The joy of socks (part 3)

There has been a lot going on over here - there always is; but I've still been working away at those socks in odd moments. Socks are always a slower job than you think they're going to be, or, at least, than I think they're going to be. I think "oh, socks, they're only about the size of a baby jumper, I can knock a pair of them up in about a week". Well, no; it's not really like that, and for two reasons. First of all, you're using a fine yarn. (Yes, 4-ply patterns for baby jumpers do exist, but they don't tend to involve cables. I think designers have the idea that cables are somewhat rugged. Well, they certainly can be, and rugged ones do look effective; but there's no actual reason why they have to be. I would absolutely knit a cabled baby jumper in 4-ply yarn.) And the other reason is you're knitting in the round, and that is intrinsically slower than knitting flat, because you have to turn stitches round so they don't twist. (Your mileage here may vary; it does depend a lot on your technique. In my case I have to turn all my purl stitches, whereas I can get away with the knit ones by working them from the other side. However, I think everyone has to do at least some turning.)

But, we are, as my friend P says, getting there. (When I ask him exactly where he's getting, he always says he doesn't know. Perhaps it is better to travel hopefully than to arrive!) I have turned the heels and am now working up the leg part, which I suspect is going to be rather short because there isn't a vast amount of yarn in these sock packs. That's all right. I always wear either trousers or a maxi skirt anyway. And that means, to begin with, that I get to squee at you about the heels.

I've linked the Fish Lips Kiss Heel in a previous post, so I won't do it again here; but I have to say that once you've done it that way, it's more than likely that you will consider all other methods of turning a heel to be null and void. I am not going to go into detail about the technique because it wouldn't be fair to the inventor; she doesn't charge much for it, but she does charge, and I don't want to damage her income. However, what I will say is it works by doubling up stitches at the turn points, so - counting each of these double stitches as a single stitch - your stitch count never actually changes. Moreover, you always know exactly where to turn because the double stitches act as handy markers. You start off by working a triangle (more or less - the point is cut off because your heel is rounded at the back) of decreasing short rows, which leaves you with a line of doubled stitches either side of the centre of your row. Then you do a couple of "boomerang rows" across all the stitches to incorporate all the doubled stitches back into the work; at this point, and only at this point, you do very briefly need a couple of stitch markers, but most of the time there is no marking or counting required at all. And, finally, you work the corresponding increase nearly-triangle, but this time you're incorporating the doubled stitches almost as soon as they're made. Once you get the hang of the technique of making the doubled stitches (there's one way to do it for knit stitches and another for purl stitches), the whole thing is ridiculously easy, and, unlike most methods of turning a heel, highly mistake-resistant. Plus, you get the most beautiful heel; the stitches all just melt into one other. There's no line of holes, you don't have to yank at the turns (I do pull a little bit harder at those points, but really only a little), it's strong, it's sturdy, and it is simply everything a sock heel ought to be. Oh, yes, and you don't have to do it toe-up the way I do. If you prefer cuff-down, that's absolutely fine. She gives instructions for that as well.

Anyway, my sister - not the sock-knitting one, but the other one - very kindly sent me a Vegan Yarns voucher for Christmas. I think I've previously mentioned that Vegan Yarns is amazing. It appears to be a one-woman operation, and the one woman (whose name is Adelle) is clearly not so young and not in the best of health, but you can't fault her skill, her knowledge, or her enthusiasm for what she does. In particular, she hand-dyes all the yarn, and she is outstandingly good at variegated effects; and she doesn't charge any extra for custom jobs. She clearly just really enjoys yarn dyeing. So I asked her if she could do me a) a Kelly green with a darker green contrast; b) a burgundy with a grey contrast; and c) a grey with either a red or a green contrast, I didn't mind which. The results arrived the other day, and here they are in all their glory. (I also have some red yarn and some dark olive green yarn, but those came with the yellow and are still in skein format, because she forgot to wind them for me. She was very apologetic about that and gave me a nice little discount on this order to make up for it.)

The yellow socks were originally intended to be experimental, and I was a little afraid they were going to be too big and need to be worn as winter oversocks. However, this yarn is not very elastic, so I think I may get away with wearing them on their own; I won't know till they're off the needles, but they're looking promising. And I was working on them yesterday morning before church started (I sing in the music group about once a month, and when I do I invariably bring my knitting, because I'm not able to help with the setting up so I usually have to wait around for a while), and I noticed just how well they went with my gold Southbank. That's great, because the more I work on them, the more I like them. And to think I was a little hesitant about that colour before I bought it!

There will be a photo of the yellow socks once they're finished. Possibly even on my feet.