that looks like a clown threw up on it.

Or is it all actually the market itself, cleverly playing on our economic worries and suggesting that we can feel good about knitting socks because they're solid and practical... thus absolving ourselves of guilt as we binge on handpainted merino and gleefully reassure each other "it's sock yarn, it doesn't count."

It's not that sock yarn doesn't count as stash. It's just that I have an entire separate stash of sock yarn.

See? Even when I'm refusing to allow myself to knit socks because I need to crochet for the sale, I'm still obsessing over socks. That's just sad. I am so regretting this.

No time for love, Dr. Jones

I am totally in love, or at least in lust, with sock knitting. I frogged the cuff on my Saucy Sock (k3, p1) because I didn't like it, and I'm liking the more conventional k2p2. But alas, I must set aside my lovely socks and get to work, because the Customer Spotlight Sale draws ever closer and I haven't done even a fraction of the work I need to do. Yet I keep surfing The Loopy Ewe and Etsy to look at the pretty, pretty hand-painted sock yarn.

Tonight I got out the hooks and got to work on a smaller version of the Jester Bag. I'm making it with Plymouth Happy Feet, and this stuff is terrific. I'm looking forward to using it for socks at some point. Man, though, now that I know how to knit, crochet just seems to rip through yarn. Maybe that's because it's so much faster, so my ball of yarn is gone that much quicker. The colors are beautiful!

Houston, we have sock!

Hi! I'm a sock!

Sock has personality.


Now I, too, can stick my foot up on the table next to people's food and drink to show off my SOCK!!

Pattern: Universal Toe-Up Sock Formula
Yarn: Numma-Numma Saucy in Marinara

Sock progress

First of all, I've learned never to say "I'm knitting a sock." Because then every smartass in the world will say something along the lines of "just one sock?" and think they're hilarious and oh-so-original. I've even gotten it from my mother. Gee, thanks Mom.

I've learned how to fix my dropped stitches with a crochet hook (thanks Lizardsmells!) and I'm getting better at it, but they still look kinda wonky so I'd rather just not drop them at all. Practice, practice, practice.

Sock yarn is the fiber artist's equivalent of Pokemon. Gotta catch 'em all.

I'm really loving knitting with numma numma Saucy. It's a little splitty, but the fabric is to die for -- wicked soft and I love the interplay of shades of red, pink, and orange. Don't worry, pictures soon. Oh, and when I try on the sock it feels so nice. Okay, I finally get the hand-knitted sock thing.

It's getting much easier to work on the double points. I'm not jabbing myself with the extra needles nearly as much as I was. I have had some issues with letting stitches fall off, but that's where I got the practice at fixing them, so I guess that's not so bad.

I'd say I'm about halfway done with the foot of sock #1. Sadly for my newfound addiction, I'm going to have to set the sock knitting aside in order to make inventory for Needle Nook's Customer Spotlight Sale. It's to raise money for a great cause -- ovarian cancer research -- and I'll be badgering you all to come out and see the cool stuff. Badger badger badger. (Wow, that link just totally freaked out No No Bad Kitty.)

I need to have my head examined.

I frogged the sock.

To tell you the truth, it sort of happened by accident. I'd made a couple of mistakes on the foot, and I was warned I'd be able to feel them when I wore the sock, and I had one on each side so I couldn't just make the side with the mistake the top, so I started frogging, and then I was so close to the toe that I said screw it, I'll start fresh.

I'm now trying yet again. I just finished the toe and started working in the round (joy!). I think I've made fewer mistakes this time around, but I know they're still there. But I'm pretty determined that I need to finish this sock come hell or high water. Otherwise I'll never learn anything about knitting a sock start to finish.

At this point, my only hope is that the sock is wearable.

In other news, I like knitting with double points (bamboo, baby!), but I don't like dealing with the three double points I'm not knitting with. I guess I'll get used to it. It'll build character.

can't sleep, sock will eat me

Now that I'm about three inches into the sock, I'm starting to feel like I know what I'm doing. Which means I'm starting to see the mistakes I've made. And the insane stubborn perfectionist voice in my head wants to ditch it and start over and do it better this time. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right, right?

The sensible voice in my head says this is a ridiculous idea, because even if I do the toe right this time I'm bound to screw up on the heel. Because it'll be the first heel I've ever made. Just like this is the first toe I ever made.

Natalia said I should just keep going and I "can always make this first sock into a foul-mouthed sock puppet." I like this idea.

Stupid cast-ons

The good news is I'm making my progress on my first sock.

The bad news is everything else.

Eve valiantly endeavored to teach me Judy's Magic Cast-On today. Multiple times. I could just not get the hang of it. Maybe it's because I was working on dpns rather than circulars, but first I couldn't get the loops to interlock, and then once I finally managed that, I couldn't manage to knit between the two -- it was too tight. I think the most I got was six stitches before the whole thing fell apart.

After watching me rip, curse, and try again for about an hour and a half, Eve pronounced me "stubborn as a mule." I told her that was one of the nicest compliments I'd gotten in quite a while.

The provisional cast-on as directed in Knitty's Toe-Up Sock Formula drove me crazy (me not liking a crochet cast-on? There is clearly a disturbance in the Force) so I was really hoping the Magic Cast-On would do the trick. Curses, foiled again.

So the upshot of all this is I've decided wrap-and-turn toes aren't so bad after all. I'll have to post a picture of my first one so you can see what happens when you forget to slip a stitch on the second half of the toe. I might have frogged it and tried again if I weren't already so sick of frogging, but since this is my first sock and I know it's going to have mistakes no matter what, I decided to suck it up. Lizardsmells tells me that's easy enough to fix. (Oh, there is good news! I got to hang out with Lizardsmells which definitely makes me cooler than you are. Envy me!)

Oh, and in other bad news, the tip of one of my #1 dpns has been chewed on. *looks meaningfully at No No Bad Kitty*

Why did I think this was a good idea?

I've been absent lately owing to my inexplicable desire to knit some socks.

First of all, sock yarn is crack. I think the fascination with socks on my part is mostly so I can justify buying lots of pretty sock yarn in outrageous colorways. Who was it that pointed out that you can get away with color combinations in socks that would blind you in a sweater? I'm going to have to go on another yarn diet. Sadly I'll probably be sick of all these pretty colors by the time they're all made into socks, but, well, whatcha gonna do? At least with socks you only have to buy one skein to finish a project, even if it is a $20 skein. Three pairs of socks are still cheaper than a sweater and will probably provide hours more entertainment. And being entertained means I'm not running to the LYS. I hope.

I picked Knitty's Universal Toe-Up Sock Formula as my first sock pattern -- straightforward enough, custom fit, seemed like a good introduction. Well, it is a good introduction to sock knitting -- the frogging, swearing, and wondering how the hell these stitches are ever going to resemble a foot parts of sock knitting. I've lost count of how many times I've ripped out this thing and started over.

I had probably the most issues with knitting the double-wrapped stitches, but Eve and this utterly adorable little book called Knitspeak helped. I think I know what I'm doing now -- well, at least I thought I did, until a few minutes ago, but I'm tired and I'm hoping it'll look better in the morning. I sure hope so. This thing is finally resembling a toe and if I have to frog it I think I'll cry.

Home again, home again

The good news is, I'm back. The bad news is, I brought the Mad In-Laws strain of viral bronchitis with me. This means I have no energy and can't really do anything that involves being away from my bed for more than an hour. That's okay though... I have plenty of yarn.

(Interrupting this post to bring you Breaking News: I really can't believe how much I enjoy knitting on these tiny little bamboo DPNs. Oh wait, that's only news to me. Carry on.)

Through the wonder of Google I learned a fast and easy way to swatch "in the round." I spent most of my knitting time on the trip swatching the Trekking, and NeedleNut said it looked ready to go, so I could be starting on socks for the Mad Husband right now... if I hadn't misplaced my tape measure. Again. I'm starting to wonder if I should invest in one of those really nice decorative tape measures because maybe if I spent that much on something I'd make more of an effort not to lose it. On the other hand, anything that would cut into the yarn budget is questionable, and I'm not sure if it would even work anyway. By the way, Trekking is much nicer than I used to think it was when I saw other people working with it. It's nice and soft and the color changes are awesome.

So since I can't start his socks yet, I'm doing another fake-in-the-round swatch with Saucy. This stuff is sooo nice and now I really want to hurry up and make it into socks before I switch to sandals for the summer. I'm really starting to understand why so many people claim sock yarn doesn't count as stash.

By the way, Good Kitty is delighted with our return and is requesting lots of pets and lovin'. No No Bad Kitty is... well, being bad. She stopped just long enough to scarf down the guilt treats, including Good Kitty's share. Good Kitty was uninterested in said treats because her love is freely given, not bought. Whoops, gotta go, No No Bad Kitty is trying to eat the Saucy. It's just called Marinara, you dumb cat!

I confess

Light Wading called it. I'm not going to make Fuzzy Feet.

GottaKnit made a really convincing case for Fuzzy Feet as a first sock project: it's felted directly to the feet, so there's a lot of leeway. But while talking with Natalia, she said "if you made them, would you ever wear them?" And the answer is totally no. The designer lives in Norway, but I live in Atlanta and I already run to hot. Full booties like that, in wool to boot? My feet would sweat and it would be gross. The Mad Husband might like that. Hey, maybe that's an idea for an anniversary gift -- fuzzy slippers personally felted to his feet while he plays video games? Yeah, I think that beats paper.

But yeah. I agree in principle that it's good to start with all the basics and then build on them, like a set of blocks. But honestly, I can't think of a way to lose interest in knitting faster than making myself knit a garter-stitch scarf. (I'm not the only one who thinks garter stitch is ugly and bumpy when used as a main stitch pattern rather than an accent, am I?) I practiced the knit a lot before I learned the purl, I purled a lot before I learned to cast off, and I tried knitting some increases and decreases in scrap yarn just to get used to them, but then I had to start a project. For me there's just no other way to learn how to swim. And I think I'm learning a lot more from trying things in a pattern, where they do stuff and I can see how they work with each other, than just practicing them into a void. Plus, a finished object I can actually use and show off is always a good motivator.

This is all a long way of me saying, I bought my first DPNs tonight. Bamboo, two sets, sizes 0 and 1, from Needle Nook. I thought about taking a learn-to-make-socks class, but that called for worsted weight yarn and I just don't want to make worsted-weight socks right now. I was flipping through Into the Wild, and Krakauer's prose is seductive about the joys of doing crazy things, and socks on DPNs seems like a reasonably crazy thing to do that doesn't involve anything actually unpleasant or dangerous. As long as I remember not to sit on the DPNs.

I want socks.

The day I started learning to knit, I came home and was sitting on the couch trying to knit and failing when the Mad Husband turned to me and said hopefully "So. Knitted socks?" (That night he also told me to give StringTheory2.0 a message to teach me better so I wouldn't be so cranky, but I digress.)

And now I'm thinking "yeah, socks." NeedleNut said "Mad Crocheter, no" but I can't help it. I keep thinking about socks. Light Wading is always so happy with her socks. And I bet if I made the Mad Husband some socks, I might even get taken out to the Brazilian steakhouse or something. (Screw flowers. For me, the epitome of romance is the Brazilian steakhouse.)

And I don't just want socks, I want real socks. Made with pretty sock yarn. I don't wanna make big bulky worsted weight socks.

I know GottaKnit said I should wait on the socks and my first socks should be Fuzzy Feet. Intellectually I know she's totally right but I'm being all pouty about it anyway. I can't exactly show off Fuzzy Feet to everyone I meet during a day. Which will lead to me fishing for compliments from the cats. "See, No No Bad Kitty? Aren't Mommy's Fuzzy Feet awesome? ...No, don't eat it."

So where should I start? I'm debating ordering the Tsarina of Tsocks' Learn to Knit Socks Kit, but maybe I should start simpler than that. Like figuring out how to knit in the round. Okay, I promise I'll try and do the Fuzzy Feet first.

Not according to plan

I was dead beat when I got home tonight and just wanted some really easy crochet to work on. Somehow I ended up with the Looks Knit Great Fit socks. In retrospect, I don't think "really easy crochet" and "socks" belong in the same sentence.

Originally I was worried the socks were going to come out too small; now it seems like the left one (the only one that's gotten past the cuff) is probably going to be too big. And I should have learned more about the anatomy of socks before getting started. I'm not sure where the heel flap is supposed to end. Does it go to the bottom of the heel and then stop? What if I don't have the right number of rows yet? Normally I'd probably set about experimenting and making it up at this point, but it's been a long week and I'm tired. And I don't think I have any mindless crochet projects currently going, aside from a baby blanket that I'm just not in the mood for.

I'm wondering if I should just frog the whole thing and start over. I think making that decision tonight would qualify as rash, though. I guess I'll just go back to screwing around on Ravelry. Carpenoctem invited me to co-moderate the lazy, stupid, and godless group (intentionally lowercase because we're too lazy to capitalize), founded to mess with those who declare anyone who occasionally enjoys a good swear as "lazy, stupid, and godless." It's off to a smashing start!

Sock stress

So last night I finished the second cuff of the Looks Knit Great Fit socks. Then I stared at them in delight for a while because they're just the same size. Then I looked at the next part of the pattern and that's when I started getting nervous. Heel flap? I'm not even sure what a heel flap is, exactly, and I've been wearing socks my whole life! This is going to be the hard part, I can tell already. I've kinda lost the gauge because I had to make the cuffs bigger to fit me, so I'm not even sure that the directions will hold water now.

But I will persevere. Because socks may be intimidating, but the Panda Silk is worth it. The socks, they will be mine. Muahahahahahaaa.

The joy of sox

I'm really starting to understand why so many of my knitting friends are obsessed with socks:

• They're portable.
• Sock yarn comes in all sorts of wild colorways that might be scary in sweaters, but are fun in socks.
• You can splurge on the good yarn because you only need a ball or two.
• You get hundreds of yards out of that ball which will keep you busy (and hopefully not buying yarn) for a while.

While I admired my friends' socks, I didn't think I was interested in making them myself, because for me socks are boring and utilitarian. I don't even really have my own socks -- the Mad Husband and I share a large stockpile of black socks because they match our shoes. But now I get it. Handmade socks are beautiful little works of art.

The Looks Knit Great Fit socks are made in the opposite direction of most of the socks I've seen knitters working on -- you start with the cuff. Luckily I'd learned a lot about how important to try socks on as you go by watching those knitters, so that didn't come as a surprise. Camanomade suggested making the two cuffs first so I could make sure they're the same size, so now I'm happily hooking away on cuff #2. I was so excited when I reached the point where I understood how this big flat piece I was working on would become the cuff. It sort of clicked and now I'm all sorts of excited to see how these turn out.

Though frankly, even if the pattern weren't making sense to me, I'd still be enthralled because of the Panda Silk. I might marry this yarn if I weren't already taken.

Snow and socks

This morning I looked outside and much to my Southern joy, it was snowing! Sticking, even. Snow is always a cause for panic and celebration in the South. Panic because we don't know what we're doing and can't drive in snow and must all run to the grocery to buy milk, eggs, and bread if snow is predicted. Even if we don't even use milk, eggs, and bread. It's a tradition. And celebration because everything in the South tends to shut down at the sight of snow. And we Southerners sure do like to sit in nice warm houses and look at the snow and/or go outside and play in the snow (though it's rare that we have enough snow for a snowman). And it always melts before we have to shovel it or anything unpleasant like that. So to us it's just fun. Hopefully now this makes a little more sense to those from regions with lots of snow. I hear snow gets old really fast when you have it six months out of the year.

Of course the snow is a little less exciting because it's happening during a three-day weekend.

Even so, I did venture outside in the snow because I managed to lose my I hook this week and I can't do any work on my Crochet Chocolate Top without one. Can you believe that pattern is from Moda Dea? They're making some real progress, I think. I'm doing it in Blue Sky Alpacas Dyed Cotton which is like crocheting with a big fluffy cloud.

Of course this is where the problems started because Needle Nook has a $10 debit card minimum and the hook was only $2.25. Luckily (or unluckily for my supposed yarn diet), I fell in love with Crystal Palace Panda Silk sock yarn in the jade colorway. It was so pretty and soft, and also machine washable, which Alpaca Sox is not. I'd wondered if alpaca socks might be too warm for Atlanta, so I think you can tell what happened: I got the Panda Silk and I'm going to frog the Alpaca Sox and use the Panda Silk instead.

I hope I didn't give the impression last night that I didn't have faith in the Looks Knit Great Fit pattern. I do. It's myself I'm worried about. But I know I've got other great crocheters to lean on (including the designer -- luv ya, Fearless Leader!), and I want to have cool socks to stick on the table at Knitch too. So here I go. It's 408 yards of sock yarn, I've got a crockpot full of chili, half a clue what I'm doing, it's snowing and I'm wearing glasses. Hit it!

You're never too old to break some rules.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."

This is an excellent piece of advice which often in my life I have considered and then ignored. Only I used to ignore it in regards to boys in berets and drinks that glow in the dark. Now I'm ignoring it to crochet socks.

Let's have a moment of silence for my misspent youth. Man, it was fun!

Truth be told, I may have gotten married and developed a bum knee, but right now the thing that's making me feel the oldest is that I was supposed to be out tonight swilling margaritas and instead I stayed home to crochet.

So yeah. Back to the crocheted socks before someone starts screaming at me for claiming to be old.

I've actually agreed with a few knitters that knit is better than crochet for some things and socks are one of them, but I should make a least a token effort to keep a new year's resolution. Plus lately a whole bunch of hookers over at the Crochet Liberation Front and other assorted crochet spots have been talking about crocheting socks all of a sudden, so I can always blame the peer pressure.

Truth is, I have no idea if these crocheted socks will even be wearable. But I have to try. I have the Looks Knit, Great Fit crocheted sock pattern from Laurie Wheeler (also known as the Fearless Leader and Big Cheese of the CLF) and some very pretty Alpaca Sox yarn (I needed one more skein to bump my order up to free shipping).

I'm not at all confident this will work, but I have nothing to lose. All together now: It's just yarn!

And if nothing else, working with that C hook is going to be good practice for when I get around to keeping the new year's resolution about lace. Wow, that hook is small.