Someone asked about the sash I knit for my highlander outfit. It is knit in Peruvian Tweed alpaca and Blue Moon mohair miniloop boucle (Olive garden is the color). Size 10.5 needles, K10, P10 rib for 90 stitches and 8 feet. (I think the whole thing cost about $70 for materials.) 1 skein each, lots of yardage on both. I still have enough yarn left to knit a scarf out of the same.
Looking for a cool pattern for mittens, fingerless or not, to make as a xmas gift. I'm not liking much of what I am finding so far on the net.
Oh... men's size med.
Hope you all are well!
OK, guys, someone here probably has the answer or a pointer to it. I normally knit socks with DPs or using two circulars. I knit from the cuff down because I don't like the way heels come out on toe-up socks.
I know it is possible to knit both socks in the pair at once using various techniques. Double knitting, where you do one sock inside the other on either DPs or two circs or even one circ (not-so-magic loop method) has intellectual appeal like a magic trick but seems unnecessarily complex and risky. It seems to me that you should be able to just work two socks in parallel on the circulars, using two balls of yarn. Knit across half of one, change yarn and knit across the other. Lather, rinse, repeat. Might get a bit tricksy at the heel, I guess, but should still work.
Has anyone tried this? Or can you point to a tutorial on the web that shows it with drawings or photos? With or without that, I'm about to embark on the experiment I think. I know that no one ever notices if there's an extra row or two in the cuff or foot, but I know it's there and it bugs me. This should prevent that, and produce matching stripes in self-striping yarn too....
Chris and I just got back from an *amazing* vacation. He won an RSVP vacation through an online sweepstakes - a week-long cruise to the Mexican Riviera. It was a total blast. This is me, getting ready to parasail on the beach at Mazatlan.
Knitting-wise, I took a teddy bear project with me. I got a little over half of the pieces done in the airport and on the plane - I have the head pieces, ears, soles of the feet, and body front; I need to do the body back, arms and legs, and make it up. I will have photos of that once it's put together. I'm making it with one strand of Lion Brand suede and one brand of their Tiffany eyelash held together; it makes a dense fabric with a really soft wispy nap. This will be a present for one of my neices or nephews; haven't quite decided which kid gets which bear yet.
More photos from the cruise on my journal: http://oakenking.livejournal.com
The river is quite massive now. Only a small % of the squares have been sew together. I can't wait til it's all finished and the squares are all sewn up!
All this talk about the Monmouth cap has had me reading up on it a bit and I got interested in some of the little details, especially after noticing in this example that there are some apparent increases/decreases in the hem to make the brim a bit wider and the brim where the hem turns is clearly more than just a simple purl row, though it's not clear if the hem was knit to the outer edge & the two sides cast off together or if there might be something else going on.
So I posted a query to the glb-knit listserv, primarily to see if Sarah Bradberry had any more to offer, but also to see if anyone else there might know more. Sarah suggests that the brim might be some sort of braided slip stitch turning row. She's also hinted that she's playing around with fulling, which was done with the original caps, and might have something about it in the rewrite of her hat book, which she's working on.
I was caught knitting at work today, bored out of my mind, catching glances from customers and coworkers alike as I did my best to pass time. Someone finally asked how long I had been knitting and how I learned. Three years ago I passed a J. Crew window display with the most beautiful sweater I had ever seen, but was dmaned back to reality by the $300 price tag. I was first depressed that my financial situation was so crappy that I couldn't be worthy of having nice things. ("Quality and Expensive are neither the same nor better than one another," my grandmother used to say). Then I grew irritated and pissy that I couldn't have THAT sweater. That irritaton grew into an aggressive stomp to the nearest bookstore where I picked up a copy of "The Idiots Guide to Knitting." From there I went to Joann's and got myself on the mailing list and with each coupon I received, I'd purchase one skien of cashmere. Within 6 weeks I had that sweater, made myself and looking every bit better than the one in the window. The action of knitting is one that can lend you into an active contemplation, where the body and mind are quietly seperated into an almost meditative state. But, even more than this moment of frozen suspension of the world around me, I have found that I have learned tolerance (from patterns poorly written), patience (from mistakes made in haste), and the absolute art of self reliance.