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?