Tour of socks, part two: Modified Milkmaid

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Originally uploaded by Wordpurler

Strictly speaking, this should have been the first stop on our tour, because it was the first pair of socks I made last year, and the first of my semi-obsessive set of Upstream constructions. Oops. Please excuse me the non-chronological order of our tour.

One of the patterns in New Pathways for sock knitters is for the Milkmaid Socks. They are a darling pair of white and blue socks with a lace inset. (Most milkmaids would probably end up with cow pie on their socks, but these must be for some sort of Disney-fied clean and tidy milkmaid, or for one with highly effective rubber boots.)

I received this Lane Cervinia yarn in a swap package and it sat around in my stash for a year or so until, one day, it called out to me that it needed to be socks.

(This was after I tried to force it into becoming an Ishbel shawlette. Epic Fail. It wanted to be socks.)

I dug out the New Pathways book and, remembering how much this yarn hated to be lace, started a standard toe and a plain stockinette foot on size 2 needles. By the time I finished the gusset and heel I decided to spice things up a bit and stole a modified Feather-and-Fan cuff from the Milkmaid socks. (It uses p2tog rather than k2tog for the decreases, which yields a very interesting texture.)

And, where I'd ended up with neck and shoulder pain when I knitted socks on size 0s or 1s, size 2s seemed to work just dandy.

A tour of socks, part one: Marsh-a, Marsh-a, Marsh-a!

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Originally uploaded by Wordpurler

In the spirit of rediscovering our friendship, I'd like to start small. To start with the small projects that I have been doing while taking breaks from (procrastinating on) my larger, more complicated projects.

I've been a sporadic sock-knitter since I made my first pair in 2007, but for some reason (coughCatBordhicough) I have really been churning them out lately.

It's not just because she's from the Pacific Northwest, or that she's a former teacher, that I think she's a genius. Cat Bordhi's brain really must work differently from other knitters'. I've been working my way (non-systematically) through the various "sockitectures" in her book New Pathways for Sock Knitters, and with her clear directions and clever twists, each pair of socks turns out just lovely.

This particular pair were made for my sister-in-law. She loves these colors, so when I got the yarn on sale from Knitpicks (Felici, in the color Marsh, now discontinued) I knew they would be for her.

I used a Whirlpool toe, then did 2x1 rib across the top of the foot, then the Upstream architecture for the gusset, which creates a triangle shape on top of the instep. Then I did a reinforced heel and a stockinette leg, then ended with a 2x1 rib cuff and Jeni's Surprisingly Stretchy Bindoff.

I don't know what it is about Upstream but it fits my foot and leg incredibly well. And, apparently, my sister-in-law's, because she loves these. She's not a knitter, so the idea of seamless socks ("There's no bump over my toe!" she exclaimed) was revolutionary.

As for the yarn--Felici is incredibly soft and silky. I used size 2 needles so I'm a bit worried about wear--the fabric wasn't incredibly dense--but it really was a joy to knit with.

Next up: more socks!

Hello old friend

April 6? Can that be right? Surely Blogger has made a mistake.

(It hasn't. And don't call it Shirley.)

You know how you have that friend who lives far away and sometimes you go months without calling or e-mailing and the longer time you spend without calling you convince yourself more and more that it would be awkward, nay, an IMPOSITION to call, and then one day you put on your big girl panties and you dial that long-distance number and you hear her voice say "Hello?" and you say, "Hi, it's me," and she says, "Hello!" with joy in her voice and, "I'm sorry it's been so long, I've been MEANING to call you," and you say, "Me, too!" and then the conversation is off and running and you wonder what took you so long?

That's me with this blog.

So:

Hello! I've been MEANING to call you. There's been knitting, and thinking, and writing, and ONE MILLION HOUSE PROJECTS and travel and birthdays and all kinds of wonderfulness.

I can't wait to fill you in.

Gumption

I am not the world's most assertive person.

I am totally comfortable working with teenagers, and I have no problem managing my classes...It's my peers that get me.

When grown-ups are rude, insensitive, nasty, and/or unprofessional (and I've worked with folks that managed to be all four at once!) I just have no idea what to do. Sometimes it's because I don't want to draw anyone's fire...sometimes it's just that I don't want to be seen as bitchy. I've always been a peacemaker, and I forget sometimes that just covering over a problem sometimes lets it fester, and ends up making me feel bitter and unappreciated. I've really been working on this in my relationships lately.

So, with that in mind, dear readers--let me regale you with a story of how I grew some gumption this weekend.

We had dropped the kids off in Olympia with Grandma and Grandpa and then drove the rest of the way to Portland for a gift-night-away. We checked into in this cool hotel and then headed out for some exploration. (We're pretty wild; our most solid plan included Powell's and the Deschutes Brewpub.) As we walked out the door in the rain, I think I actually heard the angels sing and saw the clouds part for just an instant: kitty corner from our hotel was--wait for it--Knit Purl.

As we walked past I made M promise that I could go back before it closed that day. The treat of visiting a yarn store I've heard about on many podcasts and seen ads for in my favorite publications gleamed like an aura around the rest of the afternoon. We had a lovely late lunch and a fantastic poke about Powell's, leaving with gifts for everyone. (I bought Alice Starmore's The Celtic Collection for $10 plus a Robin Hobb book I've been trying to find used; M bought a pint glass.) He decided to poke about for a bit more and head back to the hotel, releasing me to go to Knit Purl.

He knows well that he will be bored out of his mind if he goes to a new yarn store with me. My normal pattern is this:

1. wander around the store 10 times (minimum) and take mental inventory of their stock list
2. imagine all the projects I could make with all the yarn I see
3. inspect the store samples
4. fondle the yarns I haven't seen before in person
5. pet the old familiar ones
6. become completely overwhelmed because of course I don't have my queue with me or even know what's on it and hadn't planned to buy yarn today and - ooh is that Madelinetosh? - and what on earth do I need? needles? a project bag? aaaaaaaaah!
7. then, and only then, buy something practical as a souvenir. (Seriously. In Port Townsend last month, I ended up with a row counter.)

This process usually takes me about 45 minutes. Now you see why M elected to go back to the hotel and read his book rather than watching me orbit the store like an ADD goldfish.

So here's where the gumption comes in.

There were about five or six other customers in the store, all pretty much doing the same thing as I was. Circling, petting, choosing--just breathing in the yarn fumes. But one customer was a bit more high maintenance. When I came in, she was at the counter and the saleswomen were looking something up for her on Ravelry. She was about 6 months pregnant, very chicly dressed--including those knitted Ugg boots that I personally think look like slippers but probably cost more than I make in two weeks) and sounded like she was an experienced knitter--asking about Spud and Chloe yarn (which Knit Purl doesn't carry), talking about patterns. She was completely monopolizing the sales staff and talking very loudly, running back and forth to the sock yarn wall (I think she was looking at the ShibuiKnits selection).

The thing that got me, though, was at one point, about two minutes after I walked in, the conversation turned to "big box" shopping.

Disparagingly, one of the saleswomen talked about when people come in asking for big box brands. "Oh, you have to go to someplace like Michael's for that, " she sneered.

"Yeah," said Preggo Uggs, mimicking their response to such a gauche request. "'Go out the door and up the road a few blocks.'"

"No," replied Snobby McSnobster. "For that I think you have to go to the suburbs."

Cue catty laughter all around.

The clouds rolled in on my lovely treat. The store's atmosphere went from boutique to bitch; from the best meaning of "exclusive" to the worst. I got a lump in my throat, and I felt like leaving--just slinking out the door. I clearly was not Knit Purl clientele material.

There's room in the world for every kind of knitter, I fumed silently, and knitting snobbery chaps my hide. If someone wants to use Red Heart for every project, at least they're knitting, and not axe murdering. If I were that saleswoman, I'd use that as an opening to say something like, "We don't carry that line here, but may I show you something similar?" or "Have you ever tried X?" Every person is a potential customer and every customer is worth your time and respect, even if they're going to leave with one skein of Cascade 220, not $250 worth of Debbie Bliss Cashmerino.

I pulled myself together, though, and ended up choosing two skeins of Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock in the colorway "Tahoe," a beautiful blend of purples and aquas. It just matched my mood (not to mention my shirt) and will be a lovely reminder of our rainy weekend in Portland.

(side note: I see why so many people buy sock yarn as souvenirs--it's usually a good price point, there are often local dyers available, and it's very portable. I just wish I knit more socks.)

As I took it up to the counter, I resolved to say something when I normally wouldn't have, when I usually would just have stored up my frustration and never darkened their doors again. As the saleswoman (not the snobby one, phew!) wrapped up my yarn and swiped my card, I mentioned how excited I'd been to see their store was so close to my hotel and that it was my first visit.

"Well, welcome!" she said.

"I don't mean to be rude," I said, "but I just wanted to say that I live in the suburbs, and I sometimes shop at Michael's. To hear that as a topic of conversation in such a disparaging tone when I came into the shop didn't feel very welcoming."

She looked a bit chagrined. "I can see that. I'm sorry."

"Just some food for thought from a customer service perspective," I said, smiling, and took my yarn.

The cutest shoes in the world

Mary Janes from Ysolda's pattern...adapted slightly because I ran out of the stripey yarn, so I did blue soles with some leftover Knitpicks Essential.

Nothing is cuter than baby shoes.

My colleague, who welcomed his baby daughter last week, showed me a photo of her wearing them...and they're even cuter on a baby...what a fun pattern!

Shout out to the singletons

I haven't posted in so long, Safari forgot about "blogger" and I had to type in the whole address. Sheesh.

What a week.

Mr. D came down with a persistent and mysterious virus that has kept his temperature just too high for me to feel at all comfortable with him going to school. This virus coincided with the one week EVER since we had kids that M has been out of town for more than 2 nights--he's attending an education conference in Arizona.

This means that for the first time ever I have missed a full week of school. (Or, to be precise, as of tomorrow it will be a full week.)

It's great that I can keep in touch, somewhat, with school via remote access to e-mail, and my publications staffs can talk to me on the phone. But it's isolating, and stressful, to be so needed in two places at once.

So: shout out to the single parents out there. I've been one for three days and that's enough for me.

So--you'd think I'd be knitting during the hours of house arrest, watching over a sickly coughing 101-feverish boy, but alas...duty calls. Instead, I've been commenting on essays, writing lesson plans, and catching up on some professional reading. (OK, I admit to a few loooooooong rows on my becoming-considerably-unwieldy log cabin afghan.)

So here's to a better tomorrow and an end to this endless week...

Feeling Crochety

What a couple of weeks it's been.

For most, January is a time of new beginnings, of fresh starts, of optimism and the return of light.

I realized this year that I don't feel that way about January at all, because I'm a teacher.

My fresh start is in September and that's when I do much of my goal-setting. The cycle of the calendar year is somewhat incidental; it's school years that shape my world.

So, for a high school teacher, January is a mid-point: yearbook deadlines, semester grades (and grading...oy) and writing umpteen letters of recommendation for students' college applications.

This January was busier than I can ever remember.

First off, on the personal front, my darling baby boy turned 7. Though we didn't do a big party, we had a wonderful family weekend of going out to breakfast, bowling, movies, and friends. My mom and dad came over from Spokane (a 400+ mile trip for a weekend--they must really love that little guy) and we had a really fun and relaxing time.

Then came finals. There is a certain amount of teacher amnesia that happens for me each year. You know how the memory of labor fades over time? It's got to be some kind of evolutionary trick to keep us having children. Well, the pain of semester finals grading is always a surprise to me--the professional equivalent of labor--and after collecting exams and papers from every single one of my English students, I settled into a week of 12-14 hour days to simultaneously finish last semester--because the teaching load doesn't change just because there are finals to finish--and begin this one.

I don't like to complain about my job, because I love it. So I hope this doesn't seem like complaining--it's just the facts of the profession. I imagine tax accountants feel the same way about the time from January to April 15th. But my normal routines of life get upset and my boundaries get a bit tweaked...So it's nice to have grades posted and be back to normal.

With normal came a few hours here and there in the evenings to knit (and crochet) and plan out projects. I had bought yarn for a sweater for M in the new year's day sale at my LYS. I'll start it as soon as I finish my Central Park Hoodie (a sadly unblogged project, but both arms are done and the body up to the neck divide. I'm knitting it in the round with steeks because I'm crazy that way). Then will come some sort of vest for my mom, and then three baby blankets (I may do quilts instead) for the three friends I have expecting babies in June; one girl, two boys. Last, but not least, I bought the kit for this vest, which will be the colorwork project I never finished from NaKniSweMoDo.