The first months combo of my self-imposed sock club. 

Yarn: Handkraft "The sock who loved me" in Mangrove (70% Merino, 30% silk. Yummy.)  Pattern: Sleepy Hollow.

Verdict:  I love these socks.  Love them. 

I love the stripes up the backs of the legs (probably a throwback to some bizarre stocking seam association I’m making) and I love – no, not love… I am deeply satisfied by the heel.

This sock is knit from the top down, and when you get to the time for the heel, you begin to work it in the traditional slipped stitch pattern, but you don’t work it by itself, back and forth. 

Instead you keep working in lovely fulfilling rounds, increasing for the gussets as you go.  When the whole business is the right length and size, you work a short row turn, then work back and forth, uniting and consuming the gusset stitches into the heel and sole.  After a little, when you have the right number of stitches, you increase as you consume… so that stitch count stays constant. 

The result is a nice fitting heel, but as is so often the point in knitting… that’s not it’s charm.

The charm is, somehow – that the resulting heel is charmingly foot shaped, and almost seems fitted.  Narrow where heels are, wider where the foot is. I’m thrillingly enchanted.  It’s like matching increases or a perfect bobble, or bang on symmetry in a paired decrease.  The attention to detail is just.  Well.  It’s sexy. 

And no.  I don’t mind that I’ve said that about a sock.  I bet you think it’s hot too.

Just poking my head up to assure you all that I’m fine.  I sort of like the way that if the blog goes dark for a few days, the emails start coming to make sure I’m okay.  It makes me feel like if I’d ever fallen and couldn’t get up that I wouldn’t be eaten by my cat before my body was discovered.  (I know that realistically I would be found by my family long before that happened, but apparently I was really shaped by one bad episode of Law and Order. Note to self. Maybe not watch that show.)  All is well here, though I’m trying to power through family stuff to ready myself and them for some away/ teaching/ talking/ time. 

(Insert imaginary picture here, which would be a grand one were it possible to get it off my camera, which it isn’t because the cable that I deliberately put on my desk to make sure this never happened again is missing, which I’m sure is not the fault of anyone who lives here except me, because nobody who lives here is the sort of person who would ever, ever, ever touch another persons stuff.  Except maybe a lipstick. Or a book. Or mascara, or a black tank top, or that skirt.  Or a bag.  Never.)

I did finish my socks.  I did start more.  I did forgive myself for not finishing my January socks until February 2nd. Breaking a self imposed knitting rule is still not a federal offense, so I’m letting go. Tomorrow when there’s a photo assistant available I’ll take some pictures for you, and until then all I have time to say is that the Sleepy Hollow socks have a dead sexy heel turn and gusset increase/decrease  combo that I hope thrills you the way it did me. 

(Note: if you’re a non-knitter, don’t even try to understand that last sentence.)