I just started my third pair of socks. Bored by the idea of a plain sock, I decided to put two tiny cables (twisting in opposite directions) down the middle of each side of the sock leg. I was on a plane at the time, with no reference materials, so I worked it out in my head and am now proceeding with the resulting half-baked plan. So far, so good, but we’ll see how it shapes up a few more rows in. :)
This is my first attempt at cables for any real project. I made some cables on a swatch five years ago, but that’s about it! Whee!
This is the third sock I’ve knitted. I finished it in record time—just under two months! It’s sock weight yarn, knit on size 2 needles, so it’s a more of a “real” sock than my first attempt (worsted weight yarn, size 4 dpns). I absolutely adore the colors and the pattern (mostly simple, with a spiral rib column down each side of the leg). I’m also a total convert to the magic loop method, and I think I now understand how to adjust any regular dpn pattern to work with the magic loop.
I would have cast on its mate immediately (to avoid the dreaded second-sock syndrome), but a friend is knitting it instead. Once she finishes, we’ll switch to knitting her socks (one each). I can’t wait!
I’m working on my second pair of socks. This time, I’m using the “magic loop” technique of knitting them on a long circular needle, rather than double-pointed needles. So far, so good; it really is easier to do it this way, even though it takes a bit of effort to translate a dpn pattern into the new framework (at least for me, at this point!). I’m also knitting with much finer yarn, and smaller needles. So far I’ve knit the leg of the sock (with a spiral rib pattern down the sides) and the heel flap.
I actually finished these socks back in early December, but haven’t had a chance to complete the goal here until now. The second sock was definitely easier, both technically and psychologically. And the resulting pair of socks is absolutely fabulous! Warm, soft, blue… what more could I want? I wear them around the house constantly. The real question is whether I can make my next pair before this one wears out.
I did it! I cast on the beginnings of sock #2. Since it’s been four years since I cast on sock #1, I had forgotten how wretched those first rounds are, when the needles are sticking out every which way and the yarn keeps making slippery bids for freedom. (Part of this is due to the metal needles I’m using. Give me bamboo any day!) I remember being told, with sock #1, that it would get easier to keep the needles in line as the sock gained mass, and I remember that this is actually true, but that doesn’t make the start any easier. Still, I’m two rows in now. The sock is on its way!
I finished my first sock late last night. This sock was the first knitting project I ever started, almost four years ago. I’m grateful to an avid knitter friend who inspired me to take it back up (and complete it!). And yes, hand-knit socks really do feel heavenly on your feet!
This sock also taught me the important lesson that you cannot, in fact, just change the number of stitches to suit your gauge, rather than the other way around. Never do this, unless you’re far, far more experienced (or it’s something like a blanket, where it doesn’t really matter). I almost tore my hair out trying to adapt what I’d created to fit the later directions involving increases and decreases and still get something shaped remotely like a human foot. But all is well—I just have to figure out how to duplicate it for the second sock.
In an attempt to avoid the dreaded Second Sock Syndrome, I am going to cast on the other sock tonight.