DPNs Please

How hard do you think it would be to find a set of size 2 DPNs in a town that boast 3 yarn stores?

Pretty damned hard, I'm learning.

Full disclosure: I want metal, I have metal, I work well with metal and metal doesn't give me nightmares of breaking in my purse leaving my work dangling amongst splinters.

The search: Knit store one--my knit store-- the one where they know me by name. I can have wood or bendy plastic with bolbus tips, ummm no, I'll pass. Knit store 2-- oh, so close to scoring-- they have INOX in all sizes (as opposed to #1 which had Inox up to size 0) can you guess, though which ONE size they were sold out of?

So I took my search on a more creative route. Walmart and Meijer's--- oh so close, but just not close enough, Ahhh but there's a Michaels, Michaels will have Boye and they've got to have those sizes that the Super Stores don't.

Can you believe that Michaels had 2 sizes of aluminum DPNs and 2 bamboo. That's right-- 4 sizes total, and that's all they had hooks for too. Someone should talk to them.

I'm not even going to try JoAnnes-- they don't carry sock yarns anymore. I was desperately looking the weekend I had to go see my dad off, I know.

So what am I to do-- well, I guess finish the stupid socks that I already have on the 2 sets that I currently own. Guess Lisa Souza's "Wild Things" will just have to wait. sigh.

And for those that are wondering about my absence-- well between catching the never ending cold and moving and misplacing my camera-- I just haven't had fodder for blogger.

Though I've made 2 sweaters and 2 pairs of socks with 2 more sweaters and 2 more pairs of socks on the needles-- it just isn't the same without imagery.

A Tale of Two Sockies

These socks are familial socks. They will be given to two sisters, my neices. And like my two nieces while the socks may have many similarities, they are vastly different.

For the younger niece, the sock on the left. Just as the sock, the neice is sweet and pretty and a bit unassuming. This is the child that has the knack of never being in a room when a fight breaks out. She can even accomplish this when all 5 of my parents grandkids are under the same roof. She can be trusted with white on her socks because she avoids muck instinctively.

The other sock goes to a child(teen) who has a flair for drama, she is vivacious and sometimes a bit obnoxious. This neice is the center of attention (and many times the center of the fight). This child and her sock never have to worry about getting lost in a crowd.

But the most beautiful chapter in the tale of these two sockies is the the final chapter was completed well before Christmas.

I wish everyone a safe and happy Christmas and I accept all well wishes for every wonderful holiday that is celebrated during this season!

babababababad to the bone

Socks v. Scarves-- Instant Gratification

or........ "How my LYS deluded me"

Maybe when I first discovered my LYS they highlighted sock yarn. I can vaguely remember a display towards the front of fine, verigated yarns that were called "sock weight" but I also remember displays patterns for sweaters and hats and vitrually everything else to do with the yarns.

I do know that I've never, ever seen in their flyer an advertisment for a sock class. I can attest to this because I've been playing with the idea of making socks for years but I've been a bit skeeered of the whole heel/toe process.

So, I've knit scarves-- a whole bunch of scarves. The ones that I haven't given away are on a 6' curtian bar I installed in my bedroom as they took up too much space in the hall closet. Now they are functional wall decore.

But through scarves (primarily novilty yarn scarves) I was told I'd get instant gratification, they are quick and the yarns are interesting and make cool fabric. Sounds great, eh? Trouble was that not only did the yarn loose it "oooooo" factor after I knit 6 inches or so, but they weren't as totable as I'd imagined and most would languish until I was struck with a massive finishitis virus or a need.

But socks, with socks I've found interesting color changes in verigated yarns, I've found patterns galore which I've yet to delve into and I haven't even had issues with SSS as I've WANTED to wear each and every cushy sock that's come off my needles so far (which would be 2 pair done, two first socks on needles now). I can walk while knitting a sock, I can stand and talk to someone, hell I can stand in line on Black Friday and almost not mind. I love socks, I love the little stiches, the way it grows without becoming huge and how seemingly fast all those tiny stiches knit up. And I love that everyone else love socks too-- so many patterns and books. So much yarn (my hookup: brooke5653 on ebay-- hand dyed merino to die for).

Everyone loves socks, except apparently my yarn store--that vision of desire that is only 3 blocks from my house, that house of refuge from the cruel outside world where I should spend countless hours fondling yarns.

They have sock yarn, one tiny-tiny display case of mostly self striping (puke) yarns at the very back of the store.

But they have novelty. Want to knit a jelly purse? And you thought we were so over the 80s.

Fine! Take it.

My baby sister has a nasty tendancy for asking, both directly and indirectly, for anything, everything........ I choose to believe that it's a subconcious tick that has developed through years of financial hardships, regardless, she can't spend 10 minutes in my house without suggesting that she would make better use of something that belongs to me then I do.

There are some items that she's become quite tenacious about. (and if I ever get robbed or loose everything in a fire I can count on her to provide the inventory). Some she doesn't stand a chance in hell of ever prying out of my grasp, while others she will recieve in due time (yes, I know, I enable-- but I'm a purger too, it serves my purpose.). For at least a year one of the items she has repetatively told me she's going to lift from my house is yarn, not just any of the stash, but a particular yarn which I've told her she'd have to wait on since I've stil got use for it.

This weekend, I decided to conclude this particular conversation, the easiest way. Do what I wanted to do with the yarn and give it to her. It's a lovely color way, I'll admit that, but now that I'm working on it, I have to admit, I don't like it. I've been working with natural fibers for so long now that this synthetic feels icky in my hand and I wonder if I'd feel the same when I wear it. Though, I can't give in to the sister and give it all to her........... what a quandry, to act like a sister or a rational adult? And maybe I won't hate it when it's done anyway.

The yarn was purchased during my e-bay craziness. At a time when I felt financial stress and so a cheap price looked like a great deal that I couldn't pass up. And I bought whatever I could get my hands on that was cheap. This particular yarn seems to be intended as a rug or craft yarn. It's thick, made of nylon and is on a very large cone-- were talking 5-7#s here. I'm sure that my indecision will cause me to continue to move forward. It's not like I don't rip out sweaters............ who knows, maybe I'll be in desperate need of a welcome mat someday.

Oh look, another sock.

And so it begins

When it became apparent that my father's health was fading, I forsaw that I'd be spending more time away from my couch and my TV and the happy place where I create sweaters. I also knew that I didn't like toting sweaters or even pieces of sweaters and I've got way too many scarves as it is. So the idea of learning to make socks started bouncing around in my head. I liked the idea and searched for a pattern and bought yarn (full disclosure, the first yarn I bought was chosen because it was the cheapest sock yarn at the yarn store).

I cast on at home the day that mom told me that dad was going to the hospice and I told her that I'd be there in two days. The next day I found my BIL at my door with istructions from my sister to get me to the hospice RIGHT NOW! I packed the sock, again with the idea that I'd be in a strange place for prolonged periods of time with not much to distract me but learning how to make a sock.

As it turned out, Dad died within minutes of my arrival at the hospice and the sock never made it out of my bag. However, it was my security blanket during the ride with my mother to her house and the next 24 hours that I spent with her. The sock also saw me through the viewing and the memorial service. The next sock helped me through the funeral dinner and the visitations over the course of the next couple of days by the dear friends and supporters that love my mother and loved Dad.

My dad would like the asymmetry of these socks. He would appreciate the randomness, nay the chaos that the yarn presented. I'm not entirely sure that I could have ever gotten two matching socks out of this yarn. Dad, like Grumpy has been around since 1937. Also like Grumpy, he had a gruff exterior but a heart of gold. He taught me old fashioned morals and ethics. He taught me to work and to be proud of my accomplishments and he taught me to be a great person. Dad taught me many virtues that he himself did possess and could never change his paradigm to ingrain into his charecter, but he taught them and ingrained them upon me anyway.


So one legacy has come to an end, but in his shadow, a new skill was born.

April 1937-November 2006

Daddy, I'll miss you.