WARNING: Post contains talk about, and photos of, knitting.
Last Saturday, I arose with a spring in my step, for Saturday was the day that I was to turn my first sock heel. I had knit 8 long inches of "practice sock". I had completed the heel flap. I had slept well the night before and was feeling a little cockly. I had my sock pattern, a step-by-step photo demonstration and online videos at the ready. I sat confidently down with my sock and began.
I followed the pattern closely and made it through a number of rows before I realized that the heel was not taking shape as it should. I was puzzled. Perhaps after a couple more rows . . . or not . . . I tried to keep my cool as I realized that, despite my many resources, the heel turning had somehow eluded me.
I would like to pause here to state, in defense of my tiny brain, that the pattern was written assuming you already knew how to turn a heel, the photo-demo assumed your pattern would tell you how to turn the heel and the video demonstration was mainly about picking up stitches. Obviously, I didn't get that far.
Clearly, I would have to start the heel over. So I unravelled a little. Then a little more. Then tried to start again. Then got confused. Then frustrated. And then . . . came then.
To describe my reaction as "a meltdown" would not be inappropriate. I am embarassed to say that there were tears. There may also have been a throwing of perfectly innocent needles. There was certainly an angry, vicious unravelling of the entire practice sock. The F-bomb was dropped repeatedly. It was a SCENE.
Katr happened upon the scene just as the vicious unravelling began. I imagine it would have been rather confusing for her - one minute her beaverancée is humming and spritely and the next, she is TOTALLY LOSING HER SHIT over a SOCK.
Katr rolled into action immediately. She removed me from the sock and from the room where the sock went to die. She didn't mock me. She comforted me while I recovered from my strange and unreasonable freak out. And then she offered to TAKE ME TO THE YARN STORE to buy more appropriate sock tools and yarn.
It is like she loves me.
So later that day, Katr took me to the yarn store. And she bought me a new set of needles and a big ball of this:
which I have since turned into this:
I am entranced by the tiny stitches. Oooo, tiny stitches:
HEEL! My old nemesis. Soon I will turn you. For NOW, I have the proper instructions and I have practiced! HA ha!
While we were at the store, Katr also bought me these, so I could make her a sparkly scarf. I will gladly oblige.
In less dramatic knitting news, I have made some headway on the big chunky poncho pattern my mom bought me for Christmas. The pattern didn't come with a photo and I only saw the finished project once, so it's been a real adventure watching this thing come together. That SOUNDS sarcastic, but it's true. This thing is addictive. Also, the larger it grows, the more of my lap it keeps warm as I knit it. SCORE!
Yep. That's 100 stitches in Chunky Tweed on a straight needle. That shit was TIGHT, gang. Obviously, I invested in a circular needle shortly thereafter. And four weeks later:
Are you SEEING this?? I KNIT this!! Me! Come closer to the magic:
What concerns me are these "leaves" on the side, which, as you can see from the first poncho overview, are weirdly rumpled. I've been following the pattern religiously, so either they're SUPPOSED to look like that or I'm missing a page:
Maybe they'll "block out"? History will decide.
In "Finished Object but still mystery knitting" news, I have this:
knit from this:
waiting in the wings. Chezza, the longer it takes you to send me your address, the closer this thing gets to being MINE! ALL MINE!!