Magic Carpet Ride

Gentle Readers, remember last time I mentioned a little sock I'm working on?   It's still waiting for a mate, and some instructions to be written, but last night I stayed up way too late playing with it, and here is the result:

It's made in from Abstract Fiber Supersock, which yarn you already know I dearly love.  The sproing.  The spark.  All that, and a colorway like this:  "Magic Carpet".

A sock called Magic Carpet has to have cords and tassels.  Absolute requirement.

And Topknots.  Naturally.  Whimsical, no?  Festive, even.  A person just could not take things too seriously while wearing socks like these.  These are the sort of socks I'd wear under my dress slacks to the Big Important Meeting, just to remind myself that I'll never really belong to The Man. 

Socks to live by, now I think about it.

As soon as I finish the pattern (and the other sock), you'll be able to get them in kit form here.

Things My EZPS Taught Me

Here's my finished EZPS. 

I had fun with it, despite the lessons it wanted to teach me, namely:

1.  You should remember that self-striping yarn really wants a different colorway for contrast, (like you learned the hard way last year but completely forgot about).

2.  Yoke sweaters speak in a completely different fitting vernacular (DUH.), which bears further study.  Bout a million years oughtta be enough.

3.  You can get away with stranding worsted-weight yarn, if and only if 
        a.  You are limiting the stranded areas to only part of the body (preferably a cold part)
        b.  The garment can be opened up the front for ventilation, or 
        c.  The garment will be worn only in areas devoid of central heat.  

4.  It's extremely clever to buy a bunch of buttons that you like when they are on sale, and hoard them until the day they are needed.  
        a. Unless, of course, you fail to buy the correct number of said buttons, or at least count them before deciding how many buttonholes to make.
        b. Never, ever, ever ask "What could possibly go wrong?"; see item 4a.

And now, having enjoyed this little diversion, I'll be returning to my regularly scheduled programming: 

1.  A mitten who has no mate and seems to think she'll be the subject of a class I'm teaching in less than two weeks. 

2.  A sock who is not only still single (notice a theme here?), but lacks an instep or toe, and dreams of becoming a member of a pair within its deadline.

3.  The Frog Prince, who needs some cuffs and some finishing before he can be introduced to the lovely and talented Ms. K., of Technical Editing Fame.  Might be good if I also wrote the pattern before that. 

4.  Two Top-Secret Christmas Present Projects.

5.  There is the little matter of the Relentless Atomic Knitting Book Tour, which I am still on, pretty much every second that I'm not attending the day job.  This weekend it's Seattle, which coincides nicely with Thanksgiving, and some people I know there, who, because they are related to me, are letting me and my family hang out and feast at their place.   They made me promise to bring the beer.  Done and Done.

A Little Good-Natured Ribbing

I have a long and complicated relationship with ribbing.  As a general rule, ribbing is not my friend.  Something about the knitting of it; the relentless moving back and forward of the working strand, the slowness of it; the constant battle with how much or how little it pulls in whatever edge it's applied to; all flummox me.  And it's done to death.  In the language of knitting, ribbing begins far more sentences than it deserves.  In spite of all that, I loves me some corrugated rib.  Just really dig it.  And on a sweater like this, where so much is going on with the yarn anyway, it adds just the right amount of interest and texture, without looking fussy or contrived.

Here's another of our friends, the crochet steek.  Is this photo out of focus, or is the ombred colorwork messing with my vision?  Probably both, but you get the idea:  Just like with the sleeves, reinforce edges first, then...

Steek Porn.  I like this shot, not only because I took it with one hand (my left!) while cutting with the other, but also because you can actually see the individual stitch ladder being cut, between the black crochet stitches.  And yes, I do believe that one day I will seriously jack up a sweater front by standing on my head to photograph the cutting of a steek while actually performing it at the same time.

And here is the demon/angel ribbing, not laying especially flat because it has not been blocked yet.  Note also the strange, volcano-like silhouette of the yoke, pre-blocking.

And a money shot of that ribbing.  This is a special tubular castoff, sewn with a tapestry needle.  Instructions for it and its gifted sibling, my beloved tubular cast-on (no waste yarn required!) are in the back of my book, if you are interested.

Which leaves only one more ribbed edge, this one with buttonholes (saints preserve us), a couple of armpit grafts, and some buttons pending procurement.  I think I'll do myself the favor of making the buttonholes first, and then restricting myself to a choice of buttons that fit them.  Clever plan, that.

What could possibly go wrong?