Holding my Breath

So right after I cast on for Paper Crane and knit something like five rows, I decided I wanted to clear the decks of some lingering works-in-progress. So Paper Crane went back in the bag and out came Virve's Stockings. I wanted to finish these so I could start a pair of socks for my friend Marie, who's spending a few years in Germany.

So I pulled out the socks and knit and knit and knit and knit (they're knee socks, after all), and then had a little bit of fun at the colorwork panel. Then it was back to knitting and knitting and knitting. At some point mid-gusset, I began to wonder whether I would have enough of the dark blue yarn to finish the socks. I did a contrast color toe on the first sock precisely because I was worried about this possibility. I weighed the yarn I had left. 18 grams. Would that be enough to knit all the way down the foot to the start of the toe?


Juuuuusssst made it. What you see in the picture above is not the tail I cut to weave in; that's ALL the yarn I had left. I finished by a hair.



Love them! They should be nice and warm in 6 months or so when I need them. Stats: Pattern: Virve's Stockings, from Folk Knitting in Estonia. Yarns used: Wollmeise Twin in Moses (main color), Natur, Mistelszweig, and Jeton. Modifications: Did three repeats of lace motif at top cuff instead of two, did contrast color toe, slightly modified heel flap and gusset.

With those off the needles, I pulled out a skein of Bugga that I had earmarked to use for Marie's socks, picked a pattern and started knitting.

Now, I've managed to acquire a few skeins of Bugga, but I hadn't knit with it yet. It. Is. Heavenly. It's so soft (20% cashmere), but springy and lively, with wonderful stitch definition. I'm totally smitten. I'm going to have a hard time sending these socks off to Marie, so it's a good thing that her feet are a different size than mine.


The pattern is Nutkin, which is astoundingly easy but produces a very pretty result.

I finally finished Parrot and Olivier in America the other night. I really enjoyed this book, although Mr. T put it down quickly, saying it was too much work. I thought it was really funny, but not funny in a laugh out loud Terry Pratchett kind of way. It was more of a dry, sarcastic funny. A Robertson Davies or P.G. Wodehouse kind of funny. It was a love letter to America and all its faults in the end.

I intended to start the 3rd book in Stieg Larsson's Millenium trilogy, but I haven't gotten around to it. The Summer Fiction issue of the New Yorker arrived, focusing on their picks of notable authors under 40, including some of my absolute favorites, so I expect my nose will be stuck in there for a while before I start a new book.

Summer is slowly descending upon us. Team tennis is over. Baseball is over. We can sleep in on weekends instead of getting up and rushing off to activities. I'm ready.

But I was sad about the end of our baseball season. Our scrappy little team was the third seed in the playoffs, but we lost our first game. By one run. And poor little Jr. Jr. was the last out. He's one of the most reliable players on the team, both in the field and at bat, but a few bad calls and a few ill-advised swings and he struck out. Poor kid cried and cried, because he wanted to help his team win. Nonetheless, the team had a great season. They played well, and they played well together, which is the most important thing.

Two more weeks of school left, so I need to take advantage of it, in between the end of year parties that they cram in there!