New job, new me

I’ve started my new job, and for some reason, I’ve decided I also need to simultaneously become a more focused and productive person in my personal life. Because starting a new job isn’t stressful enough.

This new master plan has meant a rigorous schedule of tasks and to-dos each night after work. It’s silly stuff, but the kind of stuff I hadn’t been doing when I was at my old job, like dry cleaning and getting non-urgent prescriptions filled and grocery shopping.

All this running around means very little knitting has been done because I’ve got Things To Do. My first Sockapalooza sock is at the gusset, and it’s looking awfully small (my friend Kelley, in her diplomatic fashion, asked “what kind of freaky midget foot is that going to fit?” Sigh). Also, I’m pretty sure I’m going to run out of yarn. I think that with every single sock I knit, so this doesn’t really mean it WILL happen time, but it’s best to be emotionally prepared. Thankfully, the Yarn Diet has a special provision for running out of yarn mid-project, and pretty much all my socks do turn out too small, so I’m fully prepared.

And speaking of the Yarn Diet, I’m at 13 days and feel like I should get some kind of chip or button (or reward yarn, but I suppose that would defeat the purpose entirely). Though I didn’t have my first real challenge until Monday night. One of the new job’s many charms is that the building is located directly across the street from a lovely yarn shop. In fact, if I crane my neck out my window, I can see right in their windows. In the Bad Old Days, I would have popped in on my way home from work as a little reward for finishing my first day.

And truthfully, I did look take a longing peek in as I walked past, and my heart did race a little as I saw the enormous ‘SALE’ signs plastered in the window, but I had Things To Do. There were Groceries to Buy. And Dishes to Wash. So I walked on. Yay me!

As for the diet-busting Sockapalooza sock itself, there’s no good reason I’m so far behind. The Embossed Leaves pattern is fantastic: easy enough to knit without really paying attention after the first few rows, but interesting enough to keep my attention. And the results are quite fetching, don’t you think?



The only problem I’ve had with the pattern (besides it turning out too small and using too much yarn) is that each row begins with two purl stitches. I usually rejigger my stitches on the needles to prevent starting a row with a purl stitch, as my beginning-of-needle purls turn out all loose and wonky. I didn’t do that on this sock, and my purl stitches did indeed come out a little floppy-looking.

So is there a secret I don’t know to good-looking purl stitches at the beginning of a row? And since I clearly don’t know the secret yet, do you think the floppiness will smooth out after a nice, firm blocking?

Also, anyone want to take bets on whether I’m actually going to finish two of these bad boys in time for the Sockapalooza deadline???

Good for what ails ya

At least if what ails you is an excess of stockinette socks.

The cure entailed knitting:

- one more repeat on the Monkey, which was given a temporary stay of execution by virtue of being a tremendously entertaining knit. Also, everyone but me seemed to think the colors looked fine, so I'm giving it a go.

- 1.5 inches of twisted rib and the first repeat on the Embossed Leaves socks, from Favorite Socks. I don't think it looks anything like the pattern in the book so far, but I'll give it another round because it's awfully fun to knit, and much faster (for me) than the Monkey. Plus my Sockapalooza sock pal's socks certainly won't knit themselves, and I want to give her something pretty.



And that's more than enough moderately challenging knitting for one weekend! It's back to stockinette socks for my commute.

In a rut

I think I'm in a stockinette rut. Part of the problem is my deep and abiding love for self-striping sock yarn. Even sock yarn like the Lorna's Laces that misbehaves so very badly.

After frogging the pooly Jaywalker, I decided a plain stockinette sock, with a picot edge would be perfect. And it turned out fairly nicely. Of course, I could barely yank the thing onto my feet pre-blocking, so I'm hoping for a blocking miracle wherein the yarn relaxes enough that it will fit the recipient.

And by "hoping for a blocking miracle", I mean "planning to frog and reknit."



I suppose I could spice things up a bit by doing a Jaywalker, but the combination of my very tight gauge and the Jaywalker's lack of stretch makes it unlikely a Jaywalker would fit anyone but my friend Megan, she of the dainty feet. I love Megan dearly, but there are other people I should be knitting for.

Like TB. Kristy asked me what went wrong with the brown socks, after all my careful measuring, and I told her that, despite my careful measuring, I just decided to wing it with how many stitches to cast on and how many stitches to pick up at the gusset and how long to knit the foot. Turns out, winging it doesn't work so well.

Not learning my lesson, I promptly did the same thing with this sock.



The yarn is the delicious Austermann Step, which I won in a contest over at the Craft Pirate's. The Daft Crafter suggested we tell everyone that the Pirate's prizes were utter crap to improve our chances of winning her contests, but she has wonderful taste in prizes. The yarn is self-striping in greens, with little red tweedy bits and is an absolute joy to knit with. You should all go to her blog all the time, just in case she has a contest. And because she's funny. And an excellent knitter, but all modest and unassuming about it anyway.

The Step yarn is infused with aloe vera and jojoba oil. I'm also using vacation-purchased Lantern Moon rosewood needles, and the amazingly soft yarn and beautiful needles are such a tactile pleasure that I just keep knitting. Even though I really did intend to just knit a gauge swatch. But after casting on 50 stitches for the swatch and realizing I knit much differently in the round than I do back-and-forth, I thought I might as well just cast on another 14 stitches and start a sock. I'm getting about 7 stitches per inch (a miraculous and previously unachievable sock yarn gauge for me), and thinking this sock might have TB written all over it.

I also need to start on my Sockapalooza sock. My sock pal seems to like pink, and doesn't like mismatched socks. My sock yarn stash runs heavy towards the variegated and the orange self-striping, so there really wasn't anything in the stash that would suit her. Clearly, I needed some new yarn.



Knit-from-Your-Stash officially begins on Sunday, so I slid this one in just under the wire. Thanks for the encouragement - I really think it's doable.

And finally, the mysterious and very funny Francois reappeared in the comments. I get a lot of amount of mileage out of the comment you made about being entitled to call yourself the Slayer after removing spiders from the bedroom, but I don't know who you are! Do you have a blog? If not, an email address? If you are (sadly) blogless, I'm at arieltinks AT yahoo DOT com, if you want to, er, reveal yourself.

After careful consideration

I reviewed the ratio of Finished Objects to New Yarn purchases reported recently on this blog, and it doesn't look good. In fact, it's a little embarassing. Lots of new yarn. Not so much with the finished objects.

So I'm considering joining Knit From Your Stash 2007 for the second half of the year. I have so many beautiful sock yarns and so many nice sweater yarns that it's just foolish to keep buying more yarn.

So, here are the modified rules I'm considering:

1. The Knit-From-Your-Stash-a-Thon will start July 1, 2007 and end December 31, 2007.

2. I will not buy yarn during that time, with a few exceptions.

2.a. The clever knitter behind Knit-From-Your Stash had an exemption for sock yarn. Tempting, but sock yarn is a big part of the problem. So no sock yarn. Eek!

2.b. Yarn may be purchased for a specific requested knitted gift. I will make every effort not to encourage recipients in the direction of a yarn I want to buy or try. That would be cheating.

2.c. If I run out of yarn mid-project, I can buy enough to finish the project.

2.d. If I go to Rhinebeck, it does not count.

3. Yarny gifts and swaps are also permitted.

What do you think? Reasonable?

I thought festival and festive had a common root

TB and I went to the Phantom Gourmet BBQ Beach Party this afternoon. For the non-Bostonians, the Phantom Gourmet does restaurant reviews and food events and has an enormous cult-like following of purple-clad "Phans." We received purple mardi gras beads at the door, and I noticed there were quite a lot of people wearing dozens of strings of the purple beads, presumably from different Phantom events. Or possibly from other Phantom Phans they killed in order to absorb their strength (and mardi gras beads) a la Highlander. Though probably the former.

And while I've never been a huge fan of the show, the nice thing is that the Phantom visits and reviews restaurants anonymously, so his/her restaurant experience is uncolored by the preferential treatment usually accorded to a known food writer.

And I do love me some smoked pork products, so the fest seemed like a good idea. Because here's what I thought would happen. I would go, stand in line for 5-10 minutes per stand, get a three rib sampler (possibly with macaroni and cheese on the side when available), share said three rib sampler with TB, wash it down with cold beer, and repeat until I felt like I might throw up.

Here's what actually happened.



These are not happy beach party people. These are hot, hungry, angry people waiting in ill-defined lines for well over an hour - at each stand - without beer. Because you could only drink beer in the beer garden area, which was separate from the barbecue-buying area.

I don't know why I thought no one else would want BBQ on a gorgeous summer day, but I never would have gone if I knew it would be like that. The barbecue itself was passable, though I think it would have to actually be orgasmically good to justify an hour+ wait to buy it.

As for the "beach party" aspect, the event was held at our City Hall plaza, which mostly looks like this.



Clearly, the location was lacking both the "natural" and "oceanic" aspects that usually characterize a beach. Also missing from City Hall are "architectural charm" and "aesthetic pleasure," but that's another matter entirely.

I suppose the event organizers did make an effort in the "beach party" direction.



Unless this is actually a giant ashtray. Or a litter box. I'm not sure.

Ok, rant over. Your regularly scheduled programming of too-small socks will return tomorrow.

There's something wrong with the sheep

One of the knitting group ladies found the trailer for this gem a few months ago, but Black Sheep isn't playing yet in Boston. I know this because I check. Every. Single. Week.

Evil Dead meets mutant sheep ravenous for human flesh? How awesome is that?!

So imagine how thrilled I was when TB called to tell me that it's available RIGHT NOW via Comcast On Demand, in the IFC in Theaters section. I didn't know it was possible to love a cable company, but I find myself thinking awfully fond thoughts about Comcast right now.

I know what I'll be watching tonight, how about you?

Boyfriend socks

Not just for boyfriend's anymore!

So I knit a pair of socks for TB. I carefully measured his ankle and instep and foot. I knew he preferred that the stripes match up fairly well, so I went to extraordinary lengths to ensure the randomly self-striping yarn striped similarly on both socks. My loathing of weaving in ends ensured that, while the sock knitting was officially completed on June 3, the ends were not woven in until last weekend.

If you look at the finished socks, you'll notice something funny. Despite my best efforts, the damn things still don't match! When I pointed this out to TB, he assured me that he liked them just fine. Whew!



What the pictures don't show is that the stupid socks in no way fit on his man-size feet, despite my measuring and pattern adjusting and added width and length. I had him try on the first sock, which he said fit nicely. However, upon trying on both finished socks (thousands and thousands of stitches after he had the opportunity to mention that the first one DID NOT FIT), they are clearly way too small.

I spent several hours pissily blaming him for this. I realize this is both illogical and unfair.

Then I thought a little more about the not-insignificant upside to the situation.



They fit me perfectly.