Barking Mad Socks

As part of my current knitting craze, I decided I would learn to knit some socks and have been browsing Ravelry, queueing up likely contenders.  I've been adding all sorts of patterns to my queue; there are over 350 on there now. I wondered if I was being excessive, but by the looks of others' profiles, it seems quite usual to have a few hundred patterns queued, and I've just seen someone with a couple of thousand patterns in their queue! So, quite normal, not mad at all.

There was also a sale on some Drops sock yarns in February, so I have ordered some to play with. When I went to buy the needles to let me get on with the Vite cowl, I saw a Woolcraft sock yarn in shades of milk and dark chocolate brown, which made me think of wet tree bark (and chocolate). I bought a ball to be going on with.  I had been reading a few sock patterns and could not get my head around the instructions for the heel and gusset, so I thought perhaps I should just have a go and see how it works.

As I was reading through patterns, I was a bit concerned by the sizing.  Okay, you can make the foot longer by knitting more rows, simple, but what if you have wide ankles and feet?  You could go up a needle size, or even a yarn size, but how can you then calculate if you'll have enough yarn? (It must be possible, I just have to add that to the list of things I need to learn!)

I came across some nice, wide-looking socks with a lace texture pattern which could have been fern (knitted in green, as they were) or bark. Ah, slight glitch; the pattern is only available in Finnish, a language renowned for its difficulty, and not one I've ever tackled.

Well, (I thought) it's not so much of a problem now that we have Google Translate, is it?  It's always easier to translate into your own language. So I'll translate it.

Sometimes I wonder about myself. Seriously. I've never made a pair of socks and now I think it's a good idea to try a pair with a lace pattern in Finnish? Completely, certifiably, barking mad!

Google Translate isn't a bad tool, but it doesn't always result in a reliable, ready-to-use translation.  So far, I've caught it translating cm as inches in one place, and there's a bit of a difference between 6 cm and 6 inches! It evidently recognised a knitting context, managing correctly to translate the abbreviations for stitches and rows, but translating the unabbreviated word for rows as 'layers' instead and not managing to translate purl. There are syntax errors. I see Google Translate also now offers a sort of thesaurus of synonyms and alternative translations, and the opportunity for the user to select one to improve the translation, but I can't find a way to type in what it should be if it gets it completely wrong. There are a couple of sections in the pattern where the translation is evidently not at all correct, and doesn't even give me a clue. Given where they come in the pattern, it probably relates to the short rows for turning the heel and the gusset. I reckon I should be able to find my way through it by using some other patterns and YouTube for comparison.

Now I've started, I have to finish, just to prove to myself that I can. I'll post a picture of the finished Finnish socks and the pattern translation when I've worked it all out!

Finished Objects!

I was quite productive over my quiet Christmas and managed the last 20% of some projects in January and February.  At last, I have some Finished Objects (FOs), which feels like quite an achievement!

The Evenstar fingerless mittens are finished and ready to go as a birthday gift-come-pay it forward. My remaining pay-it-forward is a little kai no kuchi box.  I love these and should make myself one, so I have more planned.

The Autumn Leaves 'thing' is now a scarf. Since then, I've finished the ruffle scarf too. Is it possible to have too many scarves? I might have to gift or sell this one.  The ruffleyness is better since I washed it to remove the 'factory' smell of the yarn.

I've washed some artificial silk (polyester-viscose) saris, to see how colourfast they are and how well they wash, in preparation for using them in various projects.

Several other washloads have also been done, but I still didn't manage to empty the basket, however temporarily. I've even made a start on the spring cleaning!

I finally decided how I wanted to do my 'Longshore' random wave crochet blanket, the idea for which has been lurking for a while.  I learnt how to do the different lengths/heights of crochet stitches and tested them out by making a bookmark.

My other 'finished objects' are my tax return, a corporate tax return, accounts, paid bills, a heap of paperwork sorted and filed/recycled/shredded, computer files archived and backed up, and updated risk assessments for my classes.

The 'Sequins on my Balcony' show in Cardigan was a success and I managed to finish the technical spec and cue sheets, and remember all my costume, make-up, etc for the performance. I sorted, washed, dried and priced up belly dance clothing and accessories which I'm selling on behalf of a friend and got one of the printers working so that I could print out labels and class flyers.

I sorted out my issues with the Vite Cowl and that is now finished.  I've also managed, at last, to make a start on fingerless mittens for myself and they are knitting up so fast, they'll soon be finished too!

I should stop boasting, because the To Do list is still as long as my arm.  It's not much really, compared to what some other people manage, but at the moment I feel like Superwoman, and that's a rare event.

Sequins on my Balcony

It's been a month(!) since the Sequins on my Balcony show in Cardigan and I'm still in a bit of a post-show anti-climax.  It doesn't help that my OA has flared up but despite that, I had such a great weekend.

Several months ago, my lovely friend and dance teacher colleague Rose decided to invite Yvette Cowles down to Cardigan as the February Visiting Teacher, and for her to perform her one-woman show 'Sequins on my Balcony' at Theatr Mwldan.

The idea was to share the profits between local cancer charities and Rose's 'Fit for Life' dance teaching, which will allow her to offer some concessions for classes or workshops. It was a little daunting to think we would need to fill the 250 seat Mwldan 2, especially for a Friday night show. Ticket sales went extremely slowly at first, which is normal but always worrying.  In the end, thanks to some heavy marketing to the non-belly dance community locally, the show was nearly a sell-out and £900 was raised, a third of which from a charity raffle.  There were some beautiful, generous people there that night!

The first half of the show was a brief sample of various styles of belly dance, like a potted history, with Yvette's one-woman show in the second half.

I'd been so wrapped up in paperwork and accounts in January that the technicians' notes and cue sheets for the first half of the show were done at the beginning of February, a week before the show.  Luckily, the dancers' requirements for lighting weren't too difficult and I could piggy-back our requirements on the lighting effects specified for Yvette's show in the second half. Normally, getting dancers' details is like trying to herd cats, but this time it was quite easy.  I think this was partly due to the calibre of dancers we had invited, and partly due to not asking too early - by the time I wanted the information, everyone knew what they were dancing to, what they were planning to wear and if they had any specific requirements for lighting or stage direction.

No sooner had I completed the technicians' notes than our first dancer pulled out, having hurt her back and been told to rest from dancing for at least a month. It was too late to change the programmes, but I changed the tech notes and Rose handled the gap by adding extra commentary on the potential goddess-worship origins of the dance at the start of the show.

On the day, we had a 'working lunch' at the theatre cafe and started in with the tech runs.  Yvette had tweaked her show script and wanted a prompter as well as a stage hand to move a clothing rail at one point, so I reviewed the critical points in the show script as the technicians did some rigging. Time went on and the tech rehearsal began to run later and later. Dancers arrived and the juggling started.  At the half, I still hadn't got up to the dressing room to do my own make up and costume and was beginning to fret and snap. We finished a very abbreviated tech run for the first half just before letting the audience in and I staggered upstairs to slap on costume and make up.

Dancing Baladi in my Assuit costume

The first half lighting could have been better, as it seemed a bit dark.  A couple of us felt that we had to dance in the spotlight to be seen. But, as the saying goes, it was all right on the night. The dancers were all fabulous and included Stephanie Gawne, with an elegant and graceful raqs al saif (sword dance) in an lovely Ottoman period inspired costume, Alanya's sassy and cheerful Saidi raqs assaya (stick dance), expressive and exuberant modern cabaret and drum solo from Zara and Lyza Chthonia's deep, beautiful and melodic tribal fusion. The first half closer was an uplifting, easy piece choreographed by Rose, illustrating the inclusivity of belly dance. I had run through Rose's 'Yay' choreography  with my groups for the first few weeks of term, so anyone coming to the show had the option of leaping up onto the stage to dance. I was so pleased that some of 'my' dancers came up to join in with Rose's, filling the stage. The following week, there was an Article in the Tivyside about the show,  with a lovely picture of the stage full of dancers. (Me and mine are squashed in at the back!)

Yvette was wonderful, touching, funny and graceful.  Her show weaves anecdotes about belly dance, cancer treatment and relationships with snatches of dance and physical comedy into a seamless and absorbing story which touched some members of the audience deeply.  I like to listen in to comments from the audience as they leave, but in this case they were coming up to tell us how much they had enjoyed the show.  When I popped into the yarn shop in the market the following week, I was told that there were women talking about how great it was, in the shop on the Saturday morning!

A few days before the show, I woke up in pain, feeling as though I had somehow twisted my right knee during the night - my osteoarthritis flaring up. It's never a good time for that to happen, but just before a show and workshop weekend is the pits.  Saturday was taken up with workshops on adding drama, character and expression to the dance, and exploring the female archetypes in Egyptian dance. I had worked on these topics before, but Yvette brought such clarity and simplicity that I felt as though I needed to dance before I exploded with all the fresh knowledge. I danced a little and sat out a lot. My inner wise woman enjoyed dancing to the violin taqsim and it struck me that raqs assaya with a couple of my walking sticks could look pretty bossy, if not downright dangerous.

There was a party in the evening, where Zara and her Mum managed a fashion show of belly dance costumes.  They had even brought a dress in my size for me to model! I didn't buy it; it was black with silver decorations. As I looked down at myself, I felt all wrong, as if I were going to dance at a funeral!  The colour was not me -  I prefer gold highlights, especially if I'm wearing black, which I don't think suits my skin tone very well.  My black and silver Assuit costume is my exception which makes the rule. My friend Sue also modelled a beautiful dress, again in black and silver.  It had cut-away shoulders and lovely sleeves, with a diamond-shaped mesh-covered tummy.  If that had been in my size and perhaps in royal blue, teal, copper or golden-bronze with gold sequins and beads, I would simply have had to buy it.  Considering that, as usual, I don't have any money, it's just as well it wasn't! I sat out for most of the party, but managed a quick American Tribal Style jam with Wendy Steele, an ATS dancer and author who has moved to Lampeter, and my friend Lyza (who teaches Black Sheep Belly Dance improvised tribal style, amongst other things!).  Doing ATS in a sparkly galabeya feels extremely strange!

Since then, Rose and I have met to start plotting future events. I'm trying to rest my knee as much as possible, partly so that I can dance and at least fulfil my teaching and workshop obligations, and partly because the flare is worsening, despite the rest, massage and gentle range of motion exercises, so now even the top dose of my painkillers is only effective when I can find a comfortable position with my leg up. It's extremely frustrating, as I've only had a period of several weeks since my left knee flare cleared up and my knees were merely achy. So if you see someone pause in her gentle perambulation through the supermarket car park to let out a mighty zaghareet and whirl her walking stick like a tahtib assaya at an impatient motorist, it's probably me letting out my feisty old lady boss woman.

Not So Fast, After All

I thought the Vite Cowl would be an ideal quick project for my impulse-bought Supa-Dupa extra chunky yarn, and to learn a few new techniques, starting with a provisional cast on. Cue a quick look at YouTube for instructions. (Thank goodness for YouTube and the crafters who take some time to record a technique and post it up for others to learn from, bless you all!)

The provisional cast on was easy to do, but was a bit confusing and difficult to get even, when using a lightweight waste yarn, on such large needles with such a bulky yarn, in a pattern which started straight in with yarn over increases and the like. It was also the first time I’ve used such big needles, so I struggled with tension for a few rows, then frogged it and restarted using a plain/English cast on.

20 rows in, I was not impressed. I didn’t really notice the left hand edge on the photos, but in this yarn on 15mm needles, the yarn overs (yos) resulted in big holes, so the leaves looked strange and there was a huge eyelet edge to no obvious purpose. The leaf shape also seemed a bit lost with the texture of the yarn, too. So I frogged it again.  I evidently needed to think about this.

I should have had a look at others' project notes to start with.  I had a browse through them, and my appreciation for their helpful notes and photos reminded me to add my own on Ravelry too.  Some photos showed the 'step' in the cast-on edge and first row or two, and the vaguely diagonal shape of the strip forming, as a result of the shaping, so I wasn't 'doing it wrong' at all. Some experimented with slipping a stitch at the selvedge to control rolling, but almost everyone decided that blocking was a good idea. Some of the photos showing recently-blocked work also show an edge with big eyelets like mine was, while in others it looks a lot more subtle, and nicer, so it must depend on the yarn used. I found a couple of modifications involving removing the left hand edge as a yarn saving measure, and it looked fine.  However, there was no detailed explanation or pattern rewriting in their notes, so I thought I had better experiment for myself, particularly as the yos start right on that edge, so without any selvedge stitches, what to do with the edge of the leaf?

There were a number of comments about the fiddly decreases (SSK  - slip, slip, knit and P2tog tbl - purl 2 together through the back loop). Someone commented that doing left-leaning decreases to create an apparently right-leaning leaf shape (on the right side) seemed counter-intuitive and several people said that they had changed the decreases to right-leaning K2tog - knit 2 together and P2tog - purl 2 together. Comments about doing half pattern repeats, the yarn overs being different to usual (er, how?) and getting lost because there are different stitch counts on the right/knit and wrong/purl side rows (there were?) left me feeling even more as if I had missed something and lacking in confidence.

I like to understand what I'm doing, rather than just following instructions. It was time to learn what the yo increases and various decreases were doing.

First I checked my methods - was I doing things like yarn over and SSK correctly? Yes, I was. (Amazing!)

I'm always looking for a hair band to keep my hair out of my eyes when doing my face, so a smaller scale strip of leaves would be ideal, and allow me to play with the pattern. I picked up a light green from my DK stash and a pair of 4mm dpns (more than long enough for a strip 18 stitches/2.5" wide).

I decided to leave off the 'eyelet' edge and just have two purl stitches on the RS (2 knit on the WS). The yarn is acrylic, so curls at the edge a bit, but the curl on the purl leaves quite a nice texture to the left hand edge.

I did a couple of leaves as per the pattern, just to look at the result of the SSK/P2tog tbl and what those left-leaning decreases were doing. Basically, the decreases move the edge of the leaf to the right. The SSK and corresponding P2 tog tbl create a raised, concave edge to the lower leaf.  It's subtle and pretty, but would probably be more visible and therefore work best with a smooth yarn. As the Supa Dupa has quite a texture of its own, a raised convex edge to the upper leaf would probably be more visible, so I switched the SSK/P2tog tbl to K2tog and P2tog. I reasoned that I was now outlining the leaf, so should move the decrease one stitch to the left and did a leaf that way. It was a bit weird and I liked the P2tog as a last stitch on the purl side at the end of a repeat, so I decided to stop over-thinking it at this stage, and just go with the changed decreases.
The decreases outlining the leaf shape match the increases made by the yarn overs in the leaf.  The differences in stitch count between sides of the fabric are due to two increases with only one decrease on the RS, then the other decrease on the WS. I found if I tightened my tension when doing a yarn over, the hole was a little neater.

Having stopped thinking so hard, and without having to fidget around to purl 2 through the back loops, the strip of knitting started to fly off the needles.

The picture shows a couple of leaves, the left one with the original left-leaning SSK decreases and the one with the right-leaning K2tog decreases on the right.

Having sorted that out, I was impatient to start the modified Vite cowl and decided to go with a provisional cast on after all, now that I know what the pattern is doing. I used the waste yarn doubled to create something more robust to start with and started knitting away.  I got through an entire ball (two pattern repeats) before I realised it was still too holey.  Despite the super-chunkiness, the 15mm needles are too big to give the balance of softness and shape, definition and drape that I was hoping for.  I did a little test swatch with 9mm needles - too rigid, even with a loose tension. I don't quite want my cowl to be able to stand up by itself.

So, it's been frogged AGAIN! I will have to go in search of 10mm and 12mm needles to fill the gap in my stash, to allow me to experiment to find the right gauge for this project.  Perhaps it will be fourth time lucky, but this quick project has proved to be not so vite, after all.

Evenstar Fingerless Mittens - Finished!

The Evenstar fingerless mittens I started in December were finished before New Year and have been sitting, waiting to be photographed (waiting for a bright day, ha ha!)

They were originally meant for me, because my hands get so cold. I noted when I was working on them that wrestling with dpns and a cable needle was producing a tighter tension, even though the swatch tension was correct.

While I was knitting, I could picture these on a friend of mine, and they are in fact a bit too snug on my pudgy hands and wrists, so they were evidently meant to be for her.  I owe her a pay-it-forward giftie, and her birthday is later this month, so these are a combination present and pay-it-forward. Which is lovely, except I still have cold hands and a need for fingerless mittens, and I simply cannot bear to just buy a cheap mass-produced pair. (Even if I could find some to fit my fists.)

Not only that, but having knitted this pattern, I want to do something different. I think I would also go for some which are shorter in the arm.  Even though the yarn is only acrylic and a bit splitty, the blue glintiness is so pretty. These took just under 100g; the other half of the ball has since been used to start the Longshore blanket.  I've been drooling browsing in Ravelry, madly queueing up projects which catch my eye. It's not like I don't have a pile of stashed yarn to use and since a quick raid on the charity box at a local LYS, some additional needles to try to add some missing sizes to my needle stash!

More Leafy Loveliness

One of my 'local yarn stores' is in Cardigan market, and the lovely owner receives any needles and yarn given into the Ty Hafan charity shop, to sell on their behalf. I've picked up knitting needles there before, so I went armed with my list and a needle gauge to try to fill in some holes in my collection.  Trouble is, whenever I go, I end up adding to my stash and this time was no different.

Sitting in a half-price bin next to the counter were a couple of balls of King Cole Supa-Dupa extra chunky in a delicious moss green. It's shade 223, which I see they describe as 'sage' but it's a rich, dark, yellowy-green, nowhere near grey enough for 'sage' to be a good name for it. It's an enormous yarn, like a roving plied with a thread, 75% acrylic, 25% wool. The 200g balls only contain 52 metres, so its rrp of around £8 a ball is really quite expensive. I've since seen it online for even less, but the postage would more than make up for the price difference. It looks quite silky, but just stroking it brings up fuzzies, so I wonder how it will wash. I wasn't inspired by the patterns for it, but look at the colour and see leaves. Irresistible! Then, of course, I needed to buy a pair of 15mm needles to cope with such a huge yarn.

It's only a few weeks since I picked up the last couple of balls of a marbled greens/teal/purple chunky from the Narberth British Red Cross charity shop, because a leaf-patterned cowl came to mind when I saw them. (Okay, the teal and purple don't say 'leaves' to me so much as the green mix in the yarn, but I really like it, even though I don't normally go for purple.) It was called 'Jazz Tones Chunky' (shade 005), with no producer's name on it.  The ball band has a postcode on it: BD16 2NT, which is the James C Brett wholesale address in Bingley.  Interesting. The yarn looks very similar to the James C Brett Marble Chunky shade 28 same metreage, but at half the ball size (100g instead of 200g) and half the price.

I've also been making a few roses with my DK stash and plotting a 'rose garden' scarf (or something) with stems and leaves on the main section, then the roses towards the ends. It ground to a halt because I wanted a dark green yarn and couldn't find one unless I ordered online (which would be made disproportionately expensive due to postage costs).

All of this has led to much queueing of Ravelry projects (mainly for comparison). Reading the patterns, it looks like I'll need to learn a selection of techniques which I currently don't know, including various ways of visibly and invisibly increasing and decreasing, sorting out the difference between yarn over and yarn round needle, doing provisional/crochet cast-on, three-needle cast-off, and Kitchener grafting.

I went out with my friend J yesterday, and we started in a shop where I immediately spotted a dark green to add to my multicolour DK stash.  We went to another store to look in the crafts section and I went into my 'kid in a sweet shop' mode. 'YOU', said J, as I squeed and oohed over blingy things and babbled on about my various projects, 'need to FOCUS!'

She is right, as always.  I should be concentrating on creating a stock of things to sell.  I should be making myself some fingerless mitts, but need to work some of this leafy loveliness out of my system. So my treat for tonight is to make a start on the Vite Cowl at the top of my Ravelry queue, using the mossy hyper-chunky  yarn. First, though, I have to do some chores.  Oh well, at least the washing up will warm up my hands!

The Sock Eater Strikes Again

Somewhere, in a parallel universe, along with biros, pencils and important bits of paper which you could have sworn you kept, there are herds of odd socks.

I was glancing through an article on de-cluttering recently (skim-reading as usual, so I've no idea where in the interwebs it was,) which posed the question: Do you throw away odd socks?  The article was about de-cluttering, so the expected, correct answer would have been: Yes.

As I browsed on, the question stuck in my mind.  I have quite a pile of odd socks.  They drive me mad.  I live alone in a small (admittedly untidy) cottage, so where do the other socks go?  I know they get caught in the sleeves of sweatshirts, in pillowcases and duvet covers, and occasionally knocked under the bed by one of the cats in playful mood. They stick to the drum of the washing machine and lurk there, waiting to join the next load. I've found a couple which were making a break for freedom down the back of the washing machine. I opened my dance workshops kit bag ready to go away to JWAAD Fantasia last December and found a lonely sock in the bottom of it.  I was sure I had emptied the bag, but must have dropped one sock as I hauled the rest of it off to the laundry hamper.

I was doing laundry for a friend who was in hospital a couple of months ago, and found she had an even worse problem with odd socks than I did.  While sorting through her socks, I found that some were designed as complementary pairs; a pair of white socks, but one would have a blue heel and pink toe, the other a pink heel and blue toe. I'm not sure I would be able to cope, although I do like subtle jokes. I saw a pair of navy blue socks with a picture of a red light on the left ankle and a green one on the right years ago; I should have bought them. Anyway, I'm quite happy for others to do as they please, but I like my socks in matching pairs.

I know a few people who really don't care about matching socks and just take the first two which come to hand. They could be making a fashion statement (anything I wear is cool), a lifestyle choice (because they really can not be bothered to pair up their socks), or are so busy (e.g. being laundry maid and everything else to husband and young children) that any clean socks in the drawer when they need them is a win.

Should I just throw odd ones away?  The thought of just tossing them out and adding to the landfill makes me shudder. What a waste, when, if their pair really has been taken by the sock eater,  they could be made into sock puppets, draft excluders, cat toys, toy stuffing, used as dusters or decorating rags .... I have a pile of old, threadbare socks somewhere, waiting for a second life.

I've just taken some dry socks down off the laundry airer and there were nine pairs, no odd socks. Maybe I have a second pile of odd socks somewhere, which contain the pairs to those in the first pile. Or maybe I have a sock eater living in the cottage somewhere, ready to strike again.