Happiness is....

Sometimes happiness is knitted street art.

Happiness is....

Somtimes happiness is taking pictures of newly acquired yarn against a backdrop of public art

Koigu (scored it on sale!) from Sophie's Yarns in Phidelphia

Adoption

In my January wanderings and rummagings, I found something wonderful.

I found a pair of thick, hand-knit wool socks, and I adopted them for a quarter.

Boy, was I glad I had a quarter on me that day because my wallet was very empty otherwise.

I have no idea who knit them, but I was so excited to add them to my collection where they will be loved, worn, and washed in a way that will not felt them further (I can tell they've seen some love already). I doubt I will ever know who knit them, and that makes me sad. I want the knitter to know they have found a good sock drawer. They are a bit big for me in the toe, but otherwise they fit perfectly. They have already served me faithfully as I trekked through the 1+ foot of snow that fell to ring in the New Year.

pricetag

Part of me was astonished I got them for so cheap. A quarter! The price of a gumball. Less than the cost of a stamp. All the money for yarn and all that time to knit them given away for chump change. Part of me really isn't surprised at all, because I wouldn't expect anybody other than a knitter (or someone who knows a knitter who gives them lots of hand-knit socks) to recognize the telltale signs of the hand-knit technique and what that means. It makes me feel like I belong to a secret society or something.

Bottletoe

I love handknit socks. Sometimes I knit them exclusively of everything else. They are portable, provide hours of knitting time, come in endless patterns, and are delightfully functional. But I'll be darned if the kitchner stitch doesn't slow me down something awful.

Swamp socks, Tofutsies in Gentleman's socks from Nancy Bush's Vintage Socks

I think it's because so much of my sock knitting happens while I am doing other things--sitting in class, socializing, thinking about life. I mean, I'll even finish entire pair of socks and it will take me as long to get around to the kitchner stitch as it took to knit the socks in the first place!

Pictures taken back when the grass was green. Takes me even longer to blog about how long it takes me to kitchner my toes.

Kitchner stitch takes my full attention, and since I don't have it memorized I have to remember to carry around instructions. Before I got my handy dandy dog tag with the steps, I was carrying around Ann Budd's hardcover Getting Started Knitting Socks every time I had to kitchner.

Patrotic sock in a superwash yarn I cannot recall

Since I've done so many kitchners and some serious grafting on a pair of handwarmers, I'm starting to get the hang of it and have achieved a level of proficiancy where I can talk to other people while executing the stitch, but I am not yet instruction free (and therefore grateful for the dogtag that weighs so. much. less. than the book).

Until that day, my undone toes will continue to accumulate in my knitting basket and stare me down.

Can't you feel the thousand little eyes and hear the haunting cry of "Kitchner meeeeee"? No? Then nothing to see here...

Happiness is...

Sometimes happiness comes from joining a movement (even when it's joining late...)

Must Have Cardigan in Strawberry Fields