This past Wednesday, we were privileged to attend Trinity’s Mission Day, which was like a one-day mini-conference on Anglican missionary work. We were in workshops and discussions and gatherings all day, and of course, I knit the whole time. As I sat there, listening to the stories of those who have spent their lives doing daring things for the Kingdom of God, I looked at my sock and felt a little silly. Was I really going to push myself to meet a completely arbitrary, self-imposed knitting deadline when there are so many bigger needs to put real effort into? This is a question I am going to have to ponder in a more long-term fashion.
But for now, the answer is yes. Because I am ornery.
I finished the Fuscia Kilt Hose today with about 8 hours to spare before the close of (s)October.
There was some discussion the other day about what the singular of “hose” is. Is it hosen? hoser? hosum? ho?
Pattern Review: “Scottische Kilt Hose” in Nancy Bush’s Folk Socks are probably the largest pair of socks in the book. But, frankly, the gauge is not that tiny, so they go surprisingly fast. Don’t quote me on that, though – This is my third pair of knee-length socks in five months. My perspective is a little skewed. My gauge was a little finer than recommended in the book – 8 st/in on US2 needles – so I adjusted the pattern as follows: I cast on 91 stitches, did an extra repeat of the argyle lace, and in the main body of the sock I added 1 stitch to the stockinette portion of the rib so there are 6 knits in between. You’ll know what I mean if you do it, I think. All other changes were proportional, so you’ll have to figure that out for yourself. The little lace bit down the leg and foot was repetitive, but not mind-numbing. The fold-over faux-argyle lace is quite charming, as is the picot edge (though attaching the hem was among the most fiddly manouvers I’ve ever performed). And when I’m wearing pants, I can just flip the fold-over bit back up over my knees, and the socks will stay on even better.
I suspected it, but it was completely confirmed after pair #3, that the real reason I love knee length socks is that I think calf decreases along a fake seam line are incredibly sexy.
Yarn review: The only reason I am using this yarn – “Nature Spun Fingering” by Brown Sheep – is because I inherited it from Jonica after it made her fingers bleed. So if your digits are in any way sensitive, this is not the yarn for you. I didn’t mind working with it at all – but then again, I’ve almost worn off my fingerprints. I like the way it is a bit heathered and interesting looking, and it was a dream after Pace (God bless Universal Yarns, but really, I think anything might be better than Pace). Not to mention that there was so much yardage in this stuff that I finished both socks with only 2.25 50-gram balls! The stuff has other drawbacks, though. It is quite fine, so it really should be used at a tighter gauge than I did if you want it to stand the test of footwear. (I don’t mind because I think these will be special occasion socks.) Also, it is not machine washable, so don’t set yourself up for tragedy.
Because of the flipped cuff, and the fact that most socks shorten when they stretch over the leg, I was a little curious as to how many inches of tube I had actually knit to accomplish these socks:
…Yeah. 50 inches. Fear me, the universe… I can… knit long tubes.
Now the real question is, why don’t I own a kilt?