Socks for a pirate

I finished Red Todd Kidd's socks. Twenty days ago. I'm totally lagging on the FO posting. I was mortified to discover that I was going to run out of the main color before completing the second sock but since my LYS was out of it and RTK didn't care I just finished it off with the grey. It makes me crazy but no one else cares so why should I? But I do care. Jebus help me, I care. I want that sock to match the first one and it galls me that it doesn't. Especially after having to rip out the tops with all the beautiful braiding and replace it with regular boring ribbing. Which is one of the reasons that I ran out of the MC yarn. Anywhoo... Pattern: St. Peter Port Stripes Socks from Folk Socks by Nancy Bush. Yarn: Brown Sheep Company's "Wildfoote Luxury Sock Yarn" in Zane Grey (MC), Black Orchid (CC1), and Gunsmoke (CC2). Needles: Takumi Clover size 1 DPNs (went up a size from the pattern to make a larger sock). Adjustments: Well, I did the beautiful braid work at the top but couldn't get it loose enough to go ver RTK's foot so I had to tear it out and put some plain ribbing up there. Also I ran out of yarn, as I mentioned before, so if I did this again I'd get two balls of the MC. What I hated: I wasn't crazy about carrying the colors up the back of the work, I think I'd ratehr weave in ends to prevent puckering. I also loathed the heel on these things. I'm not a fan of grafting so doing it once at the heel and again at the toe just made me mad. The heel for these is just show-offy and I don't like it. A standard heel is good enough for me plus, no seam under the foot that way. What I loved: RTK likes them and has worn them several times, that makes me very happy. I do really like the yarn, many people find it splitty and I agree that the tweeded MC is, it also twists back on itself some which is annoying BUT I loved it anyway. Well worth it. And that's what I did on my summer vacation. Whoa, De ja vu.

Not Irish

I'm not Irish. Not even a little bit. Nope. So of course last night I went out to celebrate St, Patrick's Day with the horde of other non-Irish people who use it as an excuse to drink copious amounts of all manner of booze and throw up in their friend's cars/lawns/beds etc. I didn't see a single person throw up this year so I consider it a majorly successful evening. I also remember most of the stuff that happened so another success right there. Of course I was dead to the world until well after 9am today but the kids didn't complain too much about their late breakfasts. Anyway, every two days after the ides of March one of my oldest friends both literally and chronologically, in fact for the blog here we'll call him Methuselah, throws a party to celebrate his drunken heritage. He happens to be Irish but he also happens to be a drunkard and that second thing is what he's celebrating before you get your hackles up and get all pissy about Irish bashing or some such (and by the way, Methuselah's little brother The Cowardly Lion also just as Irish and somehow never as drunk, I'm just saying). I see I've lost my point, has anyone seen it anywhere? I seriously doubt it but hell, it never hurts to ask. Oh yeah, Methuselah threw a party as he is wont to do. Methuselah's parties are generally the most random I've ever been to. You never know who you'll run into from what phase of your life. Sometimes that's cool but more often than not it's incredibly awkward. Occasionally it leads to Lucky Champagne having a throw down while Napoleon and I scream insults at people. I gotta tell you, that's some role reversal, Lucky is much more an insulter and Napoleon and I are not shy with the face punching. Moderately amusing aside, the throw down mentioned above took place for a number of reasons which mostly involved some idiot punching Lucky in the stomach for no real reason but also because Napoleon decided that some other idiot wasn't allowed to talk to or about me in the particularly insulting manner in which he had been. I find that funny because the last time I got into a fight it was partly because some bitchy girl was talking about Napoleon in a similar manner (also I punched her boyfriend for grabbing my ass and she was pissed about it, you know, like you do). See, this is why none of you six or seven readers would really want to know me in the real world, clearly I don't abide there. The more I blog about my life instead of my knitting the more charming I sound, right? So last night Red Todd Kidd, Lucky, Kaylee, Edina and I all head out into the unkown of Methuselah's place. I'm happy to report there was no fighting not screaming of insults and we all had a pretty good time. But then again, I haven't heard from anyone yet today and it's entirely possible that my version of events has nothing to do with reality, it wouldn't be the first time. I bet you're wondering what the hell this post is about and what it has to do with anything. Sadly, there is no point. I was just posting because I had a few minutes and it's been awhile and also if I ramble about this I won't have to dig out the pictures of RTK's socks I've been meaning to post for hella days. I hate loading pictures.

So ahead of my time

(Click on the pics for larger views) This week's knitty blogstalking is to post a pic of yourself in a Halloween costume, past or present. As you can see I've posted my Bezzie costume circa 1982, proving once again that I am way ahead of my time. Please not the supermodel pose I've struck on the orange vinyl sofa. I wonder what happened to that afghan... The truly great thing about this photo is that it's from a series of photos whith each one Im pulling a different pose. You see, I've always been odd I just used to be adorable as well. If you want a real trip compare the pic here with the one of Miss Beans at the bottom of this post, cue the theramin music, it's a clone! So this weekend was Darth's fifth birthday party. I never got around to ordering a cake and so I ended up making one at the last minute. Knowing me that doesn't seem out of the ordinary now, does it? Also knowing me I'm sure you're wondering what kind of multiple rediculous road blocks popped up to threaten the formation of said cake. You may also be wondering what kind of masochistic hurdles I set up for myself since I can never seem to do anything normal like bake a cake with out turning it into an epic saga full of blood sweat and tears (it's a good one this time: I, the person with little artistic ability, decided to make a cake that looked like a treasure chest spilling candy, because tht's a simple Friday night project. For an encore maybe I'll convert our house from electricity to cold fusion and then ride my magic carpet to the moon). If you're not wondering any of that then I really don't know what you're doing here, I mean, this blog is very clearly about my insanity and the use of the subject to moderately entertain others while they're surfing the net on company time. Anyway... 7pm: It all started at the grocery store. Now who would have ever guessed that the weekend before Halloween was a prime party time? I know it seems so obvious and yet on Friday night as I pulled up to the store to get cake mixes and whatnot I was totally baffled as to why the store was overrun. It only took a blindingly huge sign declaring an urgent need to stock up on chips an dip for me to realize my folly and insantly I was off like a flash trying to get what I needed and get out before party time at 1pm the next day, no small task. Delightfully I managed to get most of what I needed and on sale exept two things: a light bulb and cake mixes. The light bulb was no big deal, we've been sitting in the semi dark for two days already so what's one more? The cake mixes though were a problem. They were having one of those damn 10 for $10 sales that cause people to stock up like Aramgeddon is upon us, frothing at the mouth and taking things out of others' carts when they're not looking. What? You don't shop in the third circle of Hell? What was I talking about? Oh yeah, cake mixes. All they had left was lemon. I see this woman with a cart full of yellow cake mixes and I basically shame her into giving me three of them so that my poor son who's turining five won't have a birthday with no cake. As it turned out, they weren't yellow cake, they were butter cake. A whole stick of butter and three eggs in each one. Can you say heart attack? 8pm: I get home and I start slapping these things together as fast as I can so I can also get the kids bathed and in bed, stuff goody bags, wrap presents, etc. The first batch (two 9x13 cakes) come out of the oven relatively without incident until I take them out of the pans. Both of them stick to the bottom of the pans and don't come out well but I made do, leveled them and tried to frost them. Ever frost a cake and have it totally fall apart as you go? Not fun. Red Tod Kidd had the genius idea (I'm not being sarcastic, it was a good idea) to run the frosting cans under hot water to sofen it up. Worked like a charm. I got those two cakes stacked and frosted and the third (and final) one in the oven. Sadly, as you can see from the lovely labeled picture I've provided, it never made it out of the pan at all. Back to the store. 10pm: I went to the other nearby grocery store to find that they had had a similar sale and been cleared out but at least they had a nonsale brand of cake mixes in stock. I got one yellow, one chocolate just to be safe and high tailed it home where I got yet another cake oven ready and then wrapped presents until it was done baking and cooling. I may have stopped to go to the bathroom or something but I can't remember now, it's a blur. I finally finished the damn thing at almost 1am and then I had to clean up the mess (oh, and DAMN was there a mess). Living the dream, I'm living the dream. Let this be a lesson to all of you, order the ephing cake ahead of time so that you don't feel compelled to bake the most awesomest cake ever for a kid who probably won't remember it in a week just because you feel guilty about not geting your act together sooner. Oh, and I was also under the guilt of not finishing the birthday socks. I'm almost done shaping the gusset on the second one.

Making peace

Crumpets is slow going as you can see. I'll be giving pattern notes for this thing when I finish it since it was very poorly written. On the bright side you can see my very first pair of Addi Turbos in that picture and I am LOVING them. They make me dread the rows of cabling because I don't want to touch the cable needle when I could be touching those slick shiny new Addis. The cable needle you see in the pic isn't the one I'm using, the one I like up and dissapeared, likely forever lost in the chair I do my knitting in. I've been using a cable hook actually and I don't love it to say the least. I wish I could do the cab;es without a cable needle but this is definately not a project where that is possible. I can also tell you that there's no danger of me becoming a cotton junkie anytime soon. My poor fingers are suffering from the stuff. But the beads. I love the beads. Beaded knitting my just be my new thing. It's so much fun! I can't wait for the bead rows. I love how they look! Well, I'd love them more if they were the clear purple beads I wanted instead of the dark metallic beads I'm using. Let me tell you it was not fun to dig through the bag of multicolor beads looking for the purplest ones but I think it was worth the effort for them to match a bit better. You can see that some of the beads are still blue or green but they've got purple over at least half of them because they tricked me into thinking they were purple long enough to get into the project. Which reminds me... A few pattern notes for those who wish to make Crumpets: 1) Prestring the beads before you cast on. 2) An example of the Picot Cast On can be found here: Knitty pattern for Miss Dashwood. 3) You will need WAY more beads than the pattern calls for. I'm not sure just how many but I wish I had stung on at least an additional 25%. 4) Slip all stitches knitwise unless other wise instructed. This may be intuitive to you but it sure as heck wasn't to me. I always slip my stitches purlwise so they don't twist. In this pattern you want that twist. 5) Just because you swatched doesn't mean you'll get the right size. Just remember that the pattern stitch for the top is a multiple of six so after you've seen how crazily huge it is, rip out and guess at how many stitches you'll actually need using a multiple of six. Sorry, I haven't come up with a better way just yet. Once I've finished I'll be sure to share the actual pattern gague for the top section. I'm sure there will be more and I'll put all of this in my pattern review when I finish the thing. Oh! I almost forgot, I'm actually reading a book! I know this may not seem like a monumentous event to most people but when you have two small children, it's very difficult to read anything that is longer than you can read in the can. I'm reading a book by the Dalai Lama because that guy fascinates me and also because I'm an angry, angry person and hopefully this will help. Okay, I have to go, I can hear Darth talking about jumping off his bunk bed, he's four, that won't go well.

At tea parties in Hell they serve...

CRUMPETS! This pattern is the bane of my existance! I swatched. I really did. If my new digital camera were here I'd show you the swatch. The perfect sized swatch that I did. And I'll be damned if several inches into the thing I didn't realize that not only had I twisted my cast on for the first time EVER but it was a lso a good SIX inches bigger around than the size I was knitting was supposed to be. Before I even got to that point, the tearing-it-out-while-screaming-obcenities-and-shaking-my- fist-at-the-sky point. I had issues with this pattern. It calls for a picot cast on but omits the two sentence directions for said cast on. They do include two pages of pictures of some kid wearing the finished item which, however cute, are not helpful to ANYTHING having to dowith this pattern. There's a detail of the pattern stitch given but no detail of it with the beadwork. Speaking of the beadwork, they don't mention anything about prestrining the beads until you're supposed to start slipping them into place. I just think that in a four page pattern that prints in a 12 point font and includes two pages of pictures, a few sentences to say, "Hey prestring the beads and to do a picot cast on you cast on five stitches, bind off two, and repeat until you have the right number of stitches for your size," might have been nice. I'm not sure what my gague problem is yet but I'm going to go get some new needles tomorrow. I'll get a pair in the same size I was using but with a shorter cable as I may have ben stretching it, and another pair in a size smaller in case that doesn't solve the problem. If I end up knitting this thing on needles a size smaller AND have to knit the smallest size in order to get it to come out at the medium size I will not be a happy camper especially since, as I may have mentioned, I SWATCHED! Damn that adorable pattern! Ahem. As I mentioned, I'm getting a new digital camera. Red Todd Kidd and I (as predicted) are giving it to each other for our birthdays. It should actually arrive on my birthday (Wednesday). I'm actually typing this on one of RTK's b-day gifts: a snazzy light-up keyboard. It's still pretty stiff so forgive my typos. I got some birthday gifts of my own this weekend. A couple of new westerns for the ol' movie collection. That's the current genre I'm into. I'm going to be running a Western themed RPG here pretty soon (my other nerdy hobby) so I've been watching insane amounts of westerns. I have decided that Clint Eastwood is about the coolest guy ever. Anyway. I've also decided that since I never read anymore, I'm going to switch out the "What I'm reading" thingy on the sidebar to a "Movie(s) of the Week" thingy. I promise someday I'll read again. I just can't do it when Lola Beans eats my books. Seriously, she's eaten more than one.

Hide the yarn, Sarah's on the loose.

Soooooo. I decided to make Crumpets for Lola Beans' birthday. Very cute. I thought to myself, hey, I have some DK weight yarn around here. Turns out it was KP Merino Style in Storm. Didn't much care for it for Miss Beans so I thought I'd over-dye it and make it sort of a verigated purple. Did I mention I've never dyed anything before? Well, inexperience has never stopped me from jumping into the wading pool head first before so I gathered up some Kool-Aid packets and went to town. It didn't go as I had hoped. Then I decided I'd try something just for you, my readers. In the history of knitbloggers I have never heard of anyone trying to bleach a bad dye job and re-dye it (like I've done to my poor hair in the past). So I have four (yes four) skeins of Merino style sitting in a bleach soak in the sink as I type this. I'm afraid to go look at it's progress. Okay, it's time, I'll keep you posted. Edit: So far it doesn't look much different but it's wet. One of the skeins is a bit greenish now. The rest look a tad lighter but like I said, they're still wet. I don't know if it was the bleach or the fact that I rung them out (because I don't care that much anymore) but they did full slightly. I ran my fingers through them a bit and they're fine now. They're hanging in the garage to dry. I'm off to shop for back up yarn. Toodles.

Vegas baby, Vegas

Three years ago today I was in Vegas getting married. It rained. It also hailed and flash flooded. Some would call that a sign, I call it Worst Road Rage Ever. It was a series of mishaps from start to finish. Apart from the inclement weather, we also faced an overbookage nightmare in that the Nascar race was there that weekend and there were NO hotel rooms in the entire vicinity. Seriously. We managed to nab a place after several hours of searching, it was sub par to say the least. They had painted over the windows instead of putting up curtains, it was made of cinder block, and every single channel on the tv was blocked out (which we figured out by using a bobby pin to flip the channels since the thing had no buttons). I mean, why even have one? All four of us (Myself, Red Todd Kidd, The Single Letter, and Fuzzy Tail) had to stay in that one room since there were no others. Oh, actually I forgot the first mishap of all (before we even left San Diego): Red Todd Kidd's ring. I couldn't get one. He wanted white gold, he wears a 12. I went to every damn department store in town and nothing (they don't stock that size but if I oredered it it could be in on Monday). I hit two pawn shops, no luck. Finally, I went to this weird jewelry shop near my old apartment that leaves their Christmas lights up all year. They sell estate jewelry and I thought I might get lucky. They didn't have anything BUT they had just gotten a bunch of stuff at an estate sale and hadn't gone through it yet. I told them I was desperate and I'd help them look. Awesome as they were, they pulled out a cart of tubs of unsorted, bagged, jewelry and three of us sat down and started searching. They found one yellow gold size 12 which was as close as anyone has gotten to what I was looking for. The owner told me to buy the ring and to come in when we got back from Vegas and he'd have a white gold size 12 waiting for me, even swap (not quite even actually, he gave me free engraving so in his ring it says, "Vegas baby, Vegas 3-01-2003"). Which is exactly what I did. Then there was the wedding itself. We couldn't get an Elvis since the whole city was fabulously crowded with Nascar fans getting hitched. What we ended up with was a female minister who was from somewhere in the UK. I couldn't place her since her speech was so slurred because she was hammered. She actually started singing about rainbows in the middle of the vows. The four of us were trying really hard not to laugh since at that point we thought we might actually show people the tape of our wedding someday. In truth, I only bust the thing out for a good laugh at parties once everyone's had a few. Don't we all look lovely in that photo? You would not believe how bright it was in that place. Talk about your Land of the Midnight Sun. And it was WHITE. Consequently the photos are washed out. Badly. To top it off we look like some weird gothic/rockabilly something. It was a total coincidence that we were all in black. Hell, I wanted a red dress. The only dress I could get that fit on short notice was that black one. I'm actually wearing platform shoes that make me seven inches taller because the dress was WAY too long (it was still just grazing the floor). But we did managed to get married. We did have a lot of great laughs. We did garner strange looks from rednecks as we blared the country cover version of Snoop Dogg's "Gin and Juice" as we cruised through Vegas. And that freinds, is what really matters.

What to do, what to do?

It has been a week since I gave up on my design project and I haven't knit a stitch. I need to get out of my knit-funk and do SOMETHING. ANYTHING. So I drew up plans for a little shrug for Lola Beans. Wendy of knit and tonic has an adorable shrug for her adorable girl but the sizes aren't right for my baby girl, she's still too small. I'd rather make up a whole new pattern than figure out how to resize another one so here I goo right off the deep end. The other thing is I know if I pick up sock yarn and size 2 needles I won't get far. I need something chunkier to get back in the groove. Something worsted. Something already in my stash... On a related note, Lola pulled the needles out of the garish sock and reduced it to well, nothing really. She pulled it out past the heel turn and I can't bring myself to remake something so ugly. Eh. None of my projects are really going well lately. Let's review: Satchel=short strap, wonky pockets, out of yarn. Blaze=screwed up cables, frogged. Garish socks=hella ugly and now hella nothing. Design project=didn't felt right, became wall art. I really want to do a clapotis but I don't think I have enough of the yarn I want to use plus I think now may not be the time to juggle all those stitch markers. And I don't have any stitch markers. Well, I guess I'm not doing that. I've been toying with the idea of a bag knit from tailor's measuring tapes... I have to do something but what? Do I restart Blaze? Do I try for a shrug for baby girl? Do I just run off screaming into the night, giving up knitting and starting a life of crocheted granny square afghans?

Don't judge me Jehovah's Witness guy!

Satchel is knitted and fulled. I ended up making further time consuming alterations to the pattern that blew up in my face. Ah the joys of being me. I decided to knit the strap sideways and do an I-cord edging on it. It's too short. The pockets came out different sizes. After much pulling they're close to the same size. Close. Red Todd Kidd has said that the size is "purse-ish" but that he likes it anyway. He lies. Lies like a rug. I was dreading this. Dreading that he'd be taking it to class and getting weird looks and then saying, "My wife made it," as he rolls his eyes and that Jehovah's Witness he's buddies with nods in sad sympathy. Pictures to come. When I can finally get over the shame. So like, a couple hours or something. You know, or now. I started some socks. They're hideous. I think the baby blue really sets off the garishness of the varigated yarn. If only you could see what these colors really look like. They're so much brighter in person. I don't know who they're for yet but I know they're not for me. I think it might be fun to give them to someone for a birthday or something just to see the reaction I get. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.