Knitting Sutra

Mea Culpa

Some of ya'll were right to point out that I had the wrong idea about the origins of the My So-Called Scarf from Sheep in the City. I dearly apologize for spreading mis-information and coming across as snarky, jerky, sour grapesy.

What makes it worse, is that I had read the paragraph about the origins of the scarf at some point in the past, but it didn't stick. When I went back the other day to look at Stacey's blurb, it was familiar. So I'm lazy and lame. I know from my days in editing that I should check my facts before I commit bytes to pages. I know from practicing compassion that I should pause before reacting to a perceived injustice. Things are more often not what they seem at first.

And to be fair to myself, I wasn't angry or annoyed that someone would pass off a stitch pattern as a pattern pattern. I just didn't think about what I was writing at all. Part of my own personal yoga/Buddhist practice is to cultivate mindfulness, that is total awareness of my behavior in the here and now. Clearly, this is something to practice over a lifetime.

I'm reminded by my own actions how easily it is to inadvertently and without malice spread ill will. I hope that the next time I feel wronged by someone else, I will remember my own faults and short comings and approach that situation with the compassion that I hope ya'll will give to me.

The Truth Will Set You Free

So, had I re-read Stacey's blog before I wrote my post about the so-called finished object, I'd have told you that she received the pattern for the scarf in a kit. She received so many compliments about the scarf, that she rang the shop that sold her the kit asking if she could distribute the pattern. They admitted it was just a stitch pattern they pulled from a book, so no worries about posting the pattern on her blog.

Had I been mindful, I'd have only said "Voila! The stitch pattern is the woven rattan stitch. Now we know."

Now I know.

Weird

My "Ravely Queue" button sits next to my "Ravelry Homepage" button in my browser toolbar. I sometimes often hit the wrong one. Yesterday, when accidentally trying to queue my own homepage, I saw this.

And a couple of you sneaks have even queued it!

This would be tremendously flattering if it wasn't so undeserved. Los Monos Locos are really just a bunch of modifications to Cookie A's Monkey Socks that I wrote down so others may benefit from my research. So, I wrote one of the weirdest emails I've ever written to Jess, asking to be listed as the "designer," so that I can edit the pattern page to make sure that it's clear that it's not a discrete pattern.

But it got me to thinking. I do have a couple of ideas for sock patterns. I'd eventually want to knit one pattern in a specific yarn that I don't have in my stash, but I can work out the pattern in any finger weighting like this badness I still have lying around. The second idea would be an intarsia motif, and maybe a series of them. I don't have the yarn for those, though. And never you mind that I have never done a single stitch of intarsia. Details. Pshuh.

I've been pushing these thoughts aside so I can just get through my current projects. And let's face it, my life is about to get crazy for a bit. Yet there sits that Ravelry pattern page with my name on it taunting me like a plate of dark chocolate brownies.

And don't I owe you that heel thing first anyway???

Oh That Heel Thing

Though I have not revealed the magical, toe-up heel technique that will change the way you knit socks, I am still working on it. I spent about an hour with an engineer friend of B's, after which he declared that my problem would make a good math paper. See, this is serious stuff here.

So I went back to Google for more research, and I even emailed Lauri B of Toes and Heels fame, because she wrote the pattern for 60 sts. Unfortunately, the email bounced back. Yesterday, I made first contact with a math major who knits to see if she can help.

Here's what I do know. The cuff-down version of the heel is called "the strong heel" named after the designer who published it in the Fall 2003 issue of Knitter's Magazine. The Knitter's pattern is for a 64 stitch sock. One Raveler noted that the only hint for resizing that sock was to use multiples of 4.

I've already figured out the directions for a 64 stitch toe-up sock (embedded in the above mentioned "pattern"), but I want to know how to do the heel in all possible stitch counts. With some time and a lot of paper to make my weird charts, I could work it all out for a handful of common stitch counts. However, I will always feel bad for that one person that is knitting something atypical because that atypical person is often me with my tiny, nubbin feet.

What do you think? Would you be OK with a table of numbers that would account for common sock stitch counts? It's possible that the math forumula may never happen.

So I ask you this: what are the common stitch counts for socks? I'd like to do a range to account for a couple weight of yarn.

Nothing to See Here

Back to Ravelry... Aside from updating my Ravelry projects page as progress happens (haha! That's a funny one!), I'm banning myself from Ravelry until I finish something that I set out to knit this Summer. The new forums are like drugs. It all feels good until you wake up and realize that it's already dark outside, you forgot to each lunch and you are still in your jammies.

Seriously. I have unknit more than I have knit. Sad state of knitting affairs at Casa O'Postraphe.

Lust For Stash

When my sock yarn arrived, Becky commented that she was jealous of my stash.  Looking back at that mailing sack full of yarn, I can see why.  That's a lot of yarn, and I haven't even cracked a single skein!  I'm still working off the methadone wool that I bought to tide me over until the real goods arrived.

Anyway, let's not talk about that, shall we?  Instead I want to introduce you to my stash.  Here are the mere two baskets that hide my wool, patterns, notions, etc. 

Every strand of wool hidden within those baskets was bought for a specific project.  So, my sock spree was a first offense, your honor.  I swear.  I can even name all the unknit projects, most of which were actually started and frogged.  I'm far from being a fiendish yarn collector, mkay.   The top basket also contains the Bobby Cardigan, hopefully protecting me from any baby-making powers that sweater possesses.   

Unfortunately, the sock wool did not fit in my bins, so I organized the skeins into tote bags, divided between ones I'll knit for me and ones I'll knit for B.  Even the sock yarn has purpose.

Now let's step back a few feet so you can really grasp how small my stash is.  B, Nigel, Guy and I live in a tiny apartment that was originally the first floor of a three-floor row house.   

 

The "office" pictured here is really in the "foyer," and is the first thing you see when you walk into our apartment.  The "foyer" exists because of a giant wardrobe and a  Chinese screen that we have arranged to create the "bedroom" off to the left.  No doors, just demarcated space.  To the right is the living room/dining room, which leads to a separate kitchen, which leads to a separate bathroom.  Yep, I really hate it that the bathroom is off the kitchen. 

Clearly I don't have the luxury of space to amass a big yarn stash.  Until I discovered sock yarn, I never lusted after fiber anyway.  My weakness is collecting patterns.  I love flipping through books and trolling the Web for my next project. My Amazon Wish List is chock full of pattern books I really must add to my shelf. 

Since we'll be traversing the sea once again with our worldly possessions, I've declared a moratorium on book buying until we return to the States.  I am allowing myself one pattern book purchase to help get me through my sock stash.  However, I can't decide which one I want. 

Which would you choose?

Sensational Knitted Socks or More Sensational Knitted Socks by Charlene Schurch.   Or how about Knitting Vintage Socks, Knitting on the Road: Sock Patterns for the Traveling Knitter or Folk Socks all by Nancy Bush?   Here's one I haven't heard about: Favorite Socks by Ann Budd.

I can't thumb through these books myself, so reviews would be much appreciated.  I've seen projects from several of them, but I just can't decide. 

Thoughts?