Here is the second pair, created entirely from leftover yarn, for the son of a friend. And here is the #tuffsock version recently finished and sent on its way to a happy new home where I thought it would be welcomed in all its wonky glory…
I used to be amazed to realise that other folks could tell the difference between madder and eucalypt dyes just by looking from them. I have recently realised that now I can too (or, at least sometimes).
Some time back, I dyed the last of my Tonne of Wool Tasmanian cormo handspun yarn. It is soooo soft I decided to make for the grandbub with it.
And with little knits, there just isn’t a long story to tell! This person now has an 11 cm long foot, bless her. These are the Baby-Hausschuhe from Ines Sttrickt (available for free, and in several languages).
I have now received a video of the grandbub rolling around on the floor with these on her little feet. And I get calls with narration sometimes, like “now she is throwing them in the air”… “now she is banging them together” and “sometimes they stay on for hours!”
Remember the sock kits I made? Here’s the first one. Something about the rambunctious glory of these leftovers made my fingers tingle, so I just made a start and…
I have been knitting through Zoom events where I’m not taking minutes or some other central role… I admit I am surprised to find that I am watching very little TV in this period.
And the other sock…
These are going to their new happy home tomorrow on the return trip of the person who delivers vegetables from our friends’ organic market garden. They will have some company on their trip… Felted Clogs, from the Knitted Slipper Book By Katie Startzman.
The latest tuffsocks are done. I am spending hours on Zoom at present and it’s great knitting time. I’ve knit these for India Flint, and I had to giggle when I was knitting these while watching one of her online classes, some weeks back. She has a new class all about string making, one of my pleasures in life (and things to do with string). For those who can afford an online class–India is one of the enormous number of folk losing their work at this time and I am sure she would appreciate your support. If you read this blog there is an excellent chance you would love her classes. For those also facing loss of income, or just not able to afford it–there are some lovely free items at the link above too, including a grounding meditation you might enjoy if it’s not too calm at your place right now.
Here they are, finished.
Kangaroo Island “black” merino lamb, dyed with eucalyptus scoparia. And the by-now familiar calf shaping move for inside-boot wear.
The reinforced heel. Silk and cotton blend thread for reinforcement.
Feet knit with Ryeland from Victoria, dyed with walnut hulls. Why did I not reinforce the toe? Mysteries in sock knitting (in other words–I have no idea what I was thinking)! There were a LOT of walnuts from friends who have moved to a house with a huge, beautiful tree. This is the result of my dyeing effort.
Here’s hoping they will warm and cheer India in the winter that is coming under such complicated circumstances.
Are you ready to think about something else? I recommend the EarthHand Gleaners’ Society. They have an entire YouTube channel of awesomeness and storytelling from Canada. The most recent post is Sharon Kallis pitching their central question: ‘how can we be makers without first being consumers?’ and beginning a project of engaging with people who can’t leave home, around what they can make with things that are already in their homes and gardens. It’s quite delightful! She is asking for people to be in touch and tell her what they have to work with so she can help people problem solve what they might like to make. The rest of the channel is full of beautifully produced little films. This one is Sharon Kallis using what she has in her own home and creating her own video, so it has a lovely DIY vibe that is quite different. Maybe you’d like to participate? Her book is just so wonderful, I think this will be fun and include small people and parents beautifully.
Sometimes it seems there is some kind of barrier to commencing a project. I got myself over a hump of not knitting slippers while quite a few people wished I would recently–and I did it by making all the decisions on one day, and starting the next. I gathered wool leftovers in about the right quantities, bagged them up, located needles and pattern, found stitch marker and darning needle… and while I was there, made 4 kits, each in its own bag. This decisively tipped the balance away from other activities and toward slipper knitting in the evening, and slippers are still piling up as a result.
Yesterday my covid 19-best informed and most rigorous friend essentially made the case for my shutting the gate and not going out at all from here on for some time. This is a contribution we can make, she said. We do not need to go out, and we can make sure we are not cases clogging up very much needed health care resources, and nor are we vectors for the virus to spread. Protecting the health care system (and need I say, health care workers, some of whom I am glad to have as friends) is a crucial goal at this time. And I won’t share all else that she said, bracing as it was.
That took some processing, but made complete sense, which is more than can be said for some of our government’s actions. Yesterday was a day on which 1000 people died in Italy alone, in a single day. Also the day I first heard that this virus has reached the Gaza strip. And on which news of lockdown in India reached me. Others face much larger challenges than I do. So I’m sitting with that decision, that has already been made by, or enforced on, so many others already. And I finished a sock.
And I thought, maybe I should make sock kits as well as slipper kits–because I do not own even one single ball of sock yarn anymore, and hours of spinning will be required to create one. I’m sure it will happen. But for now–sock kits that will mean I have simple knitting for all those Zoom meetings and calls. Knitting for long phone calls, maybe, sometimes. And for whatever other situation calls for sock knitting as a reassuring, soothing, fidget-managing, pleasurable activity.
Tough realities lie ahead. And if having a sock ready to go helps me manage them better–that would be a good thing. Anything that helps with rising above, is to be welcomed at a time of global crisis.
I feel sure there are many such stories out there. If you wish to share yours, please do!
For those interested in using up scraps, I have found the series #yearofthescrap at The Craft Sessions blog enchanting. I can only aspire to creating such beautifully designed gloriousness from scraps. I can’t bring myself to care enough to thoughtfully design, rip and design again. And regular readers know, I’m more likely to just charge in and make stuff. For me that works out! But for those who feel differently, or perhaps aspire to better designed scrap projects, or simply seek inspiration for their stash busting hopes–please do wander over.
And–I am thinking it might be good to share resources for when you want to think about something else. When you can’t turn the radio on and hear more about the pandemic. When you can hear your own anxiety about climate change keening alongside the anxiety about the virus. And so forth. Last night I watched Inhabit. It is now available for free–though of course, donate if you are able. It is an exquisitely beautiful film offering a permaculture perspective on preparing for the future. It showcases particular North American practitioners and projects, and it is rather wonderful viewing.
In the beginning, there was a “black” merino pet lamb. Not the finest merino in the flock, probably, but just the same. And then, three ply handspun with a high twist. Soft enough for the leg of a frankensock, I hope. That’s right, it’s not black. It just isn’t white either. Too my way of thinking, it’s oatmeal.
It grew on hot Brisbane days while we were care team for the beloved parents of my beloved (I think that is my indigo dyed dress–yes, it was THAT HOT).
It kept growing as it was carried around from here to there. This looks rather like the carpet at my parents’ house. Calf shaping happened, and then the heel–and the three ply tightly spun Ryeland leg (the Ryeland fleece was a gift from the charming and skilful Hedgerow Weaver. That ball is the kind of result I get winding a ball by hand on a nostepinne (or a wooden spoon if the occasion is really serious), by the way.
Heel reinforced by #5 (Y05) cotton and silk stitching thread from Beautiful Silks. Somehow it seems the right weight and fibre combination for the job, and it was to hand.
Obligatory public transport shot of sock #2!
Here are the soft merino wool cuffs with calf shaping…
Here are the reinforced heels…
And some wooly toes too.
And the whole sock:
I hope they’ll be tough and happy socks for when we get to sock wearing weather again.
There has been a long period with little sock knitting. My life has changed so much that the places I had found in my life to knit socks seemed to have vanished. And in all honesty, there has also been hand stitching, social media, and so forth in some of those crevices. But–things have changed! I think it was partly just asking myself why socks had stalled, and realising that I still want to be knitting socks and perhaps I’m a better person when I do!
I delved into the stash and found that I had some Noro sock yarn! There is a lot I don’t like… the fact that the only shop I can go to in person that stocks it never has a lot of choice; the knots; the fact that it’s not plied; the yarn miles; and of course, the nylon! BUT what I fun knit Noro always is. Wild colour stretches that I would never dream up. These socks actually went to the same delightful person as the Grouse coloured pair and I think they will bring her great cheer in cold winters.
Here they are gracing her table moments after I’ve grafted the second toe!! And churned out in no time flat. And with the *cough* insertion of a small amount of handspun to eke out the last of the ball! Greeted with a grin and profound surprise…
I have been knitting a lot less since I stopped having a full time paid job. It has been one of the surprises! This post was started over two months ago and yet these socks were cast off two days ago!
Why is it so? I seem more often to be in meetings where my participation is central, and they are more focused than some of the meetings in my paid job were. I travel less on public transport, and use my phone when I’m on a train to do other things–the mix of online communication in my life has changed a lot. I’m back on my bike, which has been wonderful! And–there does not seem to be a great deal of evening knitting time either. Also–there has been more hand stitching going on. None of it is bad, but a lot less socks are coming into existence.
Ironically enough, these socks were finished at a conference where I was invited to speak about having given up a university day job to organise with Extinction Rebellion–there I was, listening to conference papers and whipping through the ribbing, just as I used to do. They are going to a friend whose beloved let me know she found her woollen socks and slippers an immense comfort through last winter.
They are 100% merino, so not really #tuffsocks… but the yarn has a nice tight twist. By a miracle there was a tag in the bottom of my project bag and it said Posh Yarn Elinor, colourway Grouse. I can’t say I love the colourway , though calling it Grouse sure works! I bought this yarn from a destash and this ball made up the weight necessary for free postage. And–every colour has a place. This one has been approved by the recipient, and here they are ready for a winter that feels very distant as this continent is dominated by drought and by bushfire. I was asked to speak at an event on the Gold Coast, and the smoke from nearby fires was shocking.
In the olden days I dipped into far too much of Game of Thrones (which I personally felt was the pre-eminent depiction of rape in popular culture at the time and as rape law was my research field, I believed I needed to watch and understand). Context is everything, and there is a vast land of ice and snow within the world of GoT. However, as an Australian, I would hear the refrain “Winter is Coming” and feel a sense of wild inappropriateness. I do not dread winter. I dread summer, and I fear it more, all the time.
Planning for a six week trip, you can bet I packed knitting, socks especially! This is the story of one pair. In the first picture, a miracle has occurred: we have one night in Montpellier, France, and instead of staying downtown we stayed a long way from town (the reasons are complex but the booking has been made in advance from Australia), right near the stadium where the FIFA women’s soccer world cup is under way and our one night is the Australia v Brazil game!! My beloved is a former soccer player, so we had to go. The French couple beside us were charming. Eventually as she high fived my beloved because Australia scored, he turned to me, and said: “so she’s the soccer loving one and you’re the one who knits?” and laughed heartily when I said “You have worked it out–but how?? I was trying to keep this a secret!”
In the picture below, I’m on the train from Montpellier, France to Milan, Italy, en route to Rome. It was a big day, livened up by being mistaken for a man in the women’s toilets in two countries, three languages, three cities. Who can say exactly why this happens–but somehow we got to Rome. These socks began as a bag of somewhat orange leftover sock yarn, left over after pairs I’ve knit over the last 10 or 15 years. Apologies for the refusal of style involved here!
The second image was taken in Rome. I’d been to the Museum of the Liberation [of Rome from occupation by Nazi Germany]. It now takes up a building that was the headquarters of the SS during the occupation. A place where leaders of the resistance were imprisoned, tortured, killed or sent away to be killed. It was both educational and harrowing. I hope that under circumstances of fascism I would be part of the resistance, and I am interested in educating myself about how resistance can be undertaken, how it succeeds, how it is responded to. I wept. As I write, I am watching a documentary about the Myall Creek massacre (of First Nations Australians by white people]. Just to be clear, resistance is not just something that only happened or happens in other countries.
So after the Museo della liberazione, I found a bakery that had a buffet lunch option. I studied Italian for four years in High School in the 1970s and 1980 (! how have I become this much older?) and all I have left, even after a tune up with an online language app, is some words and some transactional communication. I decided to brave it, and through a combination of pointing, asking as nicely as I could, expressing gratitude as best I could, and the generosity of the gentleman on the other side of the counter, I ended up with this sensational plate for a very reasonable price, including a drink and fresh bread. It was the best meal I had in Rome.
These socks have gone to a friend who has told me many times she doesn’t care about colour, just use up the odds and ends! I received her mother’s knitting stash after her Mum died and I could see what a thrifty woman she was. It is not the kind of stash people on Ravelry talk about. It was only stub ends, not even one entire ball. As you can see, these socks are in no way a regular pair. On the other hand, they sure will keep my friend’s feet warm when she is out feeding rescue donkeys these chilly mornings in her gumboots. I understand she received them with chuckling I can hear in my mind! Perfect.