Jock the Sock and Steve the Sleeve

I have been having a super busy month performing in and reviewing shows at the Edinburgh fringe. In whatever little pockets of time I can find, I whip Jock the Sock out of my bag.

I'm just starting the gusset decreases on the second sock, and I am very much looking forward to having toasty toes this winter!

In slightly more capacious pockets of time, I have been working on Steve the Sleeve:

Steve is all that stands between me and completion of my Kingscot cardigan, which has been meekly hibernating for months.

It has been a long time since I completed a cardigan or jumper - I seem to have been knitting industrial quantities of lace of late - and I have rather missed the feeling of creating a new garment (as opposed to accessory). I have got my eye on several sweater patterns, including the aforementioned Buttercup (ravlink), and several of Kate Davies designs (Manu, and the hopefully forthcoming Tortoise and Hare).

Sock Art

I've finished a sock! It made me rather grateful for having small feet - it seemed to whizz past after I turned the heel, though it remains to be seen whether I'll fall prey to the dreaded SSS. This is a sock-ish sister to a series of paintings by Martin Creed which I went to see today in a most excellent exhibition at the Fruitmarket Gallery, which slowly grade between colours. 

Green Things

Clockwise from the left: a simple stocking stitch sock; a glistening lime dome from the best chocolatier in the world; a mossy, messy pile that very soon will be a finished shawl.

Farewell, Fairy Vomit

I did a bit of knitting housekeeping today, and stumbled across these (remember them?). My dislike of their candy-necklace shades was even more violent than I had remembered. The manic colour changes  also all but obscured the Jaywalker pattern I had been using. So, in a few minutes I had turned them from this...

... to this...

... to this (thank you, ball-winder).

I'm not sure I can bring myself actually to throw this yarn away - it is a sturdy German wool/nylon blend that I suspect would last me till the end of time. The question is, do I really want an eternal fairy vomit foot covering?

Buzzzzzzzzzzz.....

Regular readers may wonder at the fate of my Hungry Bees. Had they swarmed? Suffered the mysterious Colony Collapse Disorder? Left to seek fame and fortune in the Versatile Bee category of the Ambridge flower and produce show on the Archers?

Thankfully, the answer to all those questions is no: they are safe and sound in Cambridge, keeping me toasty warm as I write. As I have probably mentioned before, this is an excellent pattern. My feelings about the Old Maiden Aunt merino/bamboo in which the socks are knit have been well-documented: I have now sported this yarn around my neck, on my feet and, all too briefly, around my torso, and it has always been a delight to work with and to wear.

What took me so blinking long to finish them, then? Why did they hover mournfully so close to completion for such an age? Well, it was mainly because it took me a while to make this decision.

The cuff as originally written featured an adorable combination of a honeycomb and honeybee stitch pattern. This looked as sweet as a gumdrop, but for some reason, in my hands, was about as stretchy as a stick of rock. In my original post on these socks, I had attempted to keep things apian with some double moss stitch, vaguely reminiscent of a honeycomb. This was better: now I could just about get them over my heel, but still with a good deal of wiggling.

Finally I snapped. I loved these socks, and I wanted to wear them a lot, without having to ease them cautiously on, or worry about tearing the cuff. So I ripped back both socks to before I started the honeybee lace, and did a simple 2x2 rib and picot cast off. I was sad to bid goodbye to two endearing features of this design, but ultimately am very happy with the finished socks. They are the perfect golden honey colour.

Oh, I mirrored the pattern on the foot, though I'm afraid I don't remember how I did it, as it was rather a long time ago.

Evolution Mitts

Since making that pledge to knit six sweaters from stash all I have been able to think about has been making little things. 

Like these.

They are the Evolution Mitts by Mimi Fenton, so-called because the lace pattern evolves as you progress down the glove, which made for an entertaining knit.  The yarn is Dream in Color Smooshy in the Gothic Rose colourway.

I like the contrast between the pretty leaf lace on the top side of the glove and the minimalist 2x2 rib on the bottom.

I have also finally finished my Hungry Bees socks (hooray!), but I think those poor neglected honey-makers deserve their own post so I'll just give you this sneaky peek for now.

The Bee's Knees

This is just a quick post about some rather rad socks I've been working on.

They are (or rather, it is, for the sock is still singular) the most excellent Hungry Bees Socks, in some similarly excellent Old Maiden Aunt Merino/Bamboo in the colourway 'Whisky Galore!'. My Fairy Vomit Jaywalkers are still malingering on in the background, but I was really craving some grown-up yarn and this soft and subtle stuff satisfies this need perfectly. I love the pattern a lot - the different sections are amusingly titled and beautifully laid out - and I especially enjoyed the random placement of bees on the lower part of the leg: 'I feel a bee here!' 

The original honeycomb cuff was adorable, but not elastic enough to fit over my heel, so I substituted a slightly frivolous combination of double moss stitch and a picot frill.

These socks truly are the bee's knees - I can't wait to have a pair!

Before I scoot off to pack, here is a sneak peek of something else I have on the needles.

 

Here comes the summer

The dismembered limbs of Hey, Teach! are drying, waiting to be pieced together. This is my first time setting in sleeves, and I'm a little nervous. The thought of having a nifty, hand-knitted item in which to shimmy about in the sunshine is enough to make up for a little sleeve-cap finagling. 

I have also been working on these...
I sort of despise the sugared almond colours of the yarn... I bought it when I was a new knitter and easily beguiled by variegation, and I am very happy to be expelling it from my stash. Whether or not I'll ever want to coat my feet with fairy vomit is another matter. Socks are so supremely portable; I think I'm going to try always to have one in my bag for snatched moments of knitting time.