Tonight I finished up the rolled neckline on my raspberry sweater. It was pretty straightforward. I got all set to start on the sleeves, and when I read ahead in the pattern a bit, noticed that I needed a 16" circular needle. No matter, I thought, I'll just grab two size 8 circs and do the sleeves in the same way I've been doing the socks. In my catalogue of needles I have: 7's, 5's, 6's, 4's, 10's, 10.5's, 11's...but not a second size 8. D'oh!

As I frustratedly threw the sweater aside, I had my first experience of a yarn telling me what it wanted to be. It's a mystery merino that I got on sale around this time last year-two balls of it at 50 g each. It's an earthy green color with dark blue, rust, and yellow blended with it. It's yummy and soft. Tonight, it told me that I needed to make it into a pair of wrist warmers. I'm using the spiral rib pattern from Joelle Hoverson's Last Minute Knitted Gifts but I am using 2 size 5 circulars instead of the 12" size 6 needles called for in the pattern. So far, so good. I like how the socks on 2 circs method is proving applicable to all kinds of projects. I've been having visions of a tubular scarf...

I'm a loose enough knitter (hardy har har) that I must needs use size #1 or #0 needles with the finer sock yarns. Case in point, Jawoll something-or-other that I have had for a year or so and have lost the label for. I bought a set of size 2 circulars since I'm obsessed with the 2 needle method now, thinking, these are impossibly small, and the suggested needle size is a 3. And proceeded excitedly to work with Jawoll Unknown. I thought I was taking my looseness into account, but, no, when I swatched it on my size 2's it produced something akin to really tiny small chainmail. I swatched it on a pair of size 1's that I inherited from my Mamoo and they produced a fabric that looked more like sock fabric and less like peekaboo lace. So Jawoll will have to wait (hopefully not another whole year) until I can get some size #1 circulars. So sad. I have other sock yarn Regia Ringel I think? That is about the same size so it will have to wait. At this moment, I am sockless.

I'm getting quite a lot done on my raspberry colored sweater though. Last night I finished the top part of the front, including the neck shaping, and learned the 3 needle bindoff method for the shoulders. I think that I will now use ONLY the 3 needle bindoff for joining the shoulders. I tried it on when they were together and I really like the way it looks on me. I picked up the stitches for the neck in the car on the way to work this morning and eagerly started on the neckline ribbing. No I was not driving.

this weekend was some of this:

a finished pair of Wacky Socks. i revelled in their wackiness before attempting some of this:

my raspberry sweater is beginning to look a bit more like a sweater and less like a cummerbund for an elephant. i've officially unraveled all the old sweater, and i have been cabling my little heart out today. i'm not completely pleased with how the cables are coming out so far, but it seems to be the sort of thing that comes with practice. i'm going to have to study up on doing cabling without a cable needle. the cable needle makes the whole thing awkward and with much swearing.

of course this weekend because there was no homework there was also some of this:

nothing quite like a late afternoon nap with a warm kitty.

At 5:00 this morning, I was wide awake because my husband has an early meeting. And being the primary waker-upper in this household, I get to wake up first and worry over whether we will make it on time.

And what was I thinking about at 5:00 this morning? My little leaf scarf, of course.

My first attempt at lace using the Branching Out pattern from Knitty and Elsebeth Lavold Designer's Choice Silky Wool.

It was all going so well...

...until that fateful day that I tried to work on it in the car on the way to work. And the pattern was in a plastic sheet protector with sticky notes sticking out of it. And it slipped off my lap as I almost poked myself in the eye . And the sticky note kept falling off and getting floor carpet gunge on the stickem, and then not sticking back on very well.

And the pattern said "You will have 31 stitches on the needle." And I counted. And there were 25. And no matter how logical I tried to be in tinking it back and finding my mistake, there was always another mistake to fix. So the little leaf scarf has been sitting at the bottom of a drawer, neglected, for about a month now. I don't have the heart to rip it all out and begin anew.

But this morning, at 5:00 no less, I thought I heard the little leaf scarf whispering to me from inside the drawer - - "Make me into socks! I wasn't meant to be a scarf anyway! "

This is getting ridiculous. My obsession with socks is now official. I wonder how likely it is that because I had to be the primary waker upper, that I might get him to take me to the LYS on my lunch break, so that I can get some sock-sized circular needles? Hmmm.

today i finished the second of my pair of experimental socks. i found the mistake i made the last time and now understand why the first sock toe was perpendicular. the second sock toe is parallel as it should be, and via the use of the sock chimney, is actually grafted instead of some kind of odd slapdash stitching this time.

this is the sock chimney, a magic trick from Lucy Neatby. it makes grafting involve much less cussing.

and here are my fuzzy feet in my first pair of socks. going to wear the one with the perpendicular toe anyway. they're nice and toasty warm.

next up, two socks on two circular needles AT THE SAME TIME! la dee da.

in other news, my husband celebrated a birthday yesterday. he is now thirty years old. not quite as old as dirt, but definitely getting on in years. Happy Birthday, my Love!

Storm enjoys the felted kitty bed in the private corner. however, he wishes that i would put the camera away already. some of us are trying to sleep!

The second sock has presented a wealth of new opportunities in the mistake-making department. This time around, I've got a hole in my gusset (dear Liza, dear Liza), but not in the middle of the instep.

I also managed to place the row of twisted stitches too far from the heelflap join. And then I got all willy-nilly with the twisted stitches, so there is a decorative row of them across the top of the ankle as well.

I don't seem to be able to get the hang of ssp, so one side of my heel turn short rows sticks out in a very nice, neat, orderly series of little bars. I probably need to try putting the laptop up to the mirror and running the video on knittinghelp.com until I get it. I'm not quite sure what isn't clicking. I understand what the words in the instructions mean, but for some reason this one I have trouble reversing.

I suppose it doesn't matter because what's the heel to do but get stepped on anyway. Still, I'd like to be able to figure out how to fix it.

Here is a picture of The First Sock I Ever Made, in all its glory:

I dislike knitting ribbing, can you tell?

Overall, I am pleased with the results; it's not bad for a third attempt, and a first completed sock. Once its mate is finished, I foresee a winter of warm toes. There are a couple of things I'm still puzzling over, and am looking forward to revisiting as I try the second sock, which I see as a second chance.

First off, why is there a hole in the middle of the instep? Where in the pea turkey did that come from?

Secondly, although the Kitchener Stitch makes perfect sense to me in concept, I didn't understand the part of the pattern where you're supposed to transfer the stitches so that the sock faces frontwise rather than sideways.

I understand that one needs to do this in order to get the grafted-together stitches lined up parallel to the toe, rather than perpendicular. However, my grafting goes perpendicular anyway. I wasn't able to align the stitches on the needle so that they were both facing frontwise AND had the leading yarn on the first stitch of either needle. So my grafting itself is fine, but facing the wrong way. I can still wear it, but I'm very disappointed because I feel like my learning of the process is not complete. No, I'm not going to rip it out. I'm going to keep it so that I can compare it to its mate to see if I can tell where I went wrong the next time round.

I love knitting socks, and have developed an unhealthy hankering for sock yarn in all its softness, variegated colors and self-striping mystery. When leafing through yarn catalogues I always slow down at the sock yarn pages, and have succumbed to temptation more than once and bought several skeins of sock yarn to add to my stash, with visions of perfectly matched pairs of cabled or lacy hand knit socks dancing in my head. The irony of this was, despite being cold of foot, until this week I didn't yet actually KNOW how to knit socks, and though I had tried to understand the method, had yet to see a whole sock through to the toe.

For some reason, the double-pointed needles and I just don't seem to get along. I could never get further than the obligatory leg tube before losing patience with laddered stitches at the joins that offended me so. I usually knit at a very loose gauge, but on the tiny needles I found myself gripping the working yarn so tightly that it often broke. At this point knitting was more extended torture than the relaxed and joyful activity I was used to.

I decided that a careful study of the mechanics of sock-making was in order, and during this study, which actually wasn't a study, really, but more of a concentrated googling, I learned of a technique that allowed the sock maker to use two circular needles instead of the double-pointed ones. After reading comments from many other knitters, I realized that Cat Bordhi's book Socks Soar on Two Circular Needles was a great resource on this technique, and I picked up my own copy. Mechanically, I understood the technique in just a few minutes.

I quickly decided to embark on an experiment in engineering, following the directions and making notes as to what about the technique needed to change for the truly left-handed knitter. I inquired on an Internet group I belong to if anyone had attempted the socks-on-2-circulars approach, and if they had had to make any modifications for handedness while working with this technique. Someone wrote me back and said that she had used the book, but had "reversed all the directions."

My plan was to create a giant sock using worsted weight wool on two circular needles, size 5, so that I could learn the technique, but more importantly, so that I could see exactly what I was doing. My first attempt at a heel turn yielded a heel that turned to the inside of the sock; I decided it was Cubist, at once inside out and outside in.

My second attempt yielded a heel on the outside where it should be, but with improperly chained stitches along the heel flap. At the point where I thought there must certainly be an error in the pattern, I couldn't possibly be supposed to

By my third attempt at a sock, I discovered that what I needed to do was simple: FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS. Because the sock is essentially a circle, who cares which way you go around it, as long as you put the ribbing in the right place, and decrease symmetrically on either side for the gusset? My misplaced purl bumps on the sides of the heel flap were merely the results of over thinking. So today I’m further along on my giant sock than I have been on any sock before. And I am pleased to report that I think tonight I will be finishing up the toe, and I think at that point it will be time for a picture.

I'm a true left-handed knitter, and I refuse to knit otherwise. I'm hoping that this space on the web can grow beyond being just a chronicle of my own progress in learning the mechanics and methods of lefty knitting, into an online resource centered about help for true left-handed knitters who may be confronting many of the same conundrums that I am.

If you are a left-handed knitter, I'm sure that you have heard a lot from right-handed knitters about how you should try to correct your "backwards" ways. Perhaps someone has said to you "Oh, it's a right handed world, so you might as well get used to it and learn to knit the right way." Or "Can't you just hold the book up to the mirror and follow the directions in reverse?" Or the sadistic "Why don't you just rewrite the whole pattern with the directions in reverse?" Or possibly, "Why don't you just knit Continental, it's the same as left-handed."

I've tried knitting righty, and the results left me slightly nauseated and with a lapful of dropped stitches. For some of us, it just doesn't work; the brain to hand connection that should allow us to move our stitches fluidly from the left needle to the right just...isn't. When I looked for resources to help me determine what it is about knitting lefty that makes reversing instructions appropriate in some cases, but not appropriate in other cases, beyond Regina Hurlburt's book Left-Handed Knitting, there was no definitive source. I want to understand the "why" behind lefty knitting, and understand it well enough to explain it to others.

I don't pretend to know everything about knitting. In fact, I know very little, and I believe that there's always something to be learned. My knitting journey isn't really about the final product, but more about the path I take to get there, learning from my mistakes as I go. I am in every sense of the word a process knitter. I'm more concerned with getting the method or the technique down than I am with making sure every stitch is exactly the same size as its neighbor. My goal is to know enough that I can design patterns written in 'leftycode' for lefties, and also explain to other lefties the how and the why behind the lefty way.

I make lots of mistakes which often lead to much frogging or tinking, along with the requisite cussing and gnashing of teeth, or sometimes throwing the knitting needles in the direction of the nearest cat. But I'm hoping that if I can make mistakes in this public forum that it might help other left-handed knitters out there having similar problems, and that they'll share their mistakes with me so that I can learn from them also.