Socks and Natural Selection

Like many of you, I love to knit socks. Behold a recently-completed pair, modeled by my Companion in Life:

These socks are entirely typical of my repertoire, consisting of about three variations of an archetypally basic pattern, the brainchild of my friend and local Langworthy Librarian, Jane Green. It has served me well during the first three years of my sock-knitting mania (life total to date: 40 completed pairs). A pattern like this is a great teacher of sock knitting, and an excellent way to showcase variegated or printed yarn, being, as it were, a blank canvas.

Almost two years ago I started a complicated pattern, with faux cables and lacy bits. It looks great, but I cannot knit it unless I'm in isolation, so I save it for when I have hours on Amtrak ahead of me. This Sterling Lace pattern, while beautiful, has furthered my resolve to simplify, simplify, simplify, as HDT says.

A free download,  Lace Sterling is designed by Clara Masessa for Kraemer Yarns.

Frankly, though, I am getting a wee bit bored by knitting the same old same old, so have been searching for a subtle variation. I found a much-touted pattern on Ravelry that looked like just the ticket, a classic rib with nice detail over two stitches:  SKYP; but I should have known something was wacko when I saw the sizing chart offered the following options only:  Men's X-Small [Small, Medium, Large].  OMG, I wondered.  Where would my women's size 8 feetsies fit into this? Regardless of all warning signs and alarm clocks, I dove right in.

This beautiful yarn is from Dirty Water Dyeworks, a New England hand-dyeing atelier.

It took me until the heel, when I tried it on, that I realized continuance was futile. The gauge and size were enough off to be tacitly annoying for the rest of my life, and suddenly, like a big blurp of water down the drain, the entire pattern lost its allure. I felt annoyed at all the hours I'd wasted, until I thought of how to adapt the herringbone pattern formed by the designer's SKYP (slip 1 purlwise, knit 1, yarn over, pass slipped stitch over).  Then this seemed to me a useful rehearsal for the next iteration, which I will share with you before too long, I hope.

Up close and personal so you can see the SKYP.

So ultimately, the time spent seemed more like a good practice, and possibly an evolutionary stage.

Ripped and ready to roll.

Prospective delights

Friday begins the first annual Great Rhody Yarn Crawl. Sponsored by Slater Mill Knitting and Crochet Guild, it runs all weekend. (Click on the GRYC link for a map and a "passport" to download.) I plan to visit an LYS or two to check out the merriment. Word has it that an interesting mystery guest will appear at Eneri Knits in Exeter on Friday between 5 and 7 p.m., and I'm rather curious to see whom that might be. Perhaps I will meet you there, gentle reader, as well.

Last Wednesday, at the weekly meeting of the Langworthy Library Knitting Association, our beloved founder, Jane Green, brought in her handwork for show-and-tell.

She knit this for a specific reason--namely, that she and some friends will gather, on the 29th of this month, to view the broadcast of Prince William and Kate Middleton's wedding in Westminster Abbey, and as it is a lengthy production, they will require some fortification. Tea and cakes are the preferred refreshment of this discerning fan club, as we are six hours earlier than London, where no doubt folks will be quaffing more potent celebratory beverages:

I gave her Cakes and I gave her Ale,
I gave her sack and sherry.
I kist her once and I kist her twice;
And we were wondrous merry.

Please admire the beautiful delicate roses knitted from variegated sock yarn.

To this list of two prospective delights, I shall immodestly add another: my article, "Stitch and Seed:  Summer's Bounties," in the summer 2011 issue of Knitscene Magazine, on sale starting just about this week at many LYS, including Eneri Knits.

Simple Gifts

Give someone a pair of socks, and you warm her feet for a day.  Teach someone to knit socks, and you warm her feet for a lifetime.                                                                                         
The Langworthy Library Knitting Association began nearly two years ago when Denise wandered into the library and knowing Jane-the-librarian was a knitter, asked for lessons in socks.  The upshot was the birth of the Knitting Association, and a pattern, Denise's sock, that Jane has graciously agreed to share.

Denise's Sock is a good, basic sock that will warm the tootsies in a variety of yarns: plain, variegated, self-patterning.  You can add your own touches--I usually do a 2x2 rib at the top for at least an inch. I learned to make socks from this pattern, too, and I hope you will use it and wear it in good health. Thank you and brava to Jane! The ramifications of her gift are far-reaching, delightful, and warm. In her gesture is a lesson for us all.

Jane Green
knitting a sock

Alfie eyes one of "Denise's socks" suspiciously.

Mice in the library

Jane Green, librarian and sock knitter par excellence (check out her Spirit Sisters website), brought these little guys to the library last week:

They are a wonderful Ysolda Teague pattern, "Mousie,"available through Ysolda's website or Ravelry.

And above are two of Jane's latest sock creations--an olive green tweed hiking sock, and elegant blue cabled socks with Jane's signature "fizz" at top.  The mice are about to leave for Louisville, KY, where Jane's heading for a week's visit with her daughter and grand-cat.  (Guess who's getting the mice?)

Why Socks?  An Existential Disquisition, Part 1

Recently I've come across more than a few manifestos, online and in knitting magazines, arguing in favor of knitted socks. The Langworthy Library Knitting Association, perhaps as a reflection of Jane's proclivities, cleaves to socks more than to anything else.  Denise tells me, "They're instant gratification." She favors them over more time-consuming projects, as do many other proponents, both in-library and outside.

I'm in the early stages of my sock-knitting career, and consider myself a convert to the beauty and general superiority of hand-knitted socks. They are warmer, lighter, and softer than any machine-made sock I've ever worn, including machine-made cashmere and angora. Plus, they're mine--original, unique, and custom-fitted!

Below a small gallery of hand-knitted socks made by the Langworthians:

Judy's socks

Denise's socks

Anne's socks

Socks I made for HC's birthday in November!

Here's a question:  Why do you or don't you knit socks?  (Responses will appear in a future post.)

BKIND

Coming to the Langworthy Library Knitting Association meeting yesterday, I passed a car in the parking lot whose license plate read "BKIND." These wise words carried over to the meeting, where Jane, knitter par excellence and founder of the group, was busy instructing eight-year-old Amity, and her mom, in knitting. By now our collection of donated needles and yarn is large enough that we can provide materials for anyone who might stop by and want to learn to knit.

Jane is an excellent teacher--soft-voiced, clear, and patient.  She gave Amity a quilted knitting tote, and after she and her mom left, those of us remaining speculated as to whether they'd return. School starts next week, and things will get busy. But we are hoping...

Jane's passion is knitting socks, and she's designed a good basic pattern which I hope to post fairly soon. It led me to the completion of my first pair...and inspired by that project, I'm now knitting my third. When I brought my first pair to a recent meeting, I was given a Blue Plastic Yarn Needle to betoken my initiation. This is a tradition Jane established.

And here's a photo of Jane modeling a recently-completed pair of socks, knit in a beautiful German organic wool, Zitron.

For more examples of Jane's spectacular work, check out her website, Spirit-Sisters.

(I've been wondering if any of my readers are involved with library knitting groups in Rhode Island and elsewhere in New England. I'd be interested in hearing and writing about them.)

Well...time to pick beans in the garden. Before ending, however, I'll remind you that The Poetry of Knitting Contest closes on August 31st, in only five days. Submissions so far have been delightful!