A Redo

 I started this pair of socks on New Years Eve just before 2020. I finished them in May 2020, amidst a lot of optimism about what I'd accomplish for Stash Dash that year.  

And then they sat. I usually try to keep a backlog of finished socks here and there, sometimes I need a new pair, sometimes they are for a gift or I just haven't seen my mother in a while to have her try on whatever it is that fits around here.  She and AudioGirl continue to get first rummage through my finished objects--though it the pair is too small for all of us, then obviously Sibling the Elder gets those. 

But somewhere in there, moths made some damage, necessitating a complete rip out and redo. 

Having yarn in the quantities that I have means that the moth battles are continual. The stash lives in double layers of plastic and gets upended into piles regularly to check for damage. Finished projects get dried and into Ziplocks. I have traps up. But even with all that, occasionally I will see damage and when you consider there was a move and the first few years of this endless pandemic rolling along... I can't say I'm dreadfully surprised.  

Originally I thought these socks would just need a repair on each sock but it turned out it was more like 3 different break points on each-- spread across legs and feet and heels. And while I believe the leftovers are here somewhere (glances at a giant bag of leftovers that I 100% did not go rummaging through), I knew that trying to do that many repairs would leave a lot of extra rubbing spots and so, time for a redo. 

I ripped the socks out while watching a mandatory training -- preserve me from trainings that have a "click here to continue" every 35 seconds. But the training is done, the socks are restarted. 

The yarn is Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks that Rock Lightweight in the Harvest Star colorway. I've been working on acquiring more BMFA STR-L for socks recently through Ravelry trade/sale contacts. I have a couple of long pending orders with BMFA but it's unclear when those will come through and so I want a backlog. Fortunately, a few very nice people have been more than willing to trade yarn for dollars.  

Bigger issue of course is do I have space for any new yarn? Of course I do not. But space has never been a primary consideration when beautiful yarn is involved. 

I should also see about getting that sock project in my entryway and putting it on my desk rather than far enough away that I can't reach it and therefore don't have it when I have five minutes and another training video to watch. 

Marking the Year End and 100

 I finally wove in the ends, so officially I've finished the 100th pair of socks that I've made.  It only took 15 years.  Fortunately, I have it well documented when I started with the Tsock Tsarina Sock 101 kit in summer 2008. 

This picture is about 3 seconds before I put them on for a Christmas Eve event.  They are, keen eyed readers will observe, my favorite Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks That Rock base. It is unclear if I'll ever be able to get more of that from the dyer -- between health issues and mill issues -- BMFA STR might be a "only from people selling their stash" -- and why yes I did just have to stop myself going to see if I could acquire some. I'm fine, I have a lot. Especially at the rate I've been knitting this year.  

I also have my end of year amounts.  

This was surprisingly more than I realized I'd completed. I had some vague optimism about completing one more shawl and indeed in the past few days I've made a real dent. However, there are about 80 rows left and I have things planned to do other than knit for the next three days (seriously, what else should the week between Christmas and New Years be for??) 

My brain is finally quiet enough though that I have aspirations of all the knitting I will do in 2024. It will be multi-colored and brilliant. My yarn will FINALLY fit back in the stash boxes, and I will also find homes for the variety of things that currently don't have one.  

We shall see what actually comes to fruition but I have optimism and needles.  

Not the right needles, obviously. I need to get a few more. Also we need to talk about the yarn store I went to in Canada and and and and... 

  

Spite Yarn

Since the store is now permanently closed, I will tell you about the time I bought yarn out of spite.

When you see me, even if I'm not knitting there's probably an Emotional Support Sock in my purse. So about a decade ago when I happened to be up at my very new boyfriend's apartment for the weekend and realized I was without wool, I popped into the local yarn store to get something that would tide me over for the five or six hours until I got back to my stash. This was when I was knitting 10-15 pair of socks a year, so I was more fidgety than I am at present. 

The yarn store was small and had an okay selection but the store owner seemed deeply unwilling to sell me yarn. It became clear over a few minutes that I was not her preferred clientele (who all appeared to be richer and older than I was, then about 30). I remember getting a condescending answer when I asked if she carried metal needles. Oh, *those* were just not as good. My 20 years experience with mostly metal needles at the time was surprised to hear that. Also, wooden dpns that are 2.25 mm thick.... do you know how easily those snap when I sit on the bag accidentally? 

Spite Yarn

But I was determined and I found at least one colorway that I liked. What was I going to make, she asked? Socks.  She was SHOCKED! I COULDN'T! Great, do you have this colorway in any other base. Well, NO. Cool, I'll take the Madtosh Singles skein then. House slippers it would be.  

I'd say it was the most resentful $30 I think I've ever had a yarn store owner receive from me but I think that prize goes to the yarn store owner in La Crosse who physically got between me and the yarn on my first visit -- and kept scooting around so I couldn't get to the shelves -- that actually takes the cake.  (Caveat, the only money I ever spent in the LAX store was for a gift card that we gave away at an event.) 

The Philosopher spent years suggesting I try the store again after we moved in together and one afternoon I did. The owner was alone that day, I wasn't offending any of her knitting groups and we sort of chatted about yarn. I remember making a comment on how obviously something was Kaffe Fasset and his delight for Bonkers amounts of colors and her response of "well No One knits plain black socks."  

My response to that was to pull a pair of half finished plain black socks out of my purse. Yes they do. When your mother asks for plain black socks, that's something you make. Oh. 

I asked what she suggested for baby blankets, of which I was planning to make a few. She handed me super bulky multi-colored yarn in weirdly mixed colors that was never going to be machine washable. And with that I left. 

The store closed permanently sometime last year. I tried to think of it as a loss but it's not for me. If she'd been remotely friendly, I would have spent stupid amounts of money and heavily promoted them. I would have come in and knit and loaned them finished objects for the display window. 

And in this pass through the stash, I've decided the Spite Yarn needs to go. No, I never did knit it up into socks. I worked on it for a few inches and then went back to my own stash and one of the hundreds of other skeins I have.  

I've kept the yarn because spite and because the colorway is beautiful but I realized in this pass through the stash that I have several skeins from dyers I love in similar shades. So it's off to be in someone else's hands, someone for whom it won't immediately invoke spite. 

That's growth, right? 

I'll Just...

 The eyes of my knitting are always faster than my hands, bigger than my stomach, choose your metaphor. And yet it is a near constant that I will find myself reviewing the stash and starting a sentence with "I'll just..."

"I'll just whip up a baby blanket"

"I'll just make a full size adult sweater this week." 

"I'll just spend some time this summer making a few new shawls and six pair of socks." 

It's fascinating the ongoing disconnect between what I think I can accomplish in the limited time that is allocated to my knitting these days and the wonderful belief that these projects won't take tens to hundreds of hours each.  

The midsummer / July 4th weekend Must Review The Stash pang hit and I ended up going through the yarn bins at length over the weekend. Part of this was because it's been a year, always good to pull things out and see what you have, check for damage, reallocate bin space. And part of it was to actively get a few things into the Sell or Give Away piles.  

And I did end up winding up more yarn -- two more shawls that I've had yelling at the back of my head, yarn for a couple of pair of socks, and one more honey cowl for when I finish the one I quite literally just started. 

Here's the final work in progress / wound yarn for socks/Honey Cowls of Fall 2023 bucket. So what if I have only knit one shawl this year (oh right, you need the final details on that) and three pair of socks. I've got almost six months left, right? 

I'll just.... get started. 

Winding Amongst the Side Dishes

Friends invited a few of us over for a back patio dinner -- burgers and brats and whatever sides the spirit moved us to bring. I brought the prep for one of my usual multicolored fruit trays and two knitting projects.

First up, I needed to finish the toes on these socks. This is the 99th pair of socks I've finished, which means either the socks that are currently in a project bag or another pair soon will tip me over into that "more than 100" category. That's absolutely wild. I've only really been knitting socks for about 12 years, so that's something like 8-9 pairs on average a year. Though realistically it's been more like 3-5 in the past few years after a very strong start. 

The yarn is Sophie's Toes in a one of a kind colorway. According to my notes I picked it up in 2017 at YarnCon. That feels like a lifetime ago. She stopped dyeing a few years ago and I've lost track of her. Very nice knitter, I hope she is doing okay. 

Once the toes were cast off (and yes, I tried on one sock a couple of times while it was still on the needle to gauge length) I needed to wind up yarn for the Honey Cowl that is going to be desk knitting for the next bit. 

Fortunately, this group of friends has seen it all when it comes to my knitting. Flinging a skein around my knees and handwinding didn't even bring a blink of an eyelid. It was soothing to be in company that close, friends who are so familiar with your habits, hobbies, and oddities that something like getting this skein into a ball doesn't even register anymore. It's just part of what you expect from me. There are many friends and colleagues where I will never have that level of ease.  

The yarn for this is Fiber Sprout (the green) in her Night Zone colorway and Valley Yarns from Webs in Black. I caught the Anniversary sale this spring and bought a lot of black yarn to help with a variety of projects around the Chateau. Yes I bought more yarn so I can theoretically "use up" yarn. Yes I recognize the amusing nature of that. 

Anyway... I hope you're able to find friends with whom to sit outside, share a meal, and wind yarn at without concern for a few moments. 

Au Revoir 2022

It's the end of another year. Not my best year overall, some really amazing and good changes but also some pretty significant losses. A lot of change for nearly everyone I know and that has meant we're all flailing around trying to sort out what comes next. 

 

There's been a little knitting. More than I expected, honestly. I'd set myself a goal of 25 projects and I got through 12. Yarn as comfort object carried from room to room has felt very much the theme of the year. But I've got new socks for New Year's Eve and I'll start another shiny new pair as we ring in the new year. Same as I always do. 

I've also been thinking about Franklin Habit a lot recently and his still fairly recent move to Paris. It was fascinating to watch him pare down the books, the yarn, the everything for an international move. Only the most precious thing went along. There's a lot of things here that are very nice, but they aren't precious. And the precious is getting lost amongst the other things...

A death in the family points out to me again the shortness of life and how holding onto things you do not love, which do not serve a purpose, which are no longer needed, well mostly that just makes me tired. Is it a great surprise sometimes to find I still have thing? Sure. But usually it's just extra stuff.  I'm in my usual winter "why is there so much stuff" round, which spawned UseUpYear two years ago and continues to peck at the back of my brain. 

I hope you achieved some of your craft related goals this year and if not, that you can give yourself grace that usually yarn doesn't go stale. 

Adventures in Shelving: Part 8 of 8!

We finally know how many blog posts this is going to take! Apparently 8 was the magic number. 

In the last episode of As the BookShelves Happen, the Philosopher was continuing to polish shelves.  Once all of the shelves were finally complete and had rested for a couple of days to let the finish oil set, we went on an entertaining game of shelving heights. 

If you are also a book lover and have a *robust* library, picture if you will trying to estimate how many bookshelves you need and of which height. Oh, and don't use regular measures, use a few books that are about the correct height. We defaulted to three/four books -- a regular paperback, a trade paperback, a Lovecraft book (unpictured) and this very tall knitting book that I grabbed from my office. (Knitting books live in the home office next to the yarn, not in the livingroom).  And we tetrised, and planned, and discussed, and how many-Cthulhu's did we actually need? 

That many, apparently. Note that this isn't actually the final pattern -- a few shelves did get moved around a bit more, but you can see it beginning to take shape. We used all 27 shelves that I'd ordered. Had I planned that? Not really. IKEA let's you stage your IVAR shelving digitally-- sort of, it doesn't work quite as well as I'd like -- but I'd ordered "this many seems like it should be correct" number of shelves. And it worked out nicely. Go me. 

Isn't the color of the shelves lovely? The Dark Bourbon really did turn out well. Each shelf is different with the knots and occasional wood plug and all the striations. The Odie's Oil finish is absolutely stellar.  It initially feels like absolute satin. That tones down over the first 48 hours but the hand is really lovely. It's also food-safe, though I doubt I'll be doing any vegetable chopping on these shelves anytime soon. 

And then came the loading of the books. The far set of shelves is mine, we split the middle, the near shelf is his.  This was still mid-loading, but as you can see, no problem filling the shelves. It's now this wonderfully cozy giant wall in our livingroom. I love it. 

You didn't think that was our only shelving to tackle, did you?  While we didn't get these refinished, I did go ahead and do a temporary load so that more cardboard could go away.  These two small shelves were in my bedroom when I lived in LaCrosse and they've moved the three times since. They aren't especially fancy or nice but they serve very well and I'm looking forward to painting them next spring. For now -- it's my children's book collection: 

And my graphic novels and coming books. Astute readers will see I have all of the Girl Genius graphic novels and a stack of the original small format Cathy Guisewite books. 

It's so lovely to have our books out again. But it's also made me realize just how many books I have that aren't read and so that's something I'm making plans to address. They're lovely books and they are *right here* -- I own them even.