Planning and planning… and planning some more

I have started and drafted dozens of posts over the past few years, trying to think through a strategy to “catch up” with all the knitting projects I’ve been working on and dreaming about… and not gotten around to sharing on here yet. My knitting & crafts Instagram is a much more reliable place for regular posting, but there are details and extended thoughts you just can’t fit in a caption. I really miss the days of RSS feeds and Google Reader so I could see what the people I wanted to follow posted, chronologically and however sporadically, and everyone wasn’t so worried about feeding an algorithm, but alas, the world continues changing with or without me.

So without prelude or any real attempt to catch up (for now) let’s talk about the obsession that occupies a substantial amount of my knitting daydreaming lately: Stretching Leftovers.

Specifically, I have fallen head-over-heels in love with stranded colorwork (I’ll share all these projects here soon). And yes, I know a person could just buy new yarn for each new project, but it is SO much more satisfying to make a pair of socks or mittens entirely out of the leftover yarn from a previous project. They are essentially, as a friend pointed out in a KAL group, free projects, so they also really stretch one’s budget and imagination.

One of the first such projects that sparked this obsession were my Dither Socks (Ravelry*), knit from November–December 2021.

* Unless otherwise stated, all links from here forward go to Ravelry pattern and project pages, which you may not be able to view unless you are logged in.

A pair of gradient-style socks made from leftover yarns
Dither Socks, pattern by General Hogbuffer, knit in Fuchsia, Semolina, and Tranquil (teal) colors of Knit Picks Palette, shown on sock blockers

I love this pattern and the way it makes a gradient from three colors of yarn using the early printer-inspired dithering technique of grayscale patterns to alter shades. It’s clever, and it’s ideally suited to using leftovers, as it’s 1/3 of the typical amount of yarn used per sock. And I am especially pleased that I was able to knit them from leftover yarns from my Fireweeds Socks and Chrysanthemums Mittens, two particularly beloved projects.

Diagram of using yarn leftovers from other projects to make socks
Diagram of how Dither Socks incorporated leftovers from my Fireweeds Socks & Chrysanthemums Mittens

Of course I can’t just stay content with a nice little bonus project and call it a day. No, I have now started pre-meditating a series of projects based on incorporating leftovers, and it’s becoming, well, an obsession.

A pair of colorwork mittens in progress, on needles
Pattern: Angkas Mittens by Therese Lundberg
Yarns: Knit Picks Stroll in Sapphire Heather (darker blue) and Wonderland Heather (lighter blue)

I started this pair of Angkas Mittens in late 2022, and I put them aside when the hand came out too short (I’ve since resolved how to adjust the pattern for my longer fingers, and I really hope to have them done this winter).

I want to use the leftover light blue yarn to form the sky portion of forest-inspired colorwork socks (Metsän Siimeksessä from KnitsByAnni), which will use one of two greens for the larger part of the foot. And then I want to take the rest of that green, plus a contrast color, for one pair of celestial-inspired mittens (Temple of the Forest by Elena Maltseva) and some leftover yellow and the rest of the darker blue for a different pair (Sonne, Mond und Sterne by Simone Urban). Something like this:

Yarn sourcing for three new projects from the leftovers of several others.
Photo of Metsän Siimeksessä © KnitsByAnni
Photo of Sonne, Mond und Sterne © Simone Urban
Photo of Temple of the Forest Mittens © Elena Maltseva

Somehow this level of over-thinking and fastidious planning is calming, soothing, and fun for me, and I love dreaming up new ways to use up every last inch of the yarns I already have. Every time I look at projects made with leftovers, I see the history of other projects that contributed, linking my whole body of knitting into a kind of experiential / memory palette. As with every creative thing I do, I change my mind dozens of times while shuffling and reshuffling these plans, and this is one of the only places in my life where I find my chronic indecision to be fun and not agonizing. Surely I’m not the only one?

But I am not just daydreaming about knitting, rather I am working on new things all the time. I hope to have a big ol’ pile of actual knitting to share soon!

WIP Round-Up, Greens Edition

As a painter, I love color – all colors – and I am endlessly fascinated by variations in hue, tone, how colors work in combination, and so on. I have my all-time favorites (green, fuchsia-ish magenta, teal) and general preferences in terms of clarity and saturation of colors, but occasionally I think color works a bit like having a song stuck in your head: when your attention is attenuated on a particular color, you seem to see it everywhere, and when your mind wanders, say, while shopping for yarn, you just keep coming back to similar shades.

Stack of knitting projects in progress (WIPs) in various shades of green

When I glanced at my knitting basket the other day, I couldn’t help noticing the color story I’d been inadvertently repeating. And it’s not just in knitting: the median shade of these projects keeps showing up in my art, in the clothes I wear, in my graphic design – it’s truly stuck in my head.

Also, this isn’t even all of my current green WIPs (nor all of my WIPs by a country mile), so I will continue with another roundup soon.

Alluvial Deposits Socks

Pair of green socks in progress, on double-pointed needles, next to a ball of yarn, on a marble tabletop

While I generally try to vary (or at least alternate) my sock-knitting colors, I couldn’t resist back-to-back greens for my May-June and June-July projects. This yarn is so special, a one-of-a-kind hand-painted, non-repeatable “Wild Iris” colorway from Miss Babs that almost felt too precious to use. Rich Ensor (Ravelry link)’s elegant, sharply clever pattern Alluvial Deposits makes the most of a really special skein of yarn, and when I began to imagine what this yarn would do in this pattern, it felt positively meant to be.

Vauhtia ja vaarallisia tilanteita – Action! Socks

Bluish-green cabled toe-up socks in progress, next to a ball of yarn, on a faux fur off-white blanket background

This color, Knit Picks Stroll in Patina, just spoke to me from the moment I saw it. It is that just-right blue-green seafoamy-but-not-too-pastel shade that I would probably classify as my actual favorite color if I could pin down a simple name for it. These socks were for a Sock Knitters Anonymous challenge working a pattern that started with the same first letter as one’s Ravelry username. I didn’t expect much for a name starting with “V” so you can perhaps imagine my delight when I found this lovely Finnish pattern (the name translates to “Full speed ahead”).

A Baby Sweater and Hat Set

The yoke of a green and off-white colorwork baby sweater in progress, with two balls of yarn on a sage green background

When I wanted to make a gift for my cousin’s soon-to-arrive baby girl, I naturally went to my favorite color again, this time paired with a nice off-white. I’m not sure why I’m a bit superstitious about over-committing to pink or blue for babies, or if this is my incredibly subtle way of subverting the gender binary, but I think babies (and all people, really) tend to look incredible in shades of green. It’s slightly unexpected, but it stands out and encourages individuality and personal expression. We’ll talk a lot more about this project soon.

Sonrae Sweater

Colorwork neckline and yoke of a Sonrae sweater in progress

Earlier this spring I became truly obsessed with colorwork, and I worked up the nerve to finally cast on for the Sonrae Sweater by Jenn Steingass of knit.love.wool. I had such a great time working my first colorwork yoke, featuring glorious shades of spruce and a sagey-seafoam green.

Colorwork yoke of a Sonrae sweater in shades of green, laid out flat in a circle on needles

As you can see in the top photo of this post, I’ve since split the body and arms of the sweater and have moved into swathes of stockinette.

Since I started the draft of this post back in June (eeep), most of these projects are now complete (and gifts given!). I expect to have FO posts with many more details to share soon. And maybe, just maybe, something that isn’t green.

FO: Mermaid Pomatomus Socks

When I was a new knitter way back in 2006, I started keeping an aspirational list of “Someday Projects.” These were the ones that seemed too complicated, too technically daunting, or just too intimidating to even consider before a lot more projects and years of learning. Even though I’ve knit many, many pairs of socks, I still kept these socks in the aspiration-only section of my queue until one day I got my hands on the absolute perfect yarn for them and realized I was totally ready.

Handknit socks from the Pomatomus pattern by Cookie A, in variegated blue yarn, modeled on feet

Pattern: Pomatomus by Cookie A, available for free from Knitty winter 2005 (Ravelry Project page)
Size: Women’s size 9.5 (US)
Yarn: SweetGeorgia Yarns Tough Love Sock, fingering weight, 80% Merino wool / 20% nylon in Mermaid; I used every last inch of the 115g skein (425.4 yards / 389 meters) plus a few yard of Knit Picks Stroll in Mermaid
Needles: Size 1 (2.25 mm) DPNs
Modifications: Widened and lengthened for fit, as described below

Started: September 5, 2019
Finished: September 21, 2019

So the truth is, I had actually started this pattern once before, back in 2008, when I was still a bit iffy on socks overall, and I felt overwhelmed trying to carry yarn-overs across DPNs or manage a lace pattern that moved. That attempt was quickly set aside, and after working similarly complicated, shifting lace patterns, I was determined to make it work this time. I made it a little harder and more yarn-consuming on myself than I needed to by going down a needle size and working the pattern over 84 stitches for the leg, instead of the 72 stitches the pattern calls for. I preferred the way the yarn looked at this gauge, and I liked the smaller scale of eyelets and the way the lace stretched.

Handknit sock in progress, showing the Pomatomus pattern's cuff and first few lace repeats on DPNs

I had won this gorgeous yarn as a Sock Knitters Anonymous (Ravelry link) prize, and I was so thrilled by the way the colors danced and shimmered in the lace pattern. I also really enjoyed the harmony of a sea-inspired pattern (Pomatomus being the genus for bluefish) with a yarn named Mermaid. It all just came together exactly the way I hoped it would.

Handknit Pomatomus socks, modeled on parallel feet facing forward

To get the fit I wanted around a wider calf, I started with 84 stitches on the ribbing and continued at this width for most of the leg. I also added a chart repeat to lengthen the leg, which I usually do for top-down socks so they hit at a comfortable point and don’t slouch or fall down. I reduced to 72 stitches as I approached the heel by omitting yarn-overs over one lace section for half a repeat, and the transition went so smoothly I can’t even remember or see in these photos exactly how I did it. It was important to me that I preserve the way the pattern flowed into the heels and stay continuous from the leg into the foot, so I worked these decreases in the repeats at the sides above the ankles, where they could kind of melt into the gussets.

Handknit Pomatomus socks modeled on feet, standing slightly on tip-toe and viewed from behind to show heel detail

I loved the impact of the twisted stitches on the heels flowing out of the lace and the fit of the ribbed heel flap.

Handknit Pomatomus socks modeled on feet, viewed from above

The rest of the gusset and foot was worked according to the pattern, and I especially appreciated the way the designer transitioned the lace through the instep chart so it flowed from the leg perfectly.

Detail view of handknit Pomatomus socks, showing toes with coordinating yarn striped in

As I approached the toe on the second sock, I realized I was short on yarn due to the modifications I’d made to stitch count, gauge, and the way the allover ribbing design ate up so much yardage. I was initially planning on just knitting a contrast toe with a solid-colored coordinating yarn from my stash (also named Mermaid, as it happens) but when I saw the two yarns next to each other, I felt they were so, so close in tone and value that I could get away with striping them together to kind of blend the two. I think the contrast between the ribbed lace and plain stockinette also helped me get away with a tidy visual transition.

Detail of handknit Pomatomus sock on sock blocker, showing toe

I frogged back both toes to this point and blended in the contrast yarn. I’m really pleased with how well that strategy worked out, and I feel in some small way this maybe justifies my habit of buying so many similarly-colored yarns to have this kind of option?

Detail view of handknit Pomatomus socks on sock blockers, showing lace pattern in SweetGeorgia Mermaid yarn

This lace pattern worked so beautifully with this yarn that I literally can’t stop looking at these socks when I wear them (or take them out just to admire them). My father was so impressed with the cleverness of the lace and its resemblance to fish scales and waves that he asked for a pair of his own for Christmas (“yeah, even with the holes, that’s fine!”). I’m not only thrilled with the way these socks came out, but also super happy I have learned enough about knitting along the way to get the exact fabric quality and size/fit I wanted, as well as the know-how to overcome running out of yarn without compromising the overall effect.

Handknit Pomatomus socks, side-by-side on sock blockers

The thing I love so much about knitting is that for the most part, it’s just different combinations of two stitches, knitting and purling, plus yarn-overs. Yes, it gets fiddly and can be tricky with decreases, lace, shaping, construction, sizing, and so on, but in the end, it’s fundamentally always built of things I already know how to do. I love projects like these socks, which are confidence-building, useful learning experiences, beautiful to look at, and great inspiration to tackle the patterns I’ve been keeping on my Someday list.

Handknit Pomatomus socks, modeled on feet, with one stepping in front of the other

Because if I keep at it, put one foot in front of the other, continue challenging myself and just doing it, Someday has to come one day, right?

Hello from your recalcitrant knit-blogging friend

I haven’t been posting here as much as I intended, relying instead on Ravelry project notes or longer Instagram captions to keep track of basic details… and it’s mostly fine, but it doesn’t really allow for any kind of in-depth discussion, planning, sharing inspiration, exploration of thoughts that aren’t directly related to a project photo, and generally the kinds of things that sparked my interest in knit-blogging in the first place. Periodically, I make plans to catch up with all the projects I haven’t written about (there really are quite a lot) and all my resolve evaporates when all that life stuff gets in the way.

Loose pile of multicolored sock yarn that has been frogged.

So I keep wondering about the best approach. I recently made a tally of all the knitting projects I have completed, but not photographed or fully shared here or elsewhere and discovered I have a backlog of at least:

  • 10 hat/glove/mitt type accessories
  • 1 yoga mat bag
  • 8 scarves/wraps/cowls
  • 11 sweaters/shrugs
  • 29 pairs of socks

(Yes, there is a spreadsheet involved.)

The upshot, strictly in terms of knit-blogging, is that the vast majority of my WIPs have been in storage since the end of 2018, so I’ve given myself a pass to continue not discussing them until they come back out of hibernation and I resume working on them. But I have managed to amass quite a pile of new projects in the meantime, in various stages of completion, along with the ever-growing box of monthly socks. And my goodness, there are non-knitting craft projects too!

I hope you will bear with me as I work on catching myself back up, here and everywhere else. I might do a somewhat regular FO-Friday / WIP-Wednesday style of posting for a little bit, or figure out a rhythm to documenting the older projects while writing about the new ones more regularly. I know I said I was going to start doing all this a year ago, but I think we can all agree that time and reality worked very differently in 2020. So let’s see how it goes this time!

FO: Walking through a Vineyard Socks

Before I get to the socks, I want to note that I have a lot of other things I’d like to talk about, and I’m planning some wordier posts soon. I’m in a bit of a logjam with my classes, some personal things, and the all of this going on, probably much like everyone else. So let’s start with the socks, and I will chip away at the rest as I can.

I also need to add a note of caution: throughout my site, I have links to pattern and project pages on Ravelry without individual seizure warnings. I generally label Ravelry links separately from other links already, but please, please proceed with caution before following any links to Ravelry until they get their redesign issues sorted out for accessibility.

Walking through a Vineyard Socks, shown on feet outdoors to demonstrate the stitch pattern as worn.

Pattern: Walking through a Vineyard by Dots Dabbles, a pattern available for free on Ravelry (Project page)
Size: Women’s size 9.5 (US), made using size L from the pattern
Yarn: Knit Picks Stroll Tonal, fingering weight, 75% Merino wool / 25% nylon in Mountain Pass
Needles: Size 1.5 (2.5 mm) DPNs
Modifications: I added additional stitches to the ribbing and lengthened it slightly. I also added length to the toes, as described below

Started: May 29, 2020
Finished: June 26, 2020

Socks flat on blockers

As I mentioned on Instagram, when I first started knitting, the idea of so many twisted stitches and cable crossings seemed impossible to me at the fine gauge needed for socks. I figured socks like these would take a year or more, if I could ever get through them. I’m delighted to see how much I’ve grown as a knitter since then, as well as what a joy these deceptively complex little twists and crossings were.

Socks on feet, with toes pointed together

As I’ve been doing with most top-down socks lately, I started with a greater diameter of stitches and lengthened the ribbing to give a stretchier, more accommodating cuff for wide calves. I worked 24 rows of ribbing and decreased the extra stitches evenly spaced in the 23rd round.

Detail view of twisted stitch pattern and cabling

The twisted stitch pattern was rhythmic and intuitive. The symmetry and enjoyable flow of more complicated rows, then more “restful” rows kept my momentum going, and the length of the chart repeat was just right to easily track. I love the way this yarn looks in twisted stitches and cables, and I have been incredibly happy with every project I’ve worked in the Stroll Tonal line.

Round heel, with decreases centered on the sole

The round heel is an elegant detail that allows the columns of cables to continue from the leg into the foot uninterrupted. I worked a similar style of heel on a pair of toe-up colorwork socks that we haven’t talked about yet (soon!) and continue to be impressed with how comfortable the fit is on the ball of the heel. As diehard a short-row-heel lover as I’ve been, I may have found a new favorite gusset-heel style.

Detail of gusset and heel flat on sock blocker

The way the sock makes room to cup the heel ensures the cable patterning fits perfectly across the instep and snugs into the arches without distorting the pattern. It also de-emphasizes the stitches picked up along the heel flap, which is the area that still causes me the most insecurity in top-down socks, somehow, after all these years.

Toes of socks on feet, with detail of cable patterning

The pattern gives the option for a plain or a patterned toe, and I’m glad I went with more patterning. I just love the cable transitions and the way that design detail, combined with the green color, give these socks a Celtic feel. I added additional rows in the toe decreases, which resulted in a few plain rows at the very tip.

These socks were an absolute joy to knit, and I’m thrilled with the finished result. I’d give this pattern my highest possible recommendation, and if you are hesitant that they are too complicated, I assure you, the clarity of the instructions and detailed charts will carry you through.