Having already made Gregory a blanket, my next task was to craft up some house socks for him. His current pair were worn to holeyness and ready to be replaced.
I dread the idea of working on super-fiddly projects, so I opted to go for a pair of crocheted socks using worsted weight yarn. Cotton, in my case, because acrylic on your feet would be for the birds. The main sock is black, and the heel is brown, despite Greg’s worrying singing of “Black Socks“. Plus, cotton crochets quite beautifully–no fuzz means the pattern shows very well.
The heel was disturbingly confusing to me, quite possibly because I had a raging sinus headache at the time. Once I realized that the sock as I’d been working it was inside out and I played around with how the heel would unfold, everything made sense. There were only about 7 stiches that closed up the heel, so it was totally worth stitching and unstitching to make sure I understood what would happen.
We shan’t talk about the extra stitches in the body of the sock I had to swallow up shortly therafter, though.
It went really fast, which is nice. One more gaming session, and the second sock should be done. More satisfying than a dice bag (cute though that one is), less agonizing than a blanket, even a piecemeal one.
The addition of a new afghan pattern book to my (now 4-book) library means that I’ll soon have more pretty things to give away.
In a desperate crush this weekend, I finished Greg’s blanket. It wasn’t that I was four months late finishing it, it was that I was so. tired. of basketweave.
If I had to do one more damn repeat, I was probably going to put the thing on hiatus, silly as that would have been.
The finished product is long enough for Greg to stretch out and pretend to sleep under:
Unfortunately, I have some of the eggplant yarn left. Anyone need a dice bag? If I can find a good contrasting color in my stash, I’ll probably do at least one of these.
I spend a half hour or so on Sunday night completely frogging (unraveling) my brown blanket and starting up again. I swear, the first row of crocheting (crocheting into the chain) is the worst and most fiddly. Plus, it was a 196 stitch chain, so that first row took forever. That’s wider than my arm span–this thing is going to be a blanket, not a throw.
Since then, though, it’s been smooth sailing; all the stitching is consistent (for me), my color and ball changes are proper, and I friggin’ know what stitch I’m doing.
Way back on my bir’day, Scott bought me some fancypants yarn that I started working into a wavy scarf. Seven months, 5.5 feet of unstretched scarf (and most of a blanket and two dice bags…) later, I have a scarf, currently blocked out on my roommate’s floor.
Hey, he wasn’t there at the time. Not my fault he came home that night after I went to bed.
I’m not keeping the scarf–it’s going to my much more colorful sister–but I’m really proud (and glad!) it’s done. Aside from the little dice bags to break up these longer projects, this is my first sizable finish since I started back knitting/crocheting last fall.
I picked up yarn for a new project myself on Saturday–an afghan to be finished by Feb 13 and begun after I finish my current afghan. Greg, being Greg, picked a pretty, soft eggplant-colored yarn for the blanket, and it’s going to be beautiful. I’ll have to relearn how to knit for that and the wavy scarf I’m doing with the fancypants yarn.
I haven’t been a heavy crocheter since shortly after I left teaching in early 2008, but way back then, I started a blanket. It’s a gorgeous design, and I picked the colors based on the decor of a friend’s house. I don’t keep up with him anymore–and he’s married, so no telling what his house is like these days–but I still love the blanket. It’s wide: wider than 6 feet, which makes doing each row a painfully long endeavor.
My favorite times to crochet (and knit, whatever) are when I’m watching television or on long car rides. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I’ve been wrapped up in a lot of computer-based volunteer work, which means my television time is spent on my netbook. In cleaning out my former office for our upcoming roommate, though, I tidied up all my yarn. I found the 10 skeins of midnight blue yarn for the cable-knit afghan I was going to make my father (I didn’t end up with very usable cable needles, alas), the little purple baby blanket that only needs about 5 repeats of its purl/knit checkered pattern to be done, and all my thick wool squares (presumably to be quilted into an afghan).