Good Service, Holy Grails, and Unicorns

Just when you thought that good customer service was a myth, along comes a store that actually knows how to serve its customers.

Nana's Knits in Oak Lawn is just that store. I popped in there on my lunch break a couple weeks ago during their summer sale. It was busy, but Trish and I chatted a little in between other things. I asked her if she had the new Charlene Schurch sock book, and she only had the first one. I asked if it would be possible to order it, and she said she would check.

We got sidetracked by other things (ooh! soft! ooh! pretty! ooh! want it!) and then I had to dash out the door for work. I left without buying anything which Never! happens. But I was short on time and needed to check a pattern for yardage and ... you know. Can't think and rush at the same time.

So I dashed out, and realized only later that I hadn't paid for the book I'd ordered. Or maybe not even officially ordered it at all. I figured we'd mend that the next day, because I intended to go back and buy some yarn.

I didn't make it back the next day. Classic case of shit---->fan. I cringed every time I thought about losing out on that sale (because I need more yarn. HA!), and figured I'd sort out the thing with the book eventually.

Today Trish emailed me. I'm on her mailing list for sales flyers and such. Color me astonished that she was able to connect me (a/k/a the dork who walks around her store in a swoon) to the email address on a list.

She ordered that book for me. Not only that, but she's agreed to put aside something else for me and hold it all until I can get there Thursday.

Trish, if you're reading this, mwah! I adore you and your store!

Everybody else, shop there and keep that wonderful place thriving!

Blogger Hates Me, Take 47

Here's the finished sock.





















Here's the short row heel with the wraps left in place (not picked up).

I don't know why blogger eats the pictures out of my posts sometimes. I don't know why I can't reload the pictures into those same posts, but instead have to create a new post. And I'm especially tired of trying to figure it out and explain it here.

The last few days have been dominated by work problems. Late deliveries, insubordinate employees, things getting broken and lost and generally messed up. I haven't had time to even think about blogger's latest gaffe.

All I can say is, thank heaven for knitting. It's holding me together while we get through this.

I hear Nana's Knits is carrying Gypsy Girl sock yarn now (thanks for the news, Amy!), and I have to go there Thursday to pick up a book Trish ordered for me. Even though we're less than two weeks from Stitches, I may indulge in a little sock yarn at Nana's. Cuz at this point, it's either that or a bucketload of prozac. And I really do like that Gypsy Girl!

Seven!

Seven socks.
Three pairs.
Thirty-seven days.
(Thirty-one if you don't count the days I lost in Dallas.)
Two half-socks.

I am a confirmed flap-and-gusset-heel girl. It's not that I mind short rows. I don't. They're easy and probably faster than a flap and gusset. But I prefer the fit and the feel of a flap and gusset, so that's what I make as a rule.

These socks are an exception to the rule because of the striping. After all I went through to get the barberpole in place, I didn't want to screw it up by changing my stitch count for a gusset. So short rows it is.






















You know how knitter fuss and fiddle at picking up the wraps on short rows? My solution is to not pick them up at all. You get a line sort of like a garter ridge. I'm sure there are purists shuddering at the thought, but it doesn't bother me a bit. Who would even notice that once the sock is on the foot? Not me.

Now that number seven is in the books, I'm starting to eye that jaywalker again. Maybe, just maybe, I might be ready to bail it out of knitting jail. Still debating the foot....

Six!

Six socks.
Three pairs.
Er...35 days?

Plus three half-socks on the needles, most of which are more or less at the heel stage.

Not bad for a gal who usually takes a week to ten days to knit a single sock. I suspect that goal of six pairs is well within reach, and the "only if I'm really, really stretching" goal of eight pairs might not be such a stretch after all. We'll see. I'm just going to keep knitting socks and see how far I get.

Some days, I get further than others.

Today, just when we thought the house was starting to need not quite so many tradesmen stomping through it all the damn time, we had a wee problem. The crawlspace flooded. Turned out to be a broken sillcock* in the wall connecting to the outdoor spigot. We think either the painters or the cementers** broke it earlier this week while working out in front. Both teams used *cough*abused*cough* the hose. Regardless, it broke, and consequently we had our favorite plumber back to the house.

How sad is it when you have a favorite plumber? I never met the man before we started renovating this house. Now I know all about his grandchildren and his best fishing spots.

Anyway, as long as our charming favorite plumber was here, we had him install a new hot water heater. What the heck. It's about the only thing in this house he hadn't yet worked on.

I guess I should mention that no yarn was stored in the crawlspace. So there's our silver lining on this rainy day.

*I have no clue how to spell silcock/syllycock/whatever. Yes, I'm a professional editor and should care about these things. But not tonight. It's a stupid pipe, it's busted and it's probably misspelled. We'll all just have to learn to live with the horror of that.

**Yes, we had the outdoor trim painted and the cement walkways repaired this week. We pretty much have work crews here every week. I've stopped talking about it because this has been going on since May 12, 2006, and I'm well and truly sick of it. My current approach to the renovation process is to pretend it's not happening. Which turns out to be a great way to deal with it, until some teenaged housepainter breaks a sillcock and floods your crawlspace.

Two Little Stitches

Now that's more like it.

I ripped back, arranged 58 stitches on the needles, and miraculously found the pattern again. Isn't it amazing the difference two stitches can make?

I'd like to point out that this means I officially have four pairs of socks in progress, thereby conclusively proving that I am a faithless whore. I really intended to knit just two socks at a time for the SOS07. One plain, one patterned. I figured that would keep me amused and out of trouble.

Yeah, right.

I have 1) the turquoise Dale Baby Ulls, 2) the Gypsy Girl barberpoles shown above, 3) the Bearfoot Wildflowers plain sock, and 4) the godforsaken pain-in-my-ass jaywalkers. Of course, the Dales are almost done, and the jaywalkers are in jail for conduct unbecoming yarn. So I can sort of fake it that there are only two pairs in progress. But really, in the dark of the night, when it's just me and my unvarnished conscience, I will know it's four.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. Maybe if I just keep knitting, it won't matter.

Barberpole, My Foot!

I have a history of odd results with yarns that are supposed to barberpole. And here we go again.

The yarn is Gypsy Girl in the Stormy Skies colorway, purchased at The Fold on our most recent field trip. (Was that in April?) The yarn is nice overall, but has some slightly undesirable characteristics, one of which is that it squeaks against my wooden sock needles. It also feels a little stiff, which is a feeling I've come to associate with yarns that bleed. It's almost as if you can feel the extra dye in the fiber. I know that's not really what I'm feeling, and that not all stiff and squeaky wools will bleed, but I'll be watching this one the first time I wash it. It feels like the kind of yarn that will soften and bloom in the wash.

Otherwise, the yarn is nice to knit with. It's got a nice, tight twist, a little extra loftiness, and a good woolly stretch to it. I like the hand -- the slight stiffness I described doesn't interfere with the hand at all. The resulting fabric has a slightly rustic appearance, but I expect that will even out somewhat in the wash. I will definitely look at buying more of this whenever we happen to go to The Fold again.

Now, we'll get to see how it stands up to frogging. That blotched, blocky, slanted column effect is simply not going to stand as it is.

When I started knitting it, I was really digging the tight barberpole spiral at the cuffs. Then I switched to regular stockinette and -- sing along if you know the words, cuz you've heard this song before -- the yarn stopped spiraling as I knit it. It abruptly reversed directions, looked like it would spiral the other way, then started make thick blotches of color. The problem is a little more evident in this picture. See the way the black and blue come together? For almost an inch, a good eight rows, the color change forms a column rather than a slant.



















So I'm going to rip back to just above the ribbing and reknit to see if I can get back to that lovely tight barberpole again. Or something kind of like it. I don't care if it switches directions. I don't care if the barberpole wobbles here and there. My only goal is to end up with something that looks more deliberate and less clown-barfy.

And if there's one thing I've learned by now, it's how to manipulate this type of yarn to get a semi-decent effect. So even though I'm complaining some, I'm not really worried. We'll get it there. Plan A -- 56 stitches in plain stockinette on size 1.5s -- didn't work. Plan B (the last two rows, including the row on the needles) was 52 stitches, and it causes the spiral to twist too sharply. You see how above the blue, all the stitches on the needle are grey? It took only two rounds to get that far, and that's too fast. So now that I know that, I'll rip back and go with Plan C, 54 stitches, which ought to produce a result I can live with.

(Side note: I finished the book. Great read!)

Spoiler-Free Zone

I hereby solemnly vow that nothing in this post will alert you to any details of plot, story, character, etc., in HP7.

I feel I have to make that promise because not everyone is being kind about letting the rest of us experience the book as we turn the pages. This morning at the bookstore, I got in the very long line with my book and was practically hopping with the desire to get through the line so I could go home and read. I had blocked out the weekend for this, canceling plans and ignoring all media so as not to inadvertently hear any spoilers. And I couldn't wait to start reading.

Then a small pack of rude teenaged girls got in line behind me and started reading the last pages out loud. Accent on loud. I was seriously pissed off. Told them all to shut up -- yes, I most certainly did, and the woman in front of me seconded my scold -- which sent them into gales of hormonal teenaged girl giggles. One of them apparently took my exhortation as encouragement to repeat a certain quote very loudly like a mantra. The quote was revealing, but not revelatory. Enough to let me know that I had correctly guessed one element of this book, but not enough to reveal the answer to any of the central questions surrounding this book.

Still, it was more than I wanted to hear.

So I got out of the line and walked to the other end of the store and watched until the horde left. Luckily, the line was moving quickly, mainly because people were fleeing from these girls.

Anyway. Pissed me off, and I sure won't do the same to anyone else.

The picture above shows you how I've spent the day and the evening. Tea, a little chocolate, some plain knitting, and a very much anticipated book. I only wish every day could be represented thus.

It's a little hard to get any knitting done while reading because I keep getting caught up in the story. It's also a little hard to push away from the table long enough to do things such as -- well, such as anything other than read this book. I'm every bit as captivated by this one as I have been by the first six, and that's saying a lot, especially in light of what the annoying teenaged girls revealed to half the bookstore.

So, to all of you reading HP7, I tip my needles. Enjoy it, and may nothing spoil it for you.

Five!

I'm so very happy to be able to blog again. And here to help me celebrate is sock number five for the SOS07 challenge. I love this sock, love the way it turned out, love everything about it -- pattern, yarn, color, everything. It's just a happy squooshy sock.




















The pattern, corded rib, was taken from Charlene Schurch's SKS. I love how the texture changes when you wear it. Look at those eyelets that suddenly appear. Very nice. Me likee this pattern, and it couldn't be easier to knit.


















I also set out the back of the Silver Creek cabled cardigan to block. Before I pinned it out, I would have sworn that it would never in a million years stretch to the proper dimensions. But it did, and now I'm less worried about knitting the fronts.

I don't know why I can't get the Silver Creek to photograph properly. No matter what I do, the color is off. And not just off by a little, either. The actual color of this yarn is midway between a royal blue and a dark turquoise. It's very bright and vivid, but it always photographs as a charcoal or navy. I messed around with the photo editor to get it closer to the true color, but the photos still disappoint me. The yarn is too beautiful to be misrepresented like this!

Test

Define "Easier"

They say that computers make our lives easier. I have two words I'd like to say in response to that: 1) Ha, and 2) Ha.

For entirely mysterious (to me) reasons, I have been unable to access my blog for the last few days. Every time I try to post (through Picasa, which is the only way I've ever been able to post pictures), I get an error message telling me I must be logged on to the internet to use the blogging feature.

Sometimes, just to really confound me, I also get a grey box with lots of error code in it. You know, the kind of stuff that demonic computer programmers put in there to scare the bejeebus out of poor befuddled knitters like me.

That scare tactic works really well, by the way. Just thought I'd mention that in case there are any demonic computer programmers lurking on this blog.

I have no idea what's causing this problem. And of course, I've been too addled with post-conference catatonia to really tackle and try to solve it. Today is really the first day that my brain has emerged from seclusion. It still feels sort of bruised, and tries to hide from the light, but it's at least somewhat present again.

Anyway. If anyone out there reading this has a clue what I'm talking about, I'd appreciate any insight you can share.

In knitting news, I did not knit a single stitch in Dallas. Not. One. Stitch. I carried my knitting around with me. I transferred it from bag to bag as I went through my days. I pet it once or twice between meetings, while fumbling in my bag for breath mints or a pen. And that was the extent of that.

Never made it to the LYS, either, despite my careful pre-conference study of DART lines and street maps. I was just to busy running from meeting to meeting. I did make it out of the hotel twice, both times to attend offsite parties. Other than that, I was a prisoner of the Dallas Hyatt Reunion or Regency or whatever the hell that place is called with the giant light-up ball on top.

I have deliberately blocked the name of the hotel because they gave me food poisoning. The less said about that, the better.

Tuesday was really my first day back to work, and I worked from 8:30 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. Ah, the glamorous life I lead. Yesterday saw me pick up my needles for the first time since last Wednesday -- that's a new record, folks, six days in a row without a single stitch knit. Please, knitgoddess, let that record stand uncontested forever and ever amen.

My turquoise Dale Baby Ull socks are cruising again. I've completed the gussets on the first, and have knit to the heel flap on the second. The jaywalkers are in time out because I can only manage so many problem children at once, and I have my hands full with my temperamental computer and all the work problems that piled up while I was away. Tomorrow, I'm going to cast on a plain sock and get the cuffs knocked out so that I can knit stockinette by touch while reading the new Harry Potter book over the weekend.

That's the sock report. I'd love to show you all a progress picture. We'll just have to all cross our fingers and hope for a brighter tomorrow, right?

The Winner!

I get a little misty all over again while looking at these pictures. What a great night! Thanks and mwah! to Bron for inviting me to share her special night -- I wouldn't have missed that moment for the world. It's such a beautiful thing when a writer you know and love begins to win some acclaim. I said it before, darlin Bron, but it bears repeating, and repeating some more. I'm so very, very proud of you.

On the Big Screen

At the Podium

It is very hard to take clean pictures in a dark theater when you are shaking and crying because you're just so darn happy for your friend THE WINNER!!! (And have I mentioned that she won? LOL)

Note to Visiting Non-Knitters, and you know who you are: If you look at the large screen on the left of the bottom picture, you will note her hand held to her nose. Obviously, the stench was getting to her. Also, can ya stand it? That's our girl on that stage!

Bron Before and After

The lovely and very talented Bronwyn Clarke before the awards ceremony Saturday night. See how calm she looks? I bet the sparkly top helped with that.





















Bron after the ceremony, holding her award. SHE WON!!!!! Woot!

The picture is blurry because I was shaking and crying. I'm just so freaking proud of our girl.

Special note to those of you who expect knitting content on this blog: Sorry. Ain't gonna happen until I get a batch of ceremony pictures posted. Long story -- for yahellian mysterious reasons, I can't seem to post them anywhere but here. If it makes it any better, Bron's a very talented fiber artist in addition to being a very talented up and coming writer.

Wouldn't You Know It

I am leaving for the airport in fourteen minutes. I logged onto my email for a quick last check before I become temporarily computerless. And guess what was in my emailbox?

Yep.

My Ravelry invitation.

My prediction: I will spend the next five days in Dallas ignoring all the bright new authors and trying to scam web time so I can FINALLY get onto this site. Instead of a $150 bar tab, I will have a $150 room tab for internet service. Editors tend to hide in their rooms a bit at these things, anyway, but this time? You'll need a forklift and a ton of dynamite to dislodge me from my room.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go play with my new toy. Only 8 minutes left until I leave for the airport ... bet I can find some cool new sock patterns in that time.

Pack Rat

I am incorrigible.

I am hopeless.

I am taking enough sock yarn to knit eight socks, and I will be gone for five days.

The turquoise Baby Ull will join me in the cabin for the flight. My plan is to knit the more developed one up to the point where I'd have to pick up the gussets, then switch to the baby (the baby Baby Ull?) and knit the leg. That ought to last me until I land in Dallas. At least.

I started the second sock in that pair and knit part of the cuff because I am a knit klutz. I have a hard enough time with "join, being careful not to twist" while comfortably seated at my kitchen table in perfect isolation and peace. I don't even want to think about what kind of mutant moebius I might inadvertently knit if I were to try that join with turbulence.

Then we have the two remaining skeins of Bearfoot, in Raven and Wildflowers, and two little balls of Lorna's Laces in the Crazy Stripe colorway. Aptly named, that. It's not just crazy. It's almost psychotic. I have plans for that yarn that involve the Charlene Schurch book and a potentially stern finger wag at the jaywalkers -- details will follow.

And yes, of course, I have already scouted the location of the nearest yarn shop and have printed out a DART map and matched my schedule with their hours of business. Because god forbid I should not know where to go should I find myself running short of yarn. ::eyeroll::

You know, there was a time I could go to our lake house for an entire week and pack only one knitting project. I would do things like pack an extra pair of flipflops, or a whole stack of bathing suits, or extra toys for the kids. But only one knitting project, and somehow, that was okay.

Then. And now?

Well. I think we all know the answer to that. My security blanket has officially unravelled and returned to its native state, balls of yarn.

I don't know if I will have the opportunity to blog from Dallas. If not, have a great weekend and maybe I'll have a finished sock or two to show off on Sunday evening.

Special Note: Tina from the comments gets a gold star for being the first visitor to this blog to identify the quote in the "About Me" section. I bet Jane was a knitter, too.

Four!

Four socks.
Two complete pairs.
Three socks currently OTN.
Eighteen days.
Yay!

Yes, I ripped and reknit the leg to get rid of that hole. First, I tried to pull the dropped stitch up, but that left me with one too many live stitches and the whole thing looked sort of wonky and wobbly. Usually I can make that particular repair work. But not this time.

I don't mind reknitting. I'd rather get it right and feel good about the end product. The Bearfoot stood up well to ripping. I was concerned the mohair content might gum things up, but it was fine. It's a nice sturdy yarn despite its fuzzy appearance.

So now, with that done, I'm finally allowing myself to obsess over which yarn to take to Dallas for this conference. I leave in 36 hours! And I'm only now thinking about yarn! Something is clearly not right in my world. I should have, by now, made a complete stash inventory, browsed patterns for two hours, arranged likely yarns on a spare table in order of pack-ability, changed the assortment six times, changed the pack-ability order nineteen times, and at least once per hour seriously considered taking my entire stash .

I really do love my stash.

But this time, because it's all socks all summer, the focus is tighter and the dilemma is greatly reduced. I don't have to spend one thin second dwelling on socks, bags, sweaters, hats, mittens, scarves, gauge swatches, and all the yarns for all those items that could possibly fit into my suitcase, just as long as I remove my shoes. And my clothes. And all my underwear. And probably my toothbrush.

The definition of "travel necessities" sure does evolve some once we take up knitting, doesn't it?

Okay, okay, I'll pack clothes and toiletries. But I'd still rather pack my stash.




















This is a very pretty skein of Mountain Colors Bearfoot in the Wildflowers colorway. It's similar to the Flathead Cherry socks I just finished, but pinkier and purplier. Not as much burgundy. It occurs to me that if I knit this, and knit the skein of Raven (a nice inky black), I would have finished all the Bearfoot in my stash. That would feel like an accomplishment, especially given that the jaywalkers are the last of the Regia. Because I joined the Summer of Socks as a stashbuster, this would make me feel like I've actually managed to bust some stash. I could legitimately claim that I knit all of the Bearfoot, Regia, and Koigu sock yarn in my stash. That's got a nice ring to it.

So the Wildflowers will fly to Dallas with me. I'm also taking the Dale Baby Ull turquoise socks. I'm excessively tempted to pack a third sock yarn -- maybe the Gypsy Girl, which has really been calling my name lately, or the Shaeffer Anne -- but I am trying to resist this borderline insane urge to pack three month's worth of knitting for a five-day conference.

Then again, it's only sock yarn, and everyone knows sock yarn doesn't count. It hardly takes up any room at all. I could pack all of it, and the STR and Wildfoot too. And the Lorna's Laces, too, if I don't pack my clothes and my shoes and ....

Dang. There I go again. ...sigh...

I really do hate being parted from my stash.

The Hole Truth

I don't know wtf I did this time. I was blissfully knitting along, mostly knitting by feel that second Mountain Colors flathead cherry sock while I watched Clinton and Stacy shred the ego of yet another unsuspecting fashion victim. There's a WNTW marathon today and I'm in a deeply snarky mood. You know what that means? Voila! Instant multitasking! I can slack off for the afternoon in two different ways at once!

Am I good or what.




















Yep. Or what. Because today, knitting by touch equals a big honkin hole in my sock leg. Do you see that? Front and center? That dark loop sticking out is a dropped stitch. Just above it is a nice large hole.

Here's a little mystery. I still have the right number of stitches on the needles. So not only did I manage to drop a stitch, but I also managed to somewhere, somehow, some time add a stitch.

My guess is that I slid the needle between stitches instead of into the stitch. I created a yarn over instead of a stitch, and then dropped the old, still live stitch.
And for an added bonus, I also managed to knit an inch past the dropped stitch before noticing it. Am I good or what? Or what.

Clearly I need to pay more attention to my knitting and less to Clinton and Stacy. Or maybe the knitting goddess is punishing me for knitting when I should be working. Or maybe it was some subliminal freudian thing, me putting a hole in my knitting while Stacy ripped some poor chanteuse for wearing an argyle sweater with holes in it. I felt bad for that little jazz diva. I mean, we all have that beloved comfy sweater we hold onto past its prime, right?

















And sometimes holes in the knitting are a good thing. The turquoise Dale Baby Ull on the right is a zigzaggy lace rib from Charlene Schurch. Very easy pattern. Every other round is regular k2, p2 resting round. Then on alternating pattern rounds, you either yo-k2tog or you ssk-yo on the knit columns, and purl the purls as usual. I've been playing with this pattern as I knit it, alternating the way I wrap the yarn, knitting and purling through the back loops, and basically just messing with it to see what kind of effects I can create. The only difference I see so far is in the size of the holes from the yarn overs. The pattern itself remains intact. That makes sense, but I still have this urge to mess with this as I'm knitting it.

The Baby Ull is knitting into super squooshy, super sproingy fabric, making it the exact opposite of the jaywalker. I turned the heel on the jaywalker and have knit about half an inch of the gusset. For now, I'm sticking to the chevron pattern, but that won't last much longer. The fabric is wickedly inflexible and a regular stockinette would be so much more comfortable on the feet. So I'm thinking I will decrease partway through the gussets in pattern and then switch to regular stockinette when the stitch count seems low enough to make the right size foot tube.

That's the sock report.

In other news, I must sent out a hearty Oh Crap! My Bad! to my SnB crew. I forgot about our alternate meeting last night. And next week I will be in Dallas for that conference, so it will be two weeks before I get to ogle all of your knitting again. ...pout... But hey, maybe by then there will be a finished snake cozy to admire, eh Missus A?

The V Word

There's a big debate raging on Knitter's Review regarding handpainted variegated yarns. Some people hate them, some love them, some give them a qualified thumb's up depending on colorway and pattern selection.

I thought the debate was a little artificial until I pulled out the Summer 2007 Knitter's for another look-see.

I bought this magazine last week and flipped through it eagerly, as always. This time, the thought balloon in my head as I turned pages went something like, "ugly, ugly, dear god are they kidding?, ugly, that one's better, ugly, baby, baby, baby, gack! my eyes!, ugly." So I put the magazine down before any of the ugly could rub off on me, and figured I'd take a second look when I had a nice bracing beverage in hand and could maybe control the gag reflex.

That fearsome moment arrived late last night. My retinas were already scorched by the fireworks show, and I'd been casually imbibing since about two in the afternoon, so I figured I was ready. I could safely read the pattern magazine.

It didn't take me but three ugly patterns before I realized that I have a slight *cough*cough* aversion to garments knit in variegated yarn.

Now, I might think these were ugly even if knit in solid yarn. The Latin ruffles thing? I'm not seven, even if I try to act like it sometimes. We can skip the awful ruffles, thank you very much.

And the cover sweater? Take a closer look at how the part around the waist bags and droops and flutters. That's because of the way it's knit. Otherwise known as bad design.

Though, in fairness, there are some awful patterns in solid yarns. Like that bizarre shawl/vest combo thingie that only Bea Arthur could wear. Or the -gack! my eyes!- Tank of A Hundred Nipples, shown here under the little girl ruffly mess.

But the good designs, the ones that show thoughtful attention to detail and coherency of form, like the Grecian thingie by Lily Chin, and the Drifting Sands off-shoulder tank, and the sweaters for the guys, those are knit in workhorse solid yarns. Which kind of makes me wonder. Is it that it's harder to design garments with variegated yarns, or is it that variegated yarns make any design, no matter how clever, look worse?

I love variegated yarns for small articles like socks and mittens. I thought that the more subtle variations from a hand/kettle dye job were appealing for bigger pieces, but then I knit that Lady Eleanor in a purple kettle-dyed wool, and have been scheming to even out the color ever since. No amount or combination of kool-aid has been able to fix it to my satisfaction. Still irritates me, that yarn. I'm within inches of dying the whole Lady E black.

So maybe it's just me. Maybe I should just accept that I'm a solid color kind of gal, and leave the wild color combos for something I can hide under my pants legs.

Jaywalking

I'm knitting the heel flap of the first jaywalker. Not sure what I think of the pattern or the result. On the one hand, the chevron looks cool and it's a fun and easy knit. On the other hand, the resulting fabric has some properties that might not make for the most comfy sock. It's dense, tight, and not very flexible. The ribbing and the chevron don't seem to coexist peacefully. And I'm afraid the sock may be too large.

But I'm going to keep knitting. I'm debating whether to stay in pattern for the whole foot, or knit the gussets down to a smaller number of total stitches in a more flexible stockinette fabric. Anyone have any thoughts to share on that? I'm about the last knitter on the planet to knit jaywalkers, so I imagine there's a wealth of insight out there regarding this pattern.














I also cast on these boot socks in Dale Baby Ull. Though it's barely apparent, there will be a simple pattern on these. My initial thought was to do a cable of some sort, but after swatching the yarn, I decided on one of the 4-stitch patterns from the Charlene Schurch book. These ought to be quick and fun.

The only other thing going on right now is the mad scramble leading up to RWA's annual conference. I'm trying to focus on things like clearing off my desk rather than on things like which yarn to pack. I wound off a couple of skeins over the weekend so I have ready yarn to choose from. But with all the real work I need to accomplish this week, worrying about yarn just can't be high on the to-do list. (We'll see how long that resolve sticks.)