Thrilled to my Toes. And Heels.

If I were to describe my Sock Summit 2011 experience in culinary terms, I'd call it a Smorgasbord of delights.  Everywhere I turned, a brand-new treat was waiting.
 

I finally met my idol, Teri Shea.  And she showed me her work in progress, which this photo does not do justice. (Sidebar: Is convention center carpet even made in this universe? I cannot imagine a profit-seeking enterprize coming up with this as a viable carpet design).

The marketplace was a triumph of retail therapy.  Just walking through it was an affirmation that if you play with string, not only is it okay, it's downright cool.  And you could never, if you lived to be a thousand, have too much of it.

Here are two teachers I love:  Franklin Habit and Carson Demers.  They are giving the best of themselves to knitting and knitters, and we are so fortunate to receive it.

Clara Parkes (speaking of giving to knitters!) and I signed books at the Unicorn booth, where a wee one with her mommy stopped by to chat.  Getta load of the mini circle jacket!

Star-struck much?  I know.  I never get over seeing my name on the door of a classroom.  I may have asked a knitter to pinch me.

And best of all:  My Knitters.  Here are some who learned to do stranded colorwork for socks.

Nearly 2000 knitters took classes at Sock Summit 2011.  80 of them spent time with me.  That means that each one of them gave me three hours of their precious knitting time, for a total of 240 hours.  I am humbled and honored by such a gift.
 

We really had fun together.  And they all made knitting, which means that their hard work was rewarded.

Being at Sock Summit was like being called home by the Mother Ship.  Nowhere else can knitters be so immersed in and surrounded by their Own Kind.  Finding the long lost members of your tribe is a visceral and emotional experience.  One that takes a long time to assimilate.

Here's to digesting the Smorgasbord.

At Last, It Happens

It's finally Christmas!  Or Mardi Gras!  Or the Mother Ship has called us home.  Any way you say it, the biggest thing in knitting is happening again.  And it's today.  Somebody pinch me.

Last night was the teacher's dinner, where everybody got to meet and greet, and generally amp up for the next four days.  And let me tell you: We are Amped.  The caliber of the knitters assembled in that room was something to behold.  Sobering, (Almost) to think of that mucuh talent, assembled in one place, to celebrate the art and science of playing with string.  Oh man, what a lucky bunch of knitters we are:  Today we meet the students!

We who are about to sock salute you.
 

Peachy

One of July's design (over) commitments is a piece for the new 60 More Quick Baby Knits , coming out next year.  True to form when working with Vogue, the design changed radically from what I initially envisioned.  Most notably, in the color.  I pitched stripes, they came back with solid.  Cantaloupe solid, no less.  I begged to add just one more color.  They said okay, but it has to be more of the same: Coral.  Done, said I, feeling like I had reclaimed a bit of lost intellectual ground.

And you know what?  It's not bad:

This is all I can show you, but I think you'll like it when the book comes out. 

And let's face it:  You can put just about anything on a baby (they have trouble getting away) and it will look adorable: "Aaawwwww...look at the widdle crumpled lettuce wrapper dress! Soooo cuuuute!"

The book goes (mercifully) to a different burner this week, while I cover myself in socks.  That's right:  We're at T-3 days to Sock Summit, which here in Portland, translates to the stoppage of all other meaningful activity, if you play with string.  And that's pretty much everybody (everybody interesting, anyway).  All the knitters ask each other the same questions: What are you taking?  What are you teaching?  Are you READY?  Here are my answers:  Estonian socks with Nancy Bush, Knitted Tessellations with Franklin Habit, Kilt Hose, Stranded Colorwork for Socks, Yes, and No. 

I am beginning to feel that this is the July that went on until February.  I have so many things to do that time has begun to stand still; like when they shoot the bullets in slow motion at Keanu Reeves in the Matrix.  They're not really hitting him, but they're sure coming close.

I can't complain though.  How many people get to say that their job this week is to celebrate the handknit sock with a few thousand like-minded geniuses?

Love. My. Job.