These are the bits (or pieces) of my Heather Sweater, ready for assembly. I’m unsure about the sleeve caps, but it will be easy enough to alter them if needed. Tomorrow I will start constructing the garment and, I hope, get a move on with the neckband which I’m considering crocheting. The pattern calls for this piece to be knitted separately as a long ribbon of knitting and then attached to the jumper which is not my preferred method. I’ve been round the v-neck block a few times and I’m totally capable of working the neckband in a “knitted on” method, picking up stitches around the neckline, but the crochet idea is calling to me; I think it will make a nice neat edge where the neckline is set into the lace pattern.
Returning to the subject of fit, I have another small project which has popped onto my radar in the past couple of days and that is to unpick and re-make the Rise of the Jellyfish socks. I knew when I finished them that they weren’t the right size, in fact they were two completely different incorrect sizes! Yet I didn’t have the heart to do anything about it, and I thought “They’ll do. I’ll wear them around the house,” and promptly put them away until autumn. Now the warm weather has departed and I have worn them a couple of times, but the fact is that they need to be right and they’re not. Do you ever have projects like that? I’m sure I can’t be the only one.
When I re-knit them, I shall do them in a knit 3, purl 1 rib so they have a little more stretch than a basic stocking stitch sock. This is how I knit the Nuclear Sunrise socks and I am happy with those. On the whole, I find that basic stocking stitch is good with finer sock yarns, but the thicker ones need a rib patterning to make me happy. The fact that both socks are too big for me will work in my favour as I won’t have to worry about running out of wool.
The skies are grey today, in that November way they have where they can’t even be bothered to produce any rain, just linger around looking dull. And yet, when you study them, the clouds are not all the same shade of grey, and behind them there is a promise of lighter sky. The grey is a transitory thing, slowly moving from west to east, threading its way from my home to the sea, 20 miles distant, and so off to other lands. As my mum was fond of saying, nothing lasts for ever. It will be brighter tomorrow, they promise, and if it’s not, then we won’t let that bother us.
How is your week shaping up? Any projects coming together, or falling apart?