By the power of Grayskull...I WILL KNIT THIS SWEATER!

"I WILL knit the perfect sweater! I WILL! I SHALL!" 

I have made a pledge to knit my boyfriend Bill the "perfect sweater," and while the thought of perfectly executing (or the attempt at least) is very appealing to me, apparently miles of stockinette stitch are not. 

Although I enthusiastically purchased the pattern and the yarn, I am finding it hard to make it to that crucial juncture where it gets interesting (e.g. color work begins, you change fibers, it's time to shape the waist, divide the front and back, etc).  This is entirely my fault (the sweater nestled right next to my coffee table right now).

I've also made the decision to knit both of the sleeves at the same time on the same circular needles. This decision was really less of a decision and more of a realization. I'm pretty sure Bill is sick of hearing me whine "I HATE knitting this sleeve...I HATE IT!" when I've started the second sleeve (see here for my dramatics of knitting a 2nd anything). 

To make it through the tedium (that I've chosen) that is knitting the body of a bottom-up, primarily stockinette sweater, I tend to make up weird little games and stories to keep it interesting. I'll invent a villain who whose evil plans would be ruined if the body reaches 13": "Drat!" my imaginary 80's cartoon villain will cry, "I never dreamed you'd escape my evil clutches!" Or I'll place a bet, challenging myself to reach a certain number of rounds or inches before a certain time, or before a Bill does something predictable like showering or telling me about some cringe-worthy post he saw on reddit. 

And then of course there is regular method of getting through that stockinette desert: knitting and watching tv at the same time. I know this might sound like the most boring and depressing Saturday afternoon ever, but I promise it doesn't if you are truly a compulsive or dedicated knitter (or are grieving, pregnant, or just kind of want to be still). I love knitting, so judge me if you will. But, if someone were to tell me that's how they spent their day (watching tv and knitting), I'd like to think I'd reply with a genuine "Being completely still and knitting? That sounds like heaven."

I've seen people (and by people I mean fully grown adult males) bring knitting to live music events (and I'm talking LOUD AND ABRASIVE music), so knitting is cool, and don't tell me that you don't love that cowl I made you. 

ANYWAY, I usually combine my weird nerdy little game with compelling tv or horror movies (nervous hands=faster knitting...as long as your knitting doesn't tighten up when you get scared!). I find that the very best tv/movies for the purposes of getting a lot of stockinette mileage are tv/movies with subtitles. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm probably telling myself that watching tv isn't as bad if you're also reading (and then I probably pat myself on the back, feeling victorious that I can accomplish so many stationary tasks simultaneously). 

So here I am, about to strap myself in to another session of media/yarn consumption, trying to effortlessly create a perfect sweater, and I can't help but think that all of this multi-tasking and game-playing is all in the pursuit of some kind of perfection.  But ultimately nothing, particularly not a hand-knitted garment, is perfect (even samples can have their quirks); and nobody can be a superhero all of the time. I guess all we can do is enjoy the projects that we take on, and know that if ennui sets in, we can always count on our own weirdness and creativity to make something monotonous into a battle cry: "By the power of Grayskull" indeed. 

"TOE-UP!" (Or: my current obsession with 2-at-a-time toe-up SOCKS)

Bill looked up from his desk with a curious and surprised look on his face. "What's 'tore-up,' baby?"  "No no no!" I tried to explain excitedly,  thrusting one foot in the air to demonstrate my meaning. "Look!" I shouted, gesturing wildly at my toes (which were now wiggling). "Um...oh! Sock! It's very pretty," which is always Bill's patient response to my inability to use my words when I'm excited about knitting ("pretty!"). 

Essentially, I had knit my first "toe-up" sock, and it fit like (shall I say glove? No, I'll say SOCK), well it fit like a good sock should fit. My life had changed. I was able to modify the pattern (written for women's size 8 feet) to fit me and my needs (tiny, tiny feet, and seemingly toddler-sized ankles--well, comparatively speaking). Anyway, I had been reading about toe-up socks for about a year, but I was (and still am) so in love with Cookie A's designs, most of which are "top-down," that I thought to myself, "maybe I'm just a top-down sock knitter." 

I can modify top-down socks as well, but toe-up designs also come with the calm of knowing that you have enough yarn. 

I designed my own little toe-up socks, and knit a few pairs of knee socks in a few days. I quickly realized that I get melodramatic and melancholy when I am forced to face the I'm going to have to KNIT THAT SECOND SOCK). 

Thanks to the KnitPicks.com 40% book sale that never seems to end, I have TWO books on 2-at-a-time sock knitting...one of which has a TOE-UP focus. 

I finished a sweet little lacey pair of socks in one day thanks to this pattern ("Summer Slice" by Cassandra Dominick), which is absolutely wonderful (very detailed, step-by-step narrative, written pattern). There isn't a chart for the lace pattern, and I'm very spatial and visual, so I started to make my own in excel, but it's easy enough without one. 

I ended up with these:

See this project on my Ravelry page here

Anyway, the moral of the story is that I LOVE knitting toe-up two-at-a-time socks! So quick! So genius! Hooray!

...A very good place to start

To anyone reading this,

Oh hello. I'm Leah (pronounced "Leee"), and this is the place where I'm going to write about the RIVETING art of KNITTING. My awesome sister (Alexis Goldstein) calls what I do "textile hacking," which I suppose is true for anyone who modifies, designs or creates knit wear. 

Anyway, I love knitting. I love learning about knitting. I've learned so much in the past year, and I hope to increase my skills through writing about projects. 

So with that said...here we go!

~Leah