sock junkie

When Harvey was a shoe-size pup, I said to B one day: what if I don't love him when he grows up? What if he is not as cute when his little snub nose grows into a full-size dachshund snout? B said, ridiculous!

As I blocked Faina's Scarf last weekend, marvelling at how the yarn got softer after a block and stretch, how the fabric changed, at how light it was in my hands when all folded up, I thought about what project comes next. I am trying to be a serial monogamist with projects, only having one affair at a time alongside the tedious marriage of end-weaving. I was pretty certain that I would do Heidi's socks, which I look at as someone else footing the bill for my addiction. It doesn't apply in this case, I was delighted when she asked me if I wanted to make her socks, but I am starting to notice how people ask you to knit stuff as if they're asking you to pass them a Kleenex. But I did think: what if I don't really like knitting socks after all? What if those tiny tiny stitches drive me nuts and I develop massive "second sock syndrome"?

After one very frustrating night when I tried to get them on the sticks via Socks! The Next Step and its inscrutable instructions (to be fair, I probably shouldn't have tried to do this the same night I had a meltdown about the medical condition), I have been knitting happily away. So I guess it's like Harvey love: it never gets smaller, only bigger. I am now waking up early to read knitblogs or surf pattern rings or knit a few stitches. I was nearly late for a meeting yesterday because I wanted to sit in my car listening to The Secret Life of Bees from audible.com and knitting just one more row. And I don't do late for meetings.

And besides, I think miles of stockinette is just the ticket for teaching myself to knit Continental. The throwing has hurt my wrist more lately and made my right pinkie alternate tingly and numb. So far, the remapping of synapses in my brain is going fine, but I find it harder to purl Continental, and this project so far has no opportunity for practicing that.

If nothing else, Socks! The Next Step is a fantastic read-out-loud-in-bed kind of book. B took his his turn the other night and now cannot stop laughing about the sock "revolution." He's mustered Harvey into the guerrilla sock revolutionary army, and Harvey keeps singing, "Can you hear the guns, Fernando?" And if you've never heard Harvey sing, well, you're missin' something. We all want to be part of the revolution. And we'll be well socked because of it. (Mea culpa, all my good-girl apologies to Carole Wulster.)

off the sticks

Last night, I blocked my first thing ever--faina's scarf.

It's still drying in this muggy Washington August day, and with blocking, it has become a new thing altogether. I'm worried that I've stretched it out too far (B said last night, "It's really beautiful but tell me this. . .why is it so freakin' long?"). The fabric is now truly lacy with sharp yarnovers, clear chevrons, and is very fine, silky and airy instead of a curling-up softy dense nubbly pet. I followed the directions, and wet-blocking made sense to me, but while I celebrate my first real completion, I mourn a little for the loss of the thing that was the companion of my process. This is why, I suspect, knitting is so soulfully good: when done, you get to carry/wear/envelop yourself with an infusion, not just an object, of your own desires and workings and thoughts.

And then again, get off it, nann--it's just a scarf! Can't wait to sling it around my neck when the cold mornings come this fall and winter.

home again

Outside in this glorious august night, the neighbor sprinklers are spritzing. Le Ann and I went for Pagliacci's on a whim today, and yesterday I visited three!!! of the Seattle knitting stores (plus Sephora, C&B, Pottery Barn). Weaving Works, I think, is my new favorite. Acorn Street was long on novelty and good needles, books, but short on really interesting yarn, or maybe I was just yarned out after leaving WW (long on needles, books, fleece, yarns, project table). I like anywhere they don't start looking at me funny when I don't buy much after two hours. I promise, soon! when I've worked my way through the mini-stash (five projects seems like a lot, but at least I have projects in mind for each of the things I bought).

Needlepoint Joint in Ogden, though, will become my fantasy in the same way that B dreams of Chuck-a-Rama's two kinds of gravy whenever we leave Utah.

I bought my first Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock (at center in green, for the Fiber Trends Lacy Leaf Socks), my first Regia (actually Heidi bought it so I can make her a pair of self-patterning Fair Isle-style and now I'm thinking it might actually be harder than it looks to make twins), some Adrienne Vittadini Cara linen in a lovely silvery wheat /bronze color (the same color as my high school graduation dress, as it turns out).

I still have some Cascade 220 for a pair of worsted socks, some pink Fixation for their free pattern socks, and some fuschia Fortissima Socka (what was I thinking?) for the lacy socks in IWK summer or the Fiber Trends raindrop lace socks (pattern courtesy of NPJ).

Like my food greedies at a buffet, my stash seems to make no sense and looks odd when all put together. I don't think the Cara will be easy to knit, but I want to do a dresser scarf for the guest room with it (maybe with beads?), and even if it just sits, I couldn't let it go--not when each $9 ball was marked down to $4. If I'd had some good sense and a bigger budget, I could've made out like crazy with their sale, but I still haven't ordered from Knit Picks, and they just keep adding yarns! Also, the great woman at NPJ who helped me pick out circs for socking very generously gave me several free patterns for felted pumpkins, and they had a glittery beaded/felted pumpkin kit I might just have to send away for. Can't believe, though, that I didn't make it to Knit Craft. Man, it's so easy for me to forget what I want to do and give away my time to others.

I'm also learning: if there is a pattern that you love and you see, snatch it up. I got frugal in my last several trips, and here's what I stupidly missed (because post-MS also comes with listmaking):

• the Harriet bag from Two Old Bags (online--still could get this one)
• that great cardigan from Oat Couture (Mount Vernon knit shop)
• that sinewy, "carved out" beaded green scarf on earthfaire.com (don't know what it was called or who it was by, or I might be able to find it again)
• the Himalayan silk vest/poncho thing

There are so many things I want to knit. Tonight I frogged back a few rows of Faina's scarf. I keep telling myself it was because I really do have enough yarn to make one more pattern repeat plus the last 50 rows of decreasing, plus the fringe (which is really quite questionable, actually), but I suspect it was actually more than frugality: I am loathe to have this project done. I have loved it so, the yumptious maroon marino and cashmere has been a comfort, even in the dead of summer (I keep thinking of Laura Ingalls Wilder's mother telling her, "cashmere wears well and is serviceable in all but the warmest days of summer"--eeek, how many times did I read those damn books!), and the pattern has been an orderly meditation of yarnovers (my, I like lace). I knit it all day on the way home from Utah, and still I am addicted to it. Every time I picked it up, I was addicted to it. I'm sure I will feel the same even about the next project (Heidi's socks) , but this is the project that was my first splurge of yarn, the first pattern I really wanted to make.

Le Ann had good wisdom today, from her latest sermon, on the things that clog our hearts (metaphorical hearts, not like French fries, etc.): anger, greed, jealousy, guilt. The antidote to greed is to give. The antidote to jealousy is to celebrate. She didn't remember the other two antidotes, but it doesn't matter because these two are my demons. I've been trying to recall lately when they arise that these two things are simply evidence of a deep but confounded want, or a frustrated wish, and that the wish and want are holy. It's the personality that twists them, and the urgency that is really fear. She also said that greed and jealousy are also our way of not trusting that the universe will take care of us. Hmmm.

free sock patterns!

I'm cheap. And I like interesting socks. Found some today at sockbug.

Last night, as we were collapsed in the 90-degree heat with Harvey (seen here in his normal nosey state):

we were talking about the hours and hours involved in the upcoming road trip. B said, "You're going to knit the whole way, aren't you."

I have been in such a state about the endlessly ended blankie that I had forgotten. about. knitting. in the. car. That's a good 11-12 hours of knit time! Even at my turtle's pace, that's many many rows! And, if we stop overnight on our way home, even more! Here's how it went from that point: B, waxing on about all the lovely talking time we will have (first of all, who's he kidding, I've been on long drives with him before, and he's NOT a talker). Me, thinking, "But I can't count Faina's scarf and talk, too." I really have begun to think of myself as an all-things-knit addict, because I find myself peeved when he interrupts my knit-related activity.

Now if only I could figure out a way to knit on the first leg of the trip, which I'm driving solo. Maybe in that eastern Oregon, northern Idaho part.

knitting nostalgia

Somehow I've discovered the webring for Utah knitters. Can I be one (again)? Their pages are rife with photos of cool socks (it's Nancy Bush country, after all) and mountains. And even better: Knit Craft, Mickey Burdett's stacked-to-the-rafters shop! Who knew it was still there? and Needlepoint Joint, which was the scene of my first fiber lust, though it's moved from the mouth of Ogden canyonlatter to trendy and accessible 25th Street--oh, excuse me, Historic 25th Street. I think I'm feeling nostalgic, as well as just wanting to plan for my trip--I leave this Saturday, and the thing I'm looking forward to most is returning to my knitting roots by visiting these shops.

And, as usual, I've whiled away the evening downloading free sock patterns from various knitblogs. Instead of working on 1) my mediation test or 2) the 900+ ends to weave in or 3) laundry. My knitting porn addiction, as B would say. . .