Kris Kris Kris Kris Kris

Sock B.K.C. (Before Kris's Comment).



















Sock A.K.C. (After Kris's Comment).

I told Kris her comment had earned her a blog title, and I wasn't kidding. Much. In order to really understand the impact of Kris's comment, maybe you should understand a little better where my knitting mind has been lately.

For a very long time, I was a casual knitter, and I knit casually. I knew knit, purl, cast on and cast off, and that was enough for me. I made sweaters -- stockinette, drop shoulders, with ribbed cuffs and hems. I also made cardigans -- stockinette, drop shoulders, with ribbed cuffs and hems. I made shawls and blankets -- stockinette squares with ribbed edgings. If I wanted to get fancy, I alternated knit and purl stitches for a moss stitch, or superfancy, in grids of four for a basket weave effect.

That was enough for me. Until.....

I suspect anyone reading this blog understands about the "until...." One day, some great cosmic finger flips a switch in your head, and you become a Knitter. It's more than just a hobby. It's a lifestyle.

Part of the transformation to Knitter for me involved a new sense of adventure. Double points. Socks. Cables. Dude, inset sleeves. I felt like nothing was beyond my knitterly grasp.

But sometimes there's still that pull from the old way, and lately, I've been feeling it hard. I want mindless knitting. I'm tired of riding the learning curve. I want to knit something plain and easy that -- here's the key -- I don't have to think about.

For me, plain socks qualify as mindless knitting. They didn't used to. See how that learning curve works? One day, you're all fingers, fighting with five damn needles, all of which want to either fall out of your knitting or poke you in the nose. The next day, socks are mindless and soothing.

So I finished the Country Garden socks, and then I finished my carry-along socks, the trampoline disasters. Still wasn't enough. Still wanted to park my brain outside my knitting bag.

So I cast on the grey striped socks. Knit, knit, knit, letting my mind occasionally dwell on the way the stripes looked, but for the most part, ignoring the product. And enjoying it, for the most part. Because these socks would redeem me after the great trampoline cast-off debacle. They would be easy, and fast, and require no extra thought or planning of any kind. I could knit them on auto-pilot and end up with a great product, thereby proving that I don't suck after all. That I really do live on a higher knitting plateau than before.

Except ... something felt off. I would look at those stripes and look at those stripes, and love the way the flecky bits of white looked. But the stripes themselves? Hmm. Something was off. Never mind, keep knitting, they're only socks and they're serving their purpose. Don't overthink them.

And then I pulled them out at the SnB anniversary bash, and people started noticing the cool flecky white bits, and Kris walked by on her way to the buffet and said (brace yourselves),

"Wow, with those broad stripes, that yarn would make great jaywalkers."

::sigh::

Of course, she's right. I've never knit jaywalkers before. I'm going to have to think about these socks after all. And maybe the great lesson in this for me is that knitting is something I think about now. There are moments when it's mindless, but these moments are interspersed between hours of study and thought and planning.

And maybe that's okay. Change isn't always bad, right?