Farewell to the Red Earls

As I expected, I needed to pull yarn from the first sock to finish the second and then rip back another inch and redo it in ribbing to get the socks the same length. They finished a tad shorter than I would have preferred, but I'd like to hold off on getting any more yarn until I have some feedback on the wearability. Initial reports say the first pair are in heavy rotation and holding up better than the commercial wool socks that were also new at Christmas.


I'm also eager to see if there are any differences in the various constructions after wearing- in three pairs of socks, I have done three toes (kitchenered, and two toe-up configurations with nylon reinforcement) and three heels (top down with flap and heel stitch, short row heel and toe up with a heel flap, also with a heel stitch).


However, I don't see any way to improve on the yarn utilization. I came pretty close to using it all- this was what was left:


So now the question is, what next? I'm seriously tempted by the thought of more socks. I have two pairs left in queue- the fan lace socks I've already started, and the ball of sock yarn I got at Webs. However, I think I need to make some headway on the cardigan. That one has a deadline, after all. So- sweater at home and fan lace socks for a small project to take with me when I might need to wait somewhere.

A Perfect World

In a perfect world, I would not have come down with an annoying head cold just before the weekend.

In a perfect world, said weekend would not have been entirely eaten by a work project (with a short break Sunday for visiting with family).

In a perfect world, I wouldn't have gotten two inches into the second Red Earl sock and discovered that (unlike the first sock) my left hand twists did not twist left, but instead were copycatting the right hand twists, which were pointed in the right direction. I hate it when that happens. (I fixed it. I have this unreasonable idea that the second sock should match the first one. Weird, I know.)

Despite the manifest imperfection of the universe, there was some progress made:

You'll note that I haven't bound off the first sock. That's so if (when) I run out of yarn, I can just pick up the tail end, knit (pulling yarn from the first sock) until they're both the same length. If that happens, I'll have to reknit a bit of ribbing, but it's a small price to pay for the satisfaction of using *all* the yarn.

And in other positive things, I was comforted in my affliction (this is the lapside view):


There was also a great deal of Mexican food (purely therapeutic, I assure you). And tomorrow the weather is expected to be crappy, with a side order of extra crappy. So I'm thinking that either a) it won't be that bad, and my plans to go to karate practice will be executed on schedule or b) it will be a good evening to blow off karate and spend knitting, reading and sewing drape.

In the absence of perfection, I'm trying to cultivate a glass-half-full attitude.

Tea with the Red Earl

So, having turned the heel on these socks, I've finally gotten to the interesting patterny bits.


Remember, these were deliberately chosen as travel knitting, and yet I didn't want to make something totally plain. Also, while my brother-in-law Tim is a pretty laid-back kind of guy, I didn't want anything too girly (he refers to his wood shop as the Man-Cave, okay?), or more importantly with a lot of YOs that would make the socks less warm than they ought to be. We live in New Hampshire- warm comes first, pretty second.

So in choosing a pattern, it was natural to look to our neighbors to the north, and borrow the Yarn Harlot's charming pattern for Earl Grey socks. I love the little teensy cables, and executed in Tim's favorite dashing red, I thought they would be quite stunning.

But when I got going, I discovered I needed to make a few changes. Because I'm trying to use up as much of the yarn as possible, I decided to knit them toe up instead of top down. And I was knitting these in the car, and didn't print the pictures out with the pattern, so I had to kind of improvise from memory the cabling down the foot. And I was still away from a computer when I got to the top of the gusset, and I had no recollection whatsoever what the transition from foot to the cable panel on the leg looked like. So I just winged it.

I wish I could say knitting the sock with a heel flap was part of some brilliant master plan to compare different heel constructions. But actually, I just happened to have flipped open my book of sock patterns to remind myself of heel proportions and that was the one I happened to get. (I may have to do my next set of socks with an afterthought heel, just so I can collect the whole set.)

We're going to pass lightly over the part where I ripped out the first heel attempt because I was convinced despite the evidence of the pattern in front of me that I was doing a short-row heel. (Peach herbal tea. Really. You were wondering what I was drinking at the time, right? Honestly, if you're sufficiently under-slept, alcohol is superfluous.) We're also going to refrain from speculating as to whether I'll be able to duplicate this piece of seat-of-the-pants knitting on a second sock (why borrow trouble, I ask?).

So, really, the little cable panel up the side is the only true Earl piece I haven't mucked with. But I think that Stephanie, of all people, would understand.