sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion

I wanted to knit metallic socks, as part of the whole Project Spectrum color series. CRAZY. I could have made some sort of sane adjustment,like beads or buttons, but truth be told…. I wanted metallic socks! Of some kind! Somehow!

And when I saw this skein of Cherry Tree Hill Super Glitz DK that’s got a strand of glitter in the yarn, I just couldn’t resist. I didn’t mind that the colorway, Champlain Sunset, had that evil color, orange, in it.

Because?

GLITTER!

I will admit that I’ll never knit with this yarn again, if only because it’s so terribly similar to plain basic worsted yarn (despite the claim that this is merino), but with a touch of itch, because of that glittery strand. And it’s not smooshy. I missed the smooshy.

But I’m so happy I have glittery socks. There’s just something delightfully weird about having glittery socks.

And something strangely strong-willed, too.

This sock resisted all attempts for embellishment. Yes. I swear to you, it did. I’d meant to do the flame wave pattern from Favorite Socks with them, but you couldn’t even see where I did increases and decreases, because the fabric was just so mottled. But I didn’t want to do a plain stockinette….. and in fact, this pair is actually the first toeup pair I’ve ever done with a patterned foot. Exciting!

I did toeup for the simple reason that I wanted to try Wendy’s new gusseted heel. I have mixed feelings… love the ease of her heel execution, love the gusset, love the fit, love that I get to have my beloved toe… don’t love the aesthetics of the heel itself.

And that aesthetics thing? Shallow, I know. I KNOW. But damn. I guess I’ll have to try Chris’s heel next… she swears it’s the same as my beloved cuffdown flap. And I did like how easy the gusset decreases were with Wendy’s heel. So….

But back to the GLITTER.

I tried to switch to staggered rib patterning on the leg. I really did. It looked so good on this one sock in More Sensational Knitted Socks.But…. no. Just no. I got the message. 2×2 rib all the way through. Yes ma’am. Okay. Knit knit purl purl knit knit purl purl.

I had in mind a gentle rolled cuff, just for the heck of it. I thought it’d be a fun contrast to the rib of the foot and leg, and maybe show off the fabric some. The sock disagreed with me and let the cuff stick out. Straight out. Like a mutant shelf. Yoiks! I got the message….. just bind off in pattern with lace bindoff, no special cuff. Yes ma’am!

And there we are. A simple basic pair of socks. Or they would be, if it was in a simple basic yarn… that GLITTER, though? Not so basic.

And more important…. what the heck color is this pair of socks? I knitted them and I can’t tell. I mean, I know all the individual colors, and I can see it’d go with outfits that contained orange (Um, not that I’d ever wear orange. Can you wear handknit socks in prison?). Or more realistically, brown, pink, or blue. But I mean… what does this read as, overall?

It’s a mystery. A GLITTERY mystery.

a shelf of one’s own

The flowering going on around here has been due to the gramma, who inspired the whole thing with a giant bonquet of peonies. OMG. Do you know HOW GOOD these smell? I wish I had smell-o-vision, just so I could recapture the smell of them for myself.

Have you given up yet? Have you come to see that indeed these flowers are mine? And are still alive? And in one place?

Where o where could I have put them, if they are still catchen free?

Here’s a better picture. Figured it out yet? Where are these flowers? One month and the boys still haven’t destroyed my plants. I call that a WIN.

No? Here’s a hint…. You’ve seen this window before.

may magknits

ADA JUNE

Tiphanie: It’s cute. Definely for a kid only. Maybe for an adult but on weekends only.
Frarochvia: Yeah. I was thinking definitely for a small child only. Adult- a very goofy weekend! But it is definitely cute.
Tiphanie: Hm. Same number of rows so if you need to change sizes, change the gauge. Interesting.
Frarochvia: Yes, it is. Definitely creative too. Cotton yarn hat (you could switch to wool for fall) and that felted flower. Yep, change the yarn and gauge. I do think I’ll try out that flower though. Because hey. Flower pin! Would be fun on a bag.

BRIGID

Frarochvia: A lovely stole.
Tiphanie: Eh. It’s okay. I don’t like collared shawls generally. If you fold it across your shoulder, it will stretch and twist the
collar. So what’s the point? You can’t really slung the ends over your shoulders if you want to keep the collar. So no thanks.
Frarochvia: Yeah. Built-in flipped-up collar to cover the neck more I’m guessing. I like the needle size and yarn called for. That’s what tempts me. But I’d omit the shawl collar. And maybe make it longer.
Tiphanie: Eh. There’s tons of patterns out there. So don’t bother knitting it. I mean, you’re talking about changing a design element. So eh, keep on lookin’.
Frarochvia: Okay. Maybe I should just do a design I like in lace but do it in a big rectangle and do it on big needles and this yarn. I’m actually thinking that would be a good thing.
Tiphanie: Google a curved stole and then use it as a template.
Frarochvia: Faster than traditional, but not boring and um…definitely something I’d wear. I don’t care for the point on the back either. I would prefer a huge rectangle.

DIAMOND GIRL

Tiphanie: Is it me or did she use two different colors?
Frarochvia: Yes she did.
Tiphanie: One white and one off-white.
Frarochvia: And changed them in a bad location in my opinion.
Tiphanie: Um. Yes.
Frarochvia: Should have been lower, under the bust.
Tiphanie: I like the diamonds motifs and I love the neckline. It’s
not saggy. I like the scoop effect.
Frarochvia: Yeah, that part is great.
Tiphanie: But um the ribbed part? Should be lower. I.E. Diamonds for the entire bust.
Frarochvia: I’d change it to be solid, move it down lower, yeah. I think it’s just too short, the top motif. But the idea of this is actually great I think.
Tiphanie: I like the sleeves. Reminds me of a summer-y blouse you know? But I’m not so nuts about the i-cord.
Frarochvia: Bell sleeved. Yes, I’d omit the i-cords for sure.
Tiphanie: *sigh* Would have been a lovely piece if the diamond bust was maybe two inches lower?
Frarochvia: I can see knitting this with all these modifications in mind. Wow, she made it in silk. Insane. I understand why she made it ribbed, because silk isn’t elastic. So it’s actually in my opinion not a design element but is…a response to the yarn.

FRIDAY

Tiphanie: It’s okay. It’s different and no square ends.
Frarochvia: I like it. I got two skeins of alpaca and silk I want to do with this. Same designer who did argosy.
Tiphanie: Yeah. I was wondering if she designed it also. While it doesn’t scream my name, I’m intrigued. It’s different and I haven’t seen this before.
Frarochvia: I can see doing this in a more lightweight yarn. Hence my alpaca silk. And my alpaca silk is pink!

RIVENDELL

Tiphanie: I don’t like it. A cabled cloche. Okay it’s a cloche.
Frarochvia: I think it’s neat.
Tiphanie: Alas, it didn’t make its way to my list of must-haves.
Frarochvia: Not sure I’d ever make it (still want to make Sirdar dammit) but yeah it’s neat.

REDUCE REUSE RECYCLE

Tiphanie: It’s interesting…
Frarochvia: Kind of ugly.
Tiphanie: I’m not gonna knit one. I’m just going to buy a bag. I’m thinking- if I accidently pace it near a heater, I’m going to have scrape off melted plastic strings. Or even on a hot car vent. What if you put hot food items inside?
Frarochvia: Or make a bag out of Cotton Fleece or Sugar n’ Cream or something. I’ll never make it for the simple reason that the boys would chew it to death for me.
Tiphanie: I prefer a canvas bag. I have a special folded bag – wallet-sized- in my handbag. No way am I gonna spend two hours knitting um…this bag when I can knit something else.
Frarochvia: I buy canvas bags. On 50% off special of course.

ZOE

Tiphanie: *unprintable language* [you want to know what Tiphanie said, ask Frarochvia but it's not suitable. Be warned]
Frarochvia: Bad Tiphanie bad.
Tiphanie: So it’s ruffles or what?
Frarochvia: I like the ruffles. Different color, yes?
Tiphanie: I’m sorry but I DO NOT LIKE THIS. I hate the ruffle effect. I hate it.
Frarochvia: Oh well.
Tiphanie: If it was thinner maybe. Or more swirly or ruffled. BUT BLACK THICK I-CORD?
Frarochvia: More ruffles, says the Tiphanie!
Tiphanie: No thanks.
Frarochvia: No i-cord. Just the ruffle curled onto itself.
Tiphanie: Oh whatever. So just knit an i-cord and poke a wire inside. Twist and ruffle it.
Frarochvia: The straight piece of stockinette mimics it. They’re attached directly to the fabric.

a lily in the hand

I have long thought about naming a mythical future daughter Anneliese Lily. Or Lily Anneliese. I can’t decide which is better.

But the names are not accidential. In an alternate reality, I’m a Holocaust historian, and the famous Anne Frank was born Anneliese Marie Frank. And Lily? Asiatic lilies are amongst my favorite flowers, their delicate (yes) pinkness, their open blooms, the tall shafts of leafy goodness. They seem to embody an ethereal fragility, yet are amongst the hardiest flowers I know.

Which is perhaps a lot of symbology to weigh onto a still-mythical child.

But for the now, lilies, in their lush spindly prime.

flowers and catchen: never the twain should meet

For a catstaff, the most difficult bit of reality, arguably, is the fundamental incompatiblity of plantly goodness with catchenal goodness.

Don’t get get the boys wrong.

The Matisse loves plants. Especially flowers. Pink flowers. With lots of petals. Very much! Hug them and squeeze them and nuzzle them and dig them and call them George. Yes! And of course, strew dirt all over the floor, as much square footage as possible please, and as much dirt rubbed into his fur, please please! Mmmmmmmmmmmmm dirt. Dirty dirty dirt with happy drool!

I wondered if he was so happy because he got to have all the fun of making a giant mess without the pain and drudgery of cleaning it all up.

Probably not. He’s not evil nor is he capable of such machinations.

See?

Unalike, perhaps, the Picasso.

Who, on the other hand, prefers cut flowers. In tall vases. To rub against and lean upon. To accidentally knock over. For the fantastic keeeeeeeeeerash! Again! Again! Again!

And then there’s me. I love flowers, and prefer them upright and intact. Oddly enough.

Would I be able to combine the two? Could plants and catchen live in harmony? Would I be pushing my catstaff luck?

Barry Mainlow, I apologize

Because this sock? Is my Barry Mainlow sock.

Why?

Because it’s so ugly it’s kind of cute.

I think so, anyway. It’s made with Knit Picks Memories in the discontinued-for-probably-good-reason Mesa colorway. Knit Picks Memories yarn is unbelievably soft to knit and handle… I know though that this means it’ll pill and such soon… and I’m ok with that, even though this is meant to be a walking pair of socks.

I’m sorry, I just couldn’t face a full height pair of socks in this color.

I went opposites on this sock, as you can see. Hemmed plain stockinette cuff, and ribbed instep. The contrast amuses me, even more so because the idea of the socks themselves were inspired by ms stitch-n-snitch’s Nancy Drew socks. Really! Can you say almost but not quite completely unalike her socks? Knew you could. But it’s true! Absolutely true.

I admit my favorite part of the sock is the heel turn. These perfect little fat stripes! I’m so… easily amused. And then that heel flap! The stripes! The mottling! The texture!

It’s a pity the rest of the sock is… kind of really ugly. I’m not sure what throws off this sock exactly, but it’s off somehow. Definitely off enough that people who normally gush at the things I show them? The light dies in their eyes, and an awkward silence ensues, before I leap in and say, it’s ok, it’s ugly. I know it is.

And the gramma said, “it’s not that bad.” Which, really? Same thing.

I promise I’ll make a second one. As soon as I find the yarn for it. It’s around here somewhere.

mayday

Is there anything more maddening than a sock pattern that will not cooperate? Mostly because of your own ineptness? Yes.

More maddening is the inability to simply give up. To say, screw this, I’m gonna knit something else. A smarter saner person would have, I’m guessing.

But I am not that smart or sane.

The first lesson took me a few iterations of the first row to do. Viz: how to count. And more importantly, how “make one” doesn’t mean “knit one then make one”. I knew that. I swear I did. But for some reason it took me a half hour for that small yet salient truth to reach my brain.

The second lesson? Took 1728 stitches to sink in. I was doing the double decreases all wrong. And thus the only options were to frog, set it on fire, or to start over with another yarn.

I thought about setting it on fire. Because I was so mad at the sock. As if it’d been the offender, see. As opposed to….. um. Me. My dumbassery.

Did problems go away when I decided to switch yarns?

Are you kidding?

Armed with a yummy yummy worsted yarn, Artyarns Supermerino #109, I mangaged to knit an entire 24 row repeat. Without errors. Stupendous, right? Except the whole thing was too small to pass over my heel easily.

Bye bye.

Try again. But don’t frog the whole thing, just the pattern stitches, keep the cuff.

Bet you can see where THAT was going…

Knit half of the chart. Realize the cuff is entirely too small. Because you keep trying it on and going hmmm, this is tight. Are you sure you’ll like this, self? Frog the WHOLE thing. Sigh deeply.

And start over. I’m on row 4 of the chart, right? Grooving along. It’s the process it’s the process it’s the process it’s the process.

No stinking pattern is gonna get the best of me. I swear it. I swear it.

Right.

Except when I gave up. Because? By row 20 I somehow mangaged to have one side on an entirely different row repeat than the other side.

I give up.

Give me a stockinette sock.

Are you there, yarn? It’s me, Rebecca

I’d been seriously questioning my knitting mojo recently. I love stockinette, I do, I do, but would I ever knit something else?

Apparently, not lately.

But at least you can do fun things with stockinette. Like make ruffles! Crazy ruffles. On hand-dyed pink yarn that Chris gifted me. That I turned into a neckwarmer. Because heck. Even I couldn’t screw that up!

One end is demure and plain. The other end is crazy and ruffled. It’s almost like two neckwarmers in one! Or something. Or maybe I ran out of yarn. I’ll never tell. Truthfully though, I folded in the neckwarmer so it’s double thickness, but decided not to join the ends together permanently, just in case I wanted to stretch it longer to go over my nose or something… you never know.

One more thing in my winter supplies box, check! And yes, I’d wear the ruffles tucked in. But it’ll be my secret.

hope in a jar

This will sound weird, but it’s a revelation for me… an affirmation perhaps. Or a reminder. The pain waxes and wanes. Comes and goes. If (when) it comes back after you declare yourself painfree, it’s not a failure. It’s not necessarily a step back. Recovery is a process. Just one big giant process.

You know, like with knitting, with the tinking and the frogging and the forward progress.

The weight loss (happily) continues apace, and I’ve finally been able to wear something other than that now-way-too-big pair of army green cropped pants I bought from Old Navy for 99 cents. I wore them almost every day for three months… I think I got my money’s worth, thank you.

Of course, the sleeping lately has been ridiculous. I can sleep on the sofa without even trying, a skill that normally eludes me. And the walking, I’m walking. Finally. Not yet doing the early-morning walking that I really should be doing, I don’t yet feel well enough to have that much go power that early. But walking. I’m walking. I was able to walk a couple miles today without too much trouble. And that’s good.

Smelling? What a revelation. Did you know that rain smells muddy? I didn’t, not before yesterday. I don’t even remember the last time I had a sense of smell; it eluded me for a decade. Maybe two. Muddy and clean and loamy and sweet. That’s the smell of rain at the apartment.

The flower at the top? That’s from my grandfather’s rose bush. He’s been gone almost two years now, and yet, this bush, it persists. Thrives. It’s the order of things, after all. Hope, in a jar.

it’s the little things

Improvement.

Small word.

Subtle difference.

I feel better. The pain is mostly gone. A stitch, for the most part. Soreness. The swelling has gone down considerably.

I wish I was fine, you know? But I am so much better.

Just still weak, still tired, still easily winded.

But thirty days later? I know it all was worth it.

One year three months two weeks and five days.

And the end? Is somewhere in sight. I can feel it. Not today, but soon.