I am on a sock-knitting binge. This is fuelled in part by my desire to clothe my feet in the loveliest of handknits once they come out of bandages, and in part due to the excitement of the lovely Liz having her new Hopscotch sock pattern up on Ravelry for all to download. Having myself made a pitiful attempt at writing a pattern for a walking stick cosy I have nothing but the utmost respect for people who can actually manage to transpose the activity of knitting into coherent instructions for others to use. I have no problem improvising random items like beetroot or mushrooms but when asked for instructions for even the most basic of these items I turn into an incoherent fool and start using a lot of phrases like ‘well you just kind of urm…’ and shrugging a lot.

Yes, my knitted vegetables live in my vegetable bowl. This is an idea joyfully plagiarised from the wonderful Rachael Matthews whose vegetable basket is a knitted and biological inspiration to behold.

A certain mathematical/constructional amnesia that I possess which prevents me from writing a decent knitting pattern down contributes to the massive respect I have for pattern-writers; a respect that I hope comes across loud and clear in my note to the BBC. The work of pattern-designers is awesome and the generosity of the online knitting community astounds me. When I think of the time that went into designing the instructions for the walking stick cosy (which is basically an unfussy tube with no cables or decorations of any sort,) my gratitude to all the designers who’s far more advanced design work is available online for free turns into a kind of awe. I have been quietly fascinated to watch the process of the Hopscotch pattern; the sock quietly appearing on Liz blog, then being finished, then going to the Uk S’n’B day with Oxford Kitchen Yarns as a fine example of what can be accomplished with semi-solid colourways, then being written down and test-knit, then revised, then re-test-knit by Liz and now online for all of us to make ourselves should we desire to do so. That all represents many hours of work and I love the way the progress of the socks has tied in with so many Bluestockings meetings and situations. The Hopscotch socks are like a personally magical pattern to me and have moved to the top of my Ravelry queue.

In other, sock-related news, I am currently pondering the dilemma posed by handspun Wensleydale. Having retreated to Sussex to begin my Missability project writeup many months ago, I purchased some lovely handspun Wensleydale yarn from Julia Desch there, which I recently knit up into a pair of Nancy Bush’s infant fancy silk socks. can anyone spot the difference?

That’s right, one sock is bigger in every single section. This is more than an absent-minded continuation of the cuff, heels etc.: this is knitters oddball pain. I love this yarn in this pattern but I fear that both socks will have to be ripped back and re-knit in some way that compensates for the descrepancy in yarn thicknesses between ball #1 and ball #2. I am gutted about the second (larger) sock, as the smaller sock is a perfect fit and the squishy, twisty pattern knit in this yarn makes a splendid fabric that is ultra soft and ultra warm. I have written to Julia Desch to request that I exchange this entire bunch of mismatched yarn for 200g of the same weight of yarn.

In other odd-sock knitting news, my Jaywalkers have progressed beautifully. I completed number one and it fits as perfectly as anything can over the remaining foot bandaging; I only pray the lovely fit will be just as good when the bandages come off. I knit the pattern using the 2.25mm needles and in spite of misgivings, the ankle and heel are actually on the large side. So I don’t have the reported tight, ‘I have to use a monkey wrench to get my foot in this’ problems that other people have cited. But I am very happy with the sock.

You see it photographed here on a score for music made out of everyday objects that I have transferred onto a discarded office shirt. It shall be completed later today.

But in my usual, disorganised and thoroughly incomprehensible manner, I appear to have commenced the 2nd Jaywalker with a different approach to the rib that appears on the sock. In retrospect I realise I have consistently done the double decrease on sock no. 1 incorrectly, so it has a slanty, diagonal look about it. It appears that instead of slipping the two knit stitches from left to right knitwise as one stitch, I slipped them separately, perhaps not even knitwise. On the 2nd sock for reasons inscrutable even to me, I appear to have followed the pattern correctly (see the awesome task that falls to pattern writers who have to instruct reclacitrant knitters like me?) and so the ribbing has no diagonal slant on it.

Here we see the slanty double decrease:

Here we see the correct double decrease, without any slanting:

Rather than rip back 10 rows of correct ribbing, I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to begin my sample sock tube. This was an idea I got from the wonderful Twisted Sisters Sock Workbook, which is beauteous indeed. I have never enjoyed swatching in the round; the swatches are unpleasing to look at afterwards, and it is difficult for me to get gauge with all that stranding in the back. So when I read about the idea of a constant sock-tube, I found it instantly resonated with me. You basically keep this tube on the needles at all times, bringing in new yarns when you need to get gauge or try out a sock pattern, see how a variegated yarn looks knit up in the round or test out some colourwork ideas.

I love this idea; and I love how one would eventually end up with a kind of diary or record of socks. So I made a note with all the particulars of the Jaywalker sock, threaded the live stitches onto a 2mm tiny circular needle that I will never need for any other purpose and calmy cast on the Jaywalker again, resolving to screw up the double decrease in the second sock so that it perfectly matches the first.

And now I really have procrastinated enough for one day and so must get on and stop feeling so sorry for myself. Honestly people, I had my toes broken a few weeks ago, I’ve been on crutches and had my toes covered in bandages and I’m on the highest dose of painkillers I can reasonably absorb. And all of this is *nothing* – I mean, no suffering AT ALL – compared with the random heat-rash that has suddenly kicked in since the weekend. Am I allergic to the summer? I am necking back anti-histamines like tic-tacs and nothing, NOTHING seems to take away the itch. The antihistamine cream that brings minimal, light relief stinks in the most displeasing way possible and the entire combination of drugs/creams/itching is really making me demented. I am ready to shave my skin off with a razor, stick it in a blender and then cellotape it back on. Does anyone else get like this when faced with random urticaria? Perhaps I should make a colourwork chart for it.

It’s at times like this that I really need the diversions Ravelry provides; my queue has never looked so good.