Casting About

In my hysteria enthusiasm to start the Kingscot with my newly refurbished yarn, I managed a new trick.  My loathing for ribbing stems mostly from its inelastic (and inelegant) cast on edge.  And if I dislike 1 x 1 rib, I hate 2 x 2 at least twice as much. 

But there is no denying that the 2 x 2 rib used in the Kingscot cardigan is not only beautiful, it's an integral part of the silhouette.  So 2 x 2 it had to be, but I just couldn't settle for the usual cast on edge.  Enter my pal (okay, I've never met her, but she's sure given me a lot of cool tricks) Montse Stanley.  Montse maintains that there is no perfect cast on edge for 2 x 2 rib because they all slant unattractively.  This one slants as well, but I think it's as close to perfect as knitters have gotten.  Read on, try it out, and weigh in!  Do you know a better way?  Yes, it's fiddly, and there's that waste yarn to mess with.  But I think the end result is totally worth the trouble.  Here's how:

1.    Cast on 1/2 the number of stitches required, using smooth waste yarn.  Any old cast on will do - just get the stitches on.  This only works for even numbers; in my case, I ultimately need 80 stitches, so I cast on 40.

40 sts cast on in smooth strong waste yarn.

2.    Now purl one row:

One row purled.

3.    Thus begins the fiddly bit:  Knit the next row, but instead of wrapping the yarn around the needle once as you normally would, wind it around a second time.  That's two wraps for every single stitch.

Knit row, with each stitch wrapped twice instead of the usual once.

4.    Break the waste yarn and start working with your real yarn on the next row, which will be all purls.  Notice that as you knit into the twice-wrapped stitches from the previous row, you get great big elongated stitches of waste yarn.  These will help you in the next step.  Work a total of 4 rows in your real yarn.  You still only have half the number of required stitches (in my case, 40).

4 rows worked in real yarn.  Double-wrapped waste yarn row creates elongated waste stitches.

5.    Now find another needle a couple of sizes smaller than the one you are using for the ribbing.  Mine is a gold one in this photo.   Working from the wrong side, use your finer needle to pick up the purl bumps of real yarn from its first row.

Picking up the purl bumps of real yarn.

Keep going until you have picked up every single purl bump onto your finer needle.

All the purl bumps are now stitches on the finer needle (below).  Original needle is still in place (top).

6a.    Next, using the mate to your original needle (same size as the ribbing will be worked in), purl 2 sts from the top needle.

Purl 2 sts.

6b.    Now knit 2 sts from the lower (finer) needle, and repeat to the end of the row.

p2, k2, repeat to end.

This is what it looks like at the end of steps 6a & 6b.  You have folded those first 4 rows of real knitting in half horizontally, into a tubular edge.

Kickass 2 x 2 tubular edge shown from the wrong side.

Kickass 2 x 2 tubular edge shown from the right side.

7.     Last, either cut or unknot the waste yarn and pull it out.

Waste yarn removal.

Continue in 2 x 2 rib as you normally would, but with a well-earned degree of smugness.

Totally elastic tubular edge, with no visible cast on loops at lower edge.

Fiddly and worth it.

I will never approach hat edges or sock tops, or any 2 x 2 edge with fear or loathing again.  And now you, Gentle Readers, are free as well.  Knit Long and Prosper.
 

More String

In which I ignore perfectly sound advice. 

My pal Carson said "You won't like spinning that.  It's for needle felting".  He was perfectly correct.  I would probably not like spinning, or wearing an entire sweater made of this fluff.  But it's put up in these adorable little knots of roving that are every different color!  How could I resist?  So I made a bunch of cute little 2-ply skeins, and when I'm done there will be twelve different colors of yarn to play with!

And in case that wasn't enough fun, check out my e-bay score:

These are the coolest old textile mill bobbins.  They are marked "Gull Silk Co." on the end, and needed only a bath in oil soap to be ready for action.  What a fun way to store my tiny skeins!  I searched for "antique wooden spools" on e-bay, in case you would like to do the same.  So other than an unscheduled break to redecorate my daughter's room (yeah, I know - how is there an unscheduled redecoration?), I've just been sitting around,playing with string. 

The room redecoration began with an innocent attempt to change the sheets on Lindsay's bed, which caused the bed to actually fall apart.  In Pieces.  So it became obvious that she was ready to have the more sturdy (and larger) antique iron bed moved up from the garage.  And while we were between beds and the whole place was in chaos anyway, I thought I might as well paint her room, which I'd been blowing off meaning to attend to for the entire four years we've lived here.  Which led to a whole new set of bed linens, and well, you know how it goes.  All I wanted to do was change the damn sheets and the next thing you know I'm hanging off a ladder replacing a light fixture.  Go Figure. 

Remember when I used to knit things?  Me either.
 

Bed of Roses

Once upon a time, I bought a bunch of my favorite yarn on sale.  This was not an unusual occurrence, except that the yarn in question was not only my favorite kind, it was also an extremely unfortunate color:

And by "unfortunate", I mean so ugly as to cause Scottish Terriers to fall instantly asleep to avoid looking at it.  Don't get me wrong: I'm no pink-hater.  I like a good pink better than the next guy, and I will go to some fairly respectable lengths of denial to include pink in my stash, especially when it's on sale.  But I just couldn't find a permanent place in my heart for seven skeins of Pepto Bubble Gum.

I shut my eyes and held on to the seven skeins of Pepto, knowing that one day a pattern would come along which called for my favorite yarn, and probably on a day when I lacked the wherewithal to dash out and buy anything new. 

Sure enough, I revisited a pattern-in-waiting this morning by happenstance, and was consumed by the urge to cast on for it immediately.  Being a confirmed cheapass responsible guardian of fiscal resources, I remembered the poor little skeins of Pepto, waiting patiently in the stash.  The color was even worse than I recalled, but it only encouraged me to press on with my Cunning Plan.

Real knitters know that acid-based dyes are the best way to go for changing the color of woolen string.  I even have plans to get me summa that one day, when I grow up.  But today is not that day (tomorrow is not looking good, either), so I headed straight to the Kool-Aid aisle in the discount store across the street from the dentist where my kids were in adjoining recliners this morning.  For reasons defying all explanation, K Mart was all out of Kool-Aid today, except for Lemonade, which would not have been much help to my Pepto Gum yarn.  Unphased, I grabbed some Rit, reasoning that a complete disaster with it would still not be worse than the color I was starting with.

Since the whole pursuit had "Knitting Gods, Smite Here" written all over it, I decided to go for broke and try kettle dyeing for the first time, while I was at it.

The result?  Even knitters have to catch a break now and then, even if it's only a game of odds: 

The unfortunate Pepto Bubble is magically transformed to a Bed of Roses.  And how smug am I that I held on to that poor pink yarn?  Little bit. 

Lesson?  Ugly Yarn + Cheap Dye + Pressing Need to Cast On = Acts of desperation where three wrongs can make a right.

Cover me: I'm going in...