S.S.S.

I'm not sending out a sloppy S.O.S. there, although I think I do need help.  Yesterday I attempted to start the dreaded "second sock."  I'm not certain that I am suffering from Second Sock Syndrome, but my lack of productivity would make you think that! 

I started the first sock a few weeks ago and have plodded along peacefully since.  There was a rough start to the sock.  I was learning a new cast on method for constructing toe-up socks, and while I really enjoyed the cast on technique "things" kept happening.  

The first time through produced uneven stitches because I was working from a book that had a picture for one of the wraps on one page and the second wrap on the next.  The first time I attempted this toe entailed wrapping from the index finger, pinching the needles in my left hand while I turned the page with the right, taking the needles back in my right while studying the picture and reading the text, then wrapping from the thumb (yay... two stitches), pinching the needles in the left hand while turning the page back with the right, you get the idea.  I eventually had a sloppy mess of the correct number of stitches.  I pulled my needles and tried again.  Maybe I should just practice a few more times.

Finally it was time, but the hypnotic rhythm that comes from "getting" a cast on technique provided far too many stitches.  I dropped off until I had the correct number of stitches on the needles and they looked quite even.  Only after I turned the beginnings of the toe and attempted to work the first round did I realize that the notation "must be done on circular" was an attempt to help and not an outright challenge to my abilities.  I didn't have a long enough circular needle on me!  I stared down at the two DPNs lovingly wrapped with colorful yarn.  "Well, while I'm here I might as well try," came the ingenious thought from somewhere in the creative side of my brain.  Too bad the other half wasn't so capable.  I stabbed away at the first stitch and knitted happily.  Perhaps it would turn out alright.  Soon I had two stitches, three, and then failure.  I was working across the top needle while the bottom needle's stitches held on precariously until my confidence was at its apex then, like lemmings, they all jumped.

I lie, I did have a circular on me but it was only nine inches long.  Still, needs must when the devil drives, actually that's another lie as I would do anything anytime for the sake of experimentation in knitting.

I smoothly wrapped half the stitches on one DPN while I wound the other half on the nubby circular needle; I was becoming quite adept at this starting technique.  Pulling the circular needle so that half the toe stitches rested on the cable I took up another DPN and knitted off the stitches from the first DPN.  Worked like a dream.  Then I worked off the stitches from the circular onto the first DPN.  I was on a roll and there was now wiggle room to be able to switch, all be it precariously, to four DPNs.  (I wonder now if I could do the whole technique on four DPNs but I digress because I will not need it for this set of socks.)

Away I knitted in pattern; increase row after knit row, the yarn delightfully spooled from the ball quicker and quicker.  A series of mellow stripes appeared row after row and soon the toe was left behind to be, apparently, forgotten.

Three weeks later I made it near enough to the cuff and set aside the first creation, my intent was to work the next sock to the same spot and then keep working up the leg until I’d used up all the yarn.  It was now time for the "second sock," (from somewhere offstage sounds ominous music).

I long ago accepted that the two socks of a pair didn't have to be exactly the same.  I have come completely to terms with this idea and often intentionally make the second sock a different pattern or contrasting color combination altogether.  That said I should also state that this occurred from my first pair of socks and to date I have only made two matching pairs of socks, both a gift to the same person.  Somewhere in that creative side of the mind it was decided that there were just too many sock patterns out there to not try a different one for each sock.  The other half of the brain happily accepted the challenge.  

Despite the fact that they are often used in unison, a sock stands as a complete project.  From cast on to bind off and everything in the middle a sock alone serves its intended purpose but it's a sad solitary life to do so alone.  Many techniques have been developed to help avoid Second Sock Syndrome.  I love to make socks though so I shouldn't have any trouble dialing back the creativity for a few weeks and make a sock to match the one that I had just completed.  This brings me to my second toe.  

Happily I picked up my needles (did I say "needles"?) and started again.  I wrapped and wrapped in the intended technique but all I did was weave the yarn around the two DPNs (yes, I'll get to that).  Again I tried and still not quite right.  So I dabbled with the yarn and needles until I eventually figured it out.  Just to be safe I eventually found my cast on directions and flipping back and forth from page to page I was confident that I had a great start to my “second sock.”  I picked up another DPN and knitted off a stitch, then a second, then a third and a vague memory came flooding back to me.  Eventually I had the right number of stitches in the right style on the right needle (this time one long circular) and off I went on making the toe, increasing every other row until I had 68 stitches.

Two rows of increase later and I had a mess.  I turned my brain off prematurely.  Instead of increasing on the sides as was the stated production of a toe, I increased every other stitch.  I looked at my very strange mass of stitches and silently withdrew the needle.  

The toe is currently working up beautifully.  However, upon waking up this morning I realized something, if I want these two socks to match then I probably need to pull from the same direction on the ball of yarn (it's variegated), start at the same point in the colorway (did I mention variegation?), and try to stick as close to the pattern as possible.  That does take in to account that I actually tried very hard to stick as close to the pattern as possible with the first one.  That also means finishing the first sock completely and not leaving the cuffs to last to use up every last scrap of yarn that I have for the socks.  Maybe I do need to send out an S.O.S.  

Well, at least I know how to do the toe, or perhaps I should try to cast on with four needles this time.  Now where did I put those DPNs?