The To Do List and the Want To Do List

Somehow, there is a wide gulf between those two right now.

I have reluctantly set aside the partially completed Shetland Lace Socks, the completely not begun Frankensocks, and the I-have-no-idea-how-the-Panda-Wool-yarn-for-these-socks-slipped-in-with-my-Crystal-Palace-order Hearts & Shamrock socks.

(I also set aside the BSJ plans

and Silly Bunny, as I am now quite ex with the ex-b'friend and apparently family would feel awkward receiving gifts. Oh well, I'll save them for others.)

And I must say, bistickually crafty me feels quite virtuous for having set aside the socks-for-me projects, as 'tis the season of To Do Lists.

And what do I have to do?

Eight Snow Zombies to finish. (Though most of them can be finished while the Things are away at their dad’s this Christmas.) Particularly must try to finish the snow zombies for Carolina and for my dad—I think I have figured out how to make him a wee John Deere hat and felted snow shovel—as those must be mailed.

Red Hat Bag and Hat. My mother is a Red Hatter. Not the benign, quiet type of Red Hatter who trots out once in awhile for tea served in a delicate china cup and a few dainty lemon pastries. Nope, my mom and her friends are still party girls, and she was able to customize her request for party gear. That made us both happy; she, because she will be getting exactly what she wants, and I, because I will be knitting something that I have no doubt the recipient wants.

Socks for Dad. Because my dad is the sort of person who needs warm socks.

Snowflake Shawl. Again for Carolina. I’m taking a pattern from Heirloom Afghans to Knit & Crochet and crocheting it with not-quite-lace weight but technically Lion Brand Superfine LB 1878. I’m crossing my fingers I can jam it into the mailer (there are very specific mailer size limitations). I’m completely winging it—just using the blanket pattern and tweaking as I go to make it shawl shaped. I hope it turns out nicely.

A train decorated hat, mitten and scarf set. This needs to be lined

not to mention it needs duplicate stitched trains on the mittens. And I need to make the matching scarf, which will be blue on one side and red on the other. Must finish before Thing Four outgrows both coat that these things match and any interest in trains.

Ditto. Also must make a gray and orange striped hat and scarf to match Thing Three's coat (Lesson has been learned with hats and this type of yarn, though. Thing is getting a double knit hat. No more lining of hats for Mom.)

One more Marie Mayhew. And, last but not least, I'm following the German tradition that a nest in a Christmas tree brings luck to the family. Better definitely get my luck done.

Yes, yes, not a big list, but I won’t win any competitions for speed knitting and crocheting here, you know? In fact, if there were a speed limit for knitters and crocheters, I’m the one that would get pulled over and ticketed for going 20 mph under.

The fun of knitting things for others is unparalleled, though somewhat dampened by the knowledge that everyone is going to be getting this stuff slightly to seriously late.

C'est la vie.

The Want To Do List? (i.e. the list in which I get in quickly over my head.)

This shawl. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. I have been in love with this shawl for ages. And Halcyon Yarns in Maine carries the fiber. (Unfortunately, the yarn price has not been in love with me. Ah well.)

This blanket, Babette, which got me completely hooked on Interweave Crochet. (Um, pun mostly not intended.) It, if I remember correctly, has the same yarn price non-love issues with me as the shawl. Though in fairness to both projects, they're not that pricey. I'm just a single mom with four Things, is all.

Winter Twilight Mitts using this yarn

Thing Two and I are going to knit a pair each, one using black for the background color, the other using the wild multi for background. They may turn out totally bizarre and un-wearable, but we are going to have some seriously fun knit nights.

Waves of Grain, because I want to learn how to knit with beads and I think I could do enough repeats to make it a smallish shawl.

The Dollar and a Half cardigan by Veronik Avery. If this is way above my level, shhhh. Don’t tell me. I am operating under the premise that knitting is composed of two stitches, and having mastered those two stitches, I can therefore learn to do just about anything. Please do not disturb my delusions. Thank you.

(Oh, and I just glanced at the skill level when I added the link! Easy!!! Bwa ha ha ha, I am so there!)

Gromit.

(Gromit is the patron saint of all knitting, Canine SAR volunteer wannabes, I'm telling you.)

And last but not least, it would be seriously cool to do The Rockin' Sock Club. It's the ultimate sock knitting adventure (well, one of them, anyway).

Maybe in 2010...

Last post of May (Technically)

This has become the blog that should have been. It was all thought up and ready to go (well, except for minor details like, say, typing it) when some terrific storm cells marched through the area. Between the hail, intermittent lightning and tornado sirens, somehow posting seemed neither the safest nor the most logical of choices at the time.

So, do me a favor, okay? Pretend it's Saturday while you're reading this. I'll even adjust the date, if that will help.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.

I. Am. Tired.

You'll get more on the trip over the next few days. Suffice to say, I made it to my friend's place, made it to the interview and said things of an interviewish nature, then returned to the friend's place, where I was treated to Chinese at a local restaurant (excellent), Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull (okay) and mad packing for an equally mad return trip (much more eventful than the trip out). There are stories to tell. But not now.

Now I just want to sleep. I was pleased with the pack for the trip situation, though. Here's how the ginormous amount of "keep busy" stuff was used:

Books--Three read and the fourth well into. Only two extraneous. Pretty good for roughly three days on the road, all told.

Magazines--Both read cover to cover. Interesting, though I could have read more lace history in Piecework and not been bored.

CDs and movies--Bit of a bummer. The mini-DVD player only held a charge for about two hours, max. Never have I mourned my iPodless state more.

Extra yarn for corrupting kiddies--No kiddies above 2 years in my immediate vicinity, darn it. So I corrupted the only other people available.

Stanley decided to crochet a scarf like Stanley's, while Stanley-with-the-scarf-already-done thought a blanket might be nice, as he will be visiting the United Arab Emeritus, France and possibly Ireland this summer. Stanley-with-the-scarf fell victim to the purl-without-paying-attention syndrome and decided to keep it in as part of the design pattern. While I'm not sure about it myself, I felt letting him have his creative freedom was more important than my measly opinion, especially as he did a crochet edge for the whole thing as well. Thing 3 approved (as did Thing 4 with Stanley's scarf).

And hey, the dudes finished their first solo projects. Way to go, S & S! (Yes, there are no limits to the odd ways in which I will attempt to amuse myself while on a long trip.)

The sock monkey butt socks were finished. (It's Sockina Cotton #03/Garden, btw.)

And I do mean were. While taking the picture you are currently viewing, I realized that with the Kitchener stitch, I had (uh-duh; I did mention I'm a newb, right?) created an extra row of pinkish-tan, making the band before the toe slightly bigger on one sock.

I'd like to say that anal-retentive me did not grumble and fret that everyone who looked at my feet any time I wore them would notice and mock me for my only slightly-off-match-up on the socks. I'd really like to say that I did not frog back, with lots of muttering and cursing of my own self for weaving in ends far more thoroughly than I'd ever thought myself capable of and that I am not now sitting with a toe-less sock waiting patiently for me to get back to it and its short rows with its purl and knit encroachments (we loves the encroachments, we do; total fun).

I'd like to say that. So, er, let's just pretend that I did, shall we? Thanks ever so much.

I did the provisional cast on for the Leyburn,

but quickly realized that I did not have a small enough crochet hook with me and the toe was coming out with stitches that were a bit more open than I would want in a sock when I stretched it.

I also realized that I'd made a fatal error in checking out the different Leyburns being done by Raverly people, and that I actually, truly and really wanted to do the Ley's in variegated yarn. Socks that Rock (Cracked Canyon in process with Zeitgeist Yarns--Ravelry link--and another colorway which had some bright white in it--bwa ha, just double checked--Knitters Without Borders knitted up by the YH) were what really caught my eye.

So...I'm definitely still doing the Leyburns, but I've decided to check out Socks that Rock and go with a colorway that looks Leyburny/Me-ish to me. Especially as a quick peek confirmed that Cracked Canyon isn't available. Maybe it was her stash, or maybe part of the current Socks that Rock Club. (We wants to do the STRC someday, we do, we do.) Meanwhile, I found more possibilities than I needed to by running over to the Blue Moon Fiber Arts site. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing...

With my pretty purple yarn, I'll be doing this the Shetland Lace Rib Sock (free pattern by Marguerite Byrne). I'm looking forward to experimenting with lace and learning a new heel. I think the color and the lace patterning will complement each other extremely well.

Until next time, when you'll either hear about trip news (delays, exciting Stanley and Stanley moments and young love) or a bunny butt (yep, a bunny butt).

All Packed Up & Someplace to Go

The blog and I will be away for a bit. We're road-tripping to a state far, far away for a job interview.

Whilst packing for this, I decided, virtuously, to use this bag as my carry on:

My ex-boyfriend gave me this bag, and when he sent it, he didn't say, "Here's a small hiking backpack." He said, "I found you a good knitting bag for when you go kayaking." Dude understood.

Anyway, I was sure that this smaller bag would force me to pack less, as I tend to over-pack just a tad.

Turns out I was wrong. Instead, I became the uber-packer. I managed to add most of the following:

Lots of books because 1) who knows what I will be in the mood to read and 2) I read rather abnormally fast. I finally caved and chose a few for the suitcase; I'll switch them out on the way home.

Some magazines (Hey, only two, okay? And they're both, er, educational...)

Lots of movies, books on tape and CDs (thank goodness for those DVD cases that hold three movies each!) because (again) who knows which movie I will feel like watching, and if I'm knitting, I'll have to have something to listen to, right? And yes, I know having an iPod would make my life easier. Let's not add to my iPod envy, okay?

Two sets of socks, one set almost finished, one set not yet begun.

And, um, one mystery knit project; just in case, you know? I doubt I'll need but, but...well, what if I do?? But I was good; I packed that one in the suitcase! The French version of Fred Vargas went to the case as well. I'm too keyed up to attempt to decipher French. That'll be a ride home challenge instead.

Two Stanleys of a flatish nature (Thing 3's and Thing 4's contribution to the chaos).

And most importantly:

Items to corrupt the uninitiated short people of the world. Plus patterns. I have no shame.

(In my defense, I could argue that this could actually be more for self-protection, you know. I've taken my knitting and crocheting to every class at which I've substituted and if they are kids between the ages of two and eight, they want to do it as well. Note to all: it has always, without exception, been the boys who were first to ask to be taught and who knitted or crocheted the most on whatever project I had in my hands. We have to talk to whoever is in charge of stereotypes.)

So, the blog and I will try to update you mid-trip if we can. Otherwise, see you next week!

Sunday, Catholic-style Guilt--A Day Late

Yes, it's Monday. For another hour and forty-eight more minutes, anyway.

And no, I'm not Catholic. I'm Lutheran. But ask anyone who has attended Lutheran schools growing up and if they're honest, here's how they'll define a Lutheran:

We're disgruntled Catholics.

Sure we threw out purgatory, Latin, and those pesky saints (though we keep them for our school names, a dichotomy I've never quite figured out) and other such things we couldn't be bothered with, but we kept the guilt.

And here the blog promised, away and far ago, updates on the ongoing projects. (This was before the blog took a job-hunting hiatus. You know how busy blogs can get.)

Puesdo-Catholic guilt hit hard on Sunday (as all good guilt should) and thus produced results with me on Monday (my life tends to work like that).

So, pictures and updates.

Totally unblogged but were-meant-to-be blogged baby hats for charity for the Yarn Harlot's Tour. I knitted two, Thing Two knitted one (the blue one, if you couldn't guess).

Mind you, I didn't actually get to see the YH speak. I was at Thing Four's vocal concert with Thing Three keeping me company in the audience. (Songs and poems that were all about food. Not to be missed.) Thing Two, with Thing One as a non-knitter chaperone, went in my stead to laugh. (And even Thing One found the talk funny. That gives me hope. He's the only one I have left to corrupt...)

The pretty, pretty self-patterning sock yarn did arrive at the YH event in time for the signing, though, and it had its photo op. (Please ignore the non-Harlot person in that picture. Not only does she suffer from frozen smile-itis each time a camera is pointed in her direction, she also has been experiencing what can only be termed as a bad hair lifetime.)

The train hat, in its third and final incarnation, with some previously unblogged mitten buddies. Both hat and mittens, especially mittens, are already much battered by winter wearings (since winter went long this year), a tendency of the Bernat yarn to pill and many tussles between the mittens and their Velcro-ized brethren in the mitten bin. (Damn Velcro anyway. We hates it, we do.) So yeah, I should have gotten pictures the day they were done and still shiny and new. I guess I can say they look well-loved instead, right?

The mittens, of which 1 and 3/4 were knit in one bizarrely fast--for me--day (last 1/4 completed the next day), aren't technically done. They still need the trains duplicate stitched on. (That should be fun as all get out. Anybody want to guess the number of times I'll fuse the two sides of the mittens together? Me neither.) I promised to line them as well. Midwestern winter winds are cold. And of course, he's getting a tubular scarf, one side red, one side blue, trains across each end in the same pills-from-hell producing yarn.

Maybe I'll make him a whole new set this summer. The pillish ones can be backup.

Hat for the daughter. Yeah, I snuck that one in. First official cable job. Discovered something there. I can have a glass of wine or two and cable blithely along. I cannot cable and chat at a family gathering at the same time, though. Not. At. All.

The pretty, pretty self-patterning yarn. Again. Apparently its appearance with the Yarn Harlot wasn't enough. It wants more face time. (Quite the blog pig, if you ask me. I guess I shouldn't tell it that Thing Two and I have named it the Sockey Monkey Butt Socks, because the heel reminds of said part of a sock monkey's anatomy--hey, it sounded funnier than Sock Monkey face/mouth/nose socks. We tried all variations, just to be sure. Sock Monkey Butt Socks was the decided fav.)

And bwa ha ha! I have defeated SSS; see? There's the second and all it's fighting now is the deadline knitting. (The since finished birthday shawl and bookmark; the definitely NOT finished baby-to-be-birthdate gift and gift for baby-to-be's big sis, whom I suspect will be a bit put off at the interloper moving in on her grandparent adoration territory. She's getting a bunny with a trousseau that is beginning to make me jealous. Someone hit me on the head with stitch dictionary the next time I get grandiose ideas, okay?)

What makes me happy, though, is that I managed to match up the patterning; I was only one stitch off (and was able to hide that one white stitch on the cuff with the dark tail of the yarn). This means that I don't have to count rows; when the pattern gets past the next block of pinkish tan, I switch to my heel work.

My little Frankensocks, made from yarn which is not really sockish in nature. Erm. Yes. Well. The two-at-once Frankensocks are still on the agenda, but not on the needles. I decided to practice with cheapo yarn in different colors. This, I felt, would make me more confident when having to switch back and forth with yarn that looked the same. And so they've been pushed even farther down the line, what with deadline knitting and de-feeting SSS (ha ha ha).

But I've got a long bus trip coming up and miles to go before I sleep (probably rather literally) and...

well....

Frankensocks may have competition.

I feel disgruntled-Catholic guilt coming on big time.

The only question is, should I feel guilty about doing the Leyburn pattern or the Froot Loop pattern?

Alexander & Relativity

Call me Alexander.

Ok, not quite the opener that "call me Ishmael" is, but then, I'm not out hunting white whales. Instead I'm having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Hence, today my name is Alexander.

Only my day isn't quite as traumatic as that stalwart hero of kiddie lit. I got to sit in the seat I wanted in the car (I mean, hey, I'm the driver) and I don't pay enough attention to what I put on my feet to care if I get the tennis shoes I wanted.

No, it was really just one thing that set me off. Granted, since the one thing had the code word "ex" in it, it was, in typical ex fashion, a bit more serious than minor (Although a total goof on the ex's part, it nonetheless represented serious hassle for me. It fit the pattern for us.).

I even slammed a door. In 99.9% of my life, I am not a door slammer. My kids suddenly became extraordinarily well-behaved and quiet (to be fair to them, although this doesn't happen often, it does happen a lot more than .1% of the time).

I needed to calm down, so I went to get groceries, even though such a move represented a complete lack of logic on my part. No biggie; I live to be illogical.

So off I went. Once outside, I peeled off my gloves. It was in the 20s (Fahrenheit), and gloves felt too warm.

If you think I'm out of my ever-loving mind, I hasten to point out that it had been between -20 F and -30 F for much of the week. Forty to 50 degree hikes in the temperature tend to skew your perspective.

Starting the car, I realized that my kids had been incredulous that other kids long ago had gone to school in 20-or-so degree weather with no coats because the day was so "warm" and had then perished in one the worst blizzards to ever hit the Midwest. How could anyone think 20 degrees was warm? To say they scoffed would be putting it mildly. After one winter here, they now complain that they are hot when it gets to twenty, though after hearing the stories of the people in the book, they keep the coats on. (The book in which I read about this storm is called The Childrens' Blizzard, by David Laskin. It's heart-breaking, gripping, and never once does the author show anything less than the deepest compassion for the people about whom he was writing. Check him out.)

Is 20 degrees warm, or cold? It's all a matter of perspective (sorry, but it just sounds too hippy to say, "It's all relative, man." Maybe using dude instead would help?). I started mulling over the idea of relativity. (Well, kind of. It's a short drive to the grocery store, only six minutes or so. But I think quickly. Well, kind of.).

Relativity is the state of being dependent for existence on or determined in nature, value, or quality by relation to something else (thank you Merriam-Webster Online for the nifty definition). I wondered. Does that mean if I look at everything in a positive light, then the positive aspects of the situation become more relative than the negative?

Ok, maybe I think too quickly to be either logical or coherent, but bear with me.

For example, what if I looked at everything from the perspective that the fact that the person who peeved me so badly today is now at least only doing so once a month, rather than on a several times a day basis? This is progress, of a sort, especially when I consider that there are several wonderful states between us. So, be angry today, or just be thankful that today is the only day he made me angry?

This is rather Zen thinking, especially for me. I tend to mutter and freak and mutter some more when angry. And I did do that. Just not for as long as usual, which was odd, considering the bind said person inadvertently placed me in—and then had been too irresponsible to rectify.

I decided to enter the grocery store in this rather, not happy, exactly, but kind of detached accepting state, and see what happened. It was crowded and rather than running over slow moving little old ladies or kids with no cart control, I was patient. I moved serenely through the crowds (Have I mentioned I hate being in crowds? Especially if I have no knitting or crocheting in my hands?).

After I got the food, I wandered past the magazine rack to look for the knitting magazines. This, you understand, is an exercise in futility. I've never seen a knitting magazine there. (Oh, I'm sorry. I should have warned you to sit down first.) Crochet? Yes, thankfully. Quilting? Check. Beading? Plenty. Knitting? None. Ever.

What did I find today? Interweave Knits. Three days before it was supposed to be out on the newsstand. Three whole days early, where it had never been before.

It was a relativistic sign. I knew what I had to do.

I went to do the impossible. The especially impossible on a day which has just had a serious terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day hole blown right into it.

I went to find solid yarn to match the yarn that probably-shouldn't-be-used-for-socks-but-I'm-using-it-to-knit-my-little-Frankensocks-anyway yarn.

Did I find what I was hoping for? It's all relative, dude. (Hmm, not sure about that either…)

Besides, my skeins and I are reading the Knitting and Fine Art column right now. It's one of our favorites. We'll report back later, complete with pics. Until then, feel free to write in your own happy ending. Just give me a different name than Alexander, if you don't mind.

A Tale of Two (Different) Socks

I have finally taken the leap into sock making. (Christmas stockings, while a good dry run, really don't count; if they turn out too huge, people love them even more. Extra loot capacity, you know). I found a yarn I am so in love with that it's a wonder that everyone around me doesn't gouge out their eyes at the sight of it, I've banged on about it so much.



But look. See the pretty patterning on the swatch? How could one not be totally enamored of the pretty patterning? I mean to say.

I even found the perfect pattern/tutorial online at Hipknitism.com that very nicely walks all non-mathematical people (that would be me, in case you were wondering) through the math so that they can create a uniquely them sock, rather than said newbie casting on a "follow me completely pattern" and discovering that they have a) knit a sock that could easily double as a leg length tourniquet should they be in the mood to get rid of a leg they really didn't care for anyway or b) scrambling to find a charity which sends socks to needy elephants.

And really, this is a basic ribbed sock that encourages you to do what you want for ribbing pattern (so long as it matches your math) and leaves you free to choose.

It's a very me pattern.

The problem?

I've done just a bit over an inch and I'm already bored with ribbing (okay, okay, so maybe I'll do a bit more, just to keep the socks from falling into a puddle around my ankles). I read far too much to suspect I have the attention span of gnat, but there it is. I want to do….something else. I love this yarn, even if it is cotton. I can't hold its cotton-ness against it. I want it to be spectacular even if it turns out that despite my best efforts into the realm of numbers I can't get the sock on past my toes. If I fail, I want to fail beautifully.

So, suggestions? If there are any knitters out there reading this (even one) please, I beg of you, give me some ideas. I want something that will stun and amaze all without detracting from the self-patterning, er, pattern.

There is (dare I admit it?), one small flaw with the perfect yarn. Just one. Tiny, really.
Despite my best efforts at trying to match up the yarn from the center and the outside of the skein so I could do this totally cool old-technique-made-new-again a.k.a Kory Stamper's knitting two socks at one time (I know all about SSS. I've read "the literature"), I couldn't get the freakin' colors to match. At all. I finally gave up, stuffed the yarn back into the center of the ball (no way that will tangle, I'm sure) and decided that if I really wanted to try this technique, I'd, well, have to get some more yarn.

I bought this:

Now, ok, the not so knitterly new among the whopping three of you who read this are no doubt trying to think of a way to tactfully say a few things. Let me help you along.

Don't you think that yarn is a bit, well, thick for a sock? How do you think it will behave as a fabric? Or, come to that, how do you think you will put on your shoes?

It's the colors' faults. The colors! Blame them for attracting me and insisting that they wanted to be socks, even if it turns out that is totally unrealistic of them. Really. Besides, have I perchance mentioned that it's freakin' cold here? My shoes are old, they can stretch. I have no sympathy for the shoes. I want warm feet and I don't want to wait until summer.

If it makes you feel better, we can call this a slipper sock. Just imagine that I will sew one of those leather wannabe soles to the bottom. Not that I have any plans on doing so as that would mess up the look of the cool solid colored heel and toe I'll be doing (said solid to be purchased after I decide which stripe color is my favorite) but you can imagine all you want if it will make you feel happier.

You do realize that at that gauge you'll have to cast on so few stitches that you'll be in danger of impaling yourself each time you turn a corner on your (cough) dpns.

Yes, well. I'm a knitter on the edge. Give me the pointy sticks that make me feel as if I've gotten somewhere with each needle rather than mindlessly chasing myself in a circle. I'll take my chances with impalement.

You've bare faced admitted you were a newb. And you want to try double knitting these? Two socks at once? Why??

Go read Kory Stamper's article. She uses pen drawn happy and sad faces on her fingers to show you what's right and what's wrong. Peeking their wee little faces out between good stitches (happy face!) and bad stitches (looking oh so sorry for you) that mean you've fused your work together. And then she kindly tells you how to de-fuse—sorry, couldn't resist. How could you not want to try the technique?! I mean, it's a seriously cool, motivational visual aid, that. They are very encouraging little fingers.

Have you thought about the fact that with needles that small and yarn that thick you will soon be reduced to a gibbering idiot because you'll probably splitting your yarn with each stitch (and have you wondered if the good Lord gave you a brain, period)?

I have accepted the fact that this yarn splits into more pieces than a cookie that four Things are trying to divide equally. At least in some places. In others? Bwaa ha ha, I'm knitting on!

Gibbering, after a certain point, is actually rather soothing. You should try it.

(oh, and I've spoken with God and He's assured me He will get back to me on that last question as soon as is Omnipotently possible. Seems He's rather busy at the mo. War. Famine. Intolerance by Group A for everybody in Groups B-Z who do not believe or live or love exactly as they do. You know. Basically even bigger acts of human brainlessness than me attempting to make this yarn into socks.)

Thus herein lies, for now, the end of the tale of two (different) socks. Perhaps you'll hear more (if you don't want to, don't click on this blog. Easy, right?)

And if any of you three were wondering what became of the fetching hat, its patiently waiting its turn. While I feel guilty about that (seven-year-olds can still do sad eyes to the max) I'm currently sending out so many resumes and writing so many freakin' cover letters that I'm not quite sure that my mind is focused enough to follow the pattern well. I'd like to avoid screwing it up on the second go round, if that's even remotely possible.