Sticks and carrots

With the start of school, Mother Nature decided that it was time to get back to normal weather patterns - so long glorious English summer of 2013 (truly glorious!), hello stereotypical grey damp autumn. The mornings have had that lovely bite to the air that means true woolen season is just around the corner. This is absolutely my favorite time of year (although I could do with a bit less rain...).

With the newly autumnal temperatures comes the ever predictable bout of startitis - I find myself wanting to cast on ALL THE THINGS! And to be fair, there are quite a number of things I should be casting on - two sample knits for patterns to be released next month first off, not to mention finishing off a shawl that's been on the needles for a couple of months now. But I find myself obsessed with the idea of casting on the perfect fall sweater - roomy, cozy, with long sleeves that come down over my hands and fronts that can wrap around. More specifially, I want the perfect fall sweater knit out of this.

My combo sweater spin from last winter when I was putting the miniSpinner through it's paces. So this week, I succumbed to the overwhelming desire to cast on, and knit...a swatch.

I think I've got the right needle size worked out, and I know the borders and cuffs are going to be in moss stitch.

Now it's just a question of using this project as a carrot to get the other stuff done. But if I play my cards right (and am a good designer do-bee), I can have a new sweater soon. I. Can't. Wait.

One step forward, two steps back

Fresh off the high of finishing my Whisper Cardigan last week (pictures and post to follow as soon as I get some photos taken), I decided to tackle another UFO lurking next to my couch. This time: my  handspun Stasis Pullover, aka my P3 Today's (not)Sweater.

When last discussed on the blog, I had just come to terms with the fact that my swatch lied to me I didn't swatch properly, and had ripped out the four inches of sweater that I had to start over again with my new gauge and numbers from a smaller size. I managed to get most of the way through the waist decreases on the new version, which then sat in a crumpled pile for about 6 months. Last night I picked it up again, determined to get some good progress made. Then I realised (after referencing my spreadsheet that I was supposed to follow for both stitch AND row counts) that I had completely f-d up the waist decreases. Given my much-larger-then-called for row gauge, I was supposed to decrease every 8 rows. I had managed to ignore that directive entirely and go with the every 18 row decrease spacing called for in the pattern. Fabulous.

So I pulled the body off the needles to rip back to 8 rows about the first set of decreases so I could get them sorted out. And as it was lying in my lap, I had a sudden, terrifying thought: "You know, this looks kind of big..."

So I pulled out my trusty tape measure and checked. Several times. And discovered, in fact, not only was it "kind of big", my spreadsheet-calculated with-my-gauge measurement of 42 inches was actually...(wait for it)...46 inches. W.T.everloving.F!!!????!!!

Now here's the kicker - my gauge is still 6 sts/inch, but the sweater is coming out 4 inches too big. Either I cast on some bastardized number of stitches, or gremlins are coming and stretching my sweater out when I sleep. After much wringing of hands, gnashing of teeth and tearing of hair, I ripped out again, cast on the number of stitches for the size 37, and got most of the way through the ribbing.

This morning, on the train, I realized that I cast on the number of the stitches for the body (240) not the number of stitches required for the ribbing (228).

I am beginning to think that this sweater is cursed. Truly, truly cursed. And I'm not sure it will be finished by October and the next installation of P3/Today's sweater.

But it will make a good story...;-)

Finis

My first pair of socks in just over a year (last pair were finished 20 March 2012).

Pattern: no pattern used, just started at the toe, increased till it seemed about right, knit the foot for a while, did a short row heel over >50% of the stitches (for extra heel room), knit the leg until I ran out of yarn (Sock A) or it was the same length as the first one (Sock B).
Yarn: chain plied handspun, "Gobbler" Cheviot from the Hello Yarn Fiber Club, 95 yds for Sock A and 130 yds (not all used) for Sock B.
Needles: US 4/3.5 mm and US 3/3.25 mm. I should have gone down one more needle size for Sock B, as the fabric is a bit too loose for socks IMHO, but c'est la vie.
Start/Finish: 11 March 2013-20 April 2013.
Gauge: yes
Comments: so...I love this colorway beyond all imagining, and am very happy with the socks except for one thing: clearly my winging the pattern (i.e. not using the Sock Fitting Bible*) has resulted in socks that are too big for me. The heavier weight (thicker yarn) sock is better, but I got a bit too caught up in making the stripes line up perfectly (mostly) and ended up with a second sock that is just a hair too loose. So be it - these will be lovely around the house socks when the cold weather shows up again. In June**.


My next pair of handspun socks (handspun skeins in this post, also with a large edible bird-inspired name) will be done a bit more mathematically, and so hopefully will fit a bit better.

* any and all books about socks written by Cat Bordhi.
** a certain fatalistic British-ness is infiltrating my attitude towards the weather. I suspect this is completely unavoidable. My apologies!

Lost: My Sock Mojo

I used to knit socks. Lots of socks. I had grand aspirations of knitting my way through Cookie A's first book from cover to cover. I got through the first two and then...radio silence.

I used to design socks. Lots of socks. Two socks for the annual Sock Madness knitalong, one of which was difficult enough (read: effing fiddley) to be the final sock in the competition (the other was the second-to-last round). Socks inspired by the Tour de France. Kids socks. All sorts of socks. But then...the well dried up.

The last pair of socks I knit: started a year ago today.

They are lovely socks, toe-up, from handspun superwash Corriedale dyed by the fabulously talented Amy King of Spunky Eclectic. No patterning or fancy stitch work, just plain stockinette socks.

And since that fateful day in late March 2012 when they were finished? Not one single solitary sock has been cast on, or even contemplated. What's happened to me? It's not like I don't have truckloads of sock yarn to play with. Or enough sock books to sink the Titanic, full of fabulous, inspiring, gorgeous patterns. But I'm finding it incredibly difficult to even consider casting on for a sock, and inertia has me in its deadly grasp. What's a former sock knitter to do?

Last week may have given me the solution. We were gathered for our monthly spinning night last week, and our hostess was not feeling inspired with spinning. So she disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a bag of leftover handspun and some needles. Within a few minutes she had cast on and made measurable progress on a sock toe.

Just like that.

Clearly the answer to my missing sock mojo is to start baiting the trap with handspun. First on the docket is this:

Gobbler Cheviot that I spun up in February. To be followed closely or even simultaneously with this:

Turkey Day Cheviot that is being spun up now (singles are done and need to be plied). Both these yarns have been spun specifically to create fantastic stripey socks, so all I need to do now is wind up the yarn and cast on.

Can someone please hold my hand???? wanders off whimpering...

Easy sweater gratification

Sweaters are so satisfying to knit and wear, but at some point in the process, things definitely start to drag, and it seems like you're a) not making any progress, and therefore b) never going to finish and get to wear the beautiful creation you've been slaving over. In the last two weeks I have discovered two solutions to the problem of sweater doldrums.

Solution #1: Use bulky yarn.

Pattern: Top-down raglan, a la Barbara Walker
Yarn: Handspun Porpoise Fur Shetland/silk in "Magpie", approximately 500 yds/1 lb of bulky, squishy 2-ply.
Needles: US 11/8.0 mm and US 10.5/6.5 mm
Start/finish: I started spinning on 10th Feb, finished the singles on the 11th, finished the plying on the 12th, and started knitting on the 13th I think? Stalled out on the 19th by running out of yarn, but finished up yesterday and blocked it last night. It's still drying...

This is my barter sweater, and it was started and finished (spinning and knitting) in less then two weeks. It would have been done in about 9 days, but I ran out of yarn and had to spin up a bit more, so that stretched it out a bit longer. Still, 9 days for the whole project, and about a week to actually knit the sweater, is pretty hard to beat for almost-instant sweater gratification.

I wanted to get it blogged today, so the pictures are somewhat less then stellar. I'll try for some better ones tomorrow if the weather cooperates...

Solution #2: Knit baby sweaters.

Pattern: Henry's Sweater by Sara Elizabeth Kellner
Yarn: Adriafil Duo Comfort Classic, 131 yds/50 gr, the 3-6 month size used less then two balls.
Needles: US 5/3.75 mm
Start/finish: 15th Feb - 18th Feb 2013
Comments/mods: talk about instant gratification! My new nephew arrived on Valentine's Day, I started on Friday after some frenzied stash diving, and the knitting was done on Tuesday. Boo and I bought some buttons yesterday and I sewed on the snaps and buttons today.

I did a few mods. First, I did fewer short rows on the shawl collar because I didn't want it too get too long and floppy. I like this mini-shawl alot.

I worked the garter stitch edging on the sleeves back and forth instead of in the round. It was only 5 rows or something, so sewing up that tiny bit on the end of the sleeves wasn't a big deal.


I also skipped the buttonholes, choosing instead to sew on the buttons on the outside as a decorative element, and using snaps to hold it closed. I think this will work better for getting the sweater on quickly and for keeping it closed.

I'm sorely tempted to put leather elbow patches on, since the baby's Dad is a professor. I think in the interests of getting it sent off to the States quickly, I'll forgo that, but wouldn't it be adorable?