My Best Hand Knit Socks.

The comfort of knit socks in Upstate New York winters can’t be overstated.  Indeed, more than comfort, they are often a necessity.  My husband and I live in a 200-year-old hunting cabin on a dirt road far among pine forests in a snow belt in our region. 
Consequently, my love of hand-knitting socks comes in handy.  We wear these treasures about 10 months out of the year.
The types of yarn that you can use are a personal choice.  Cotton is pretty and comfortable, but becomes slouchy quickly.  Wool is great, but a store-bought pair of thin cotton socks are needed underneath for comfort.
As a novice knitter years ago, the type of yarn for a project was a worry.  Needle size, instructions, everything about a knitting project was a worry.
Experience is helpful, and I don’t worry so much about details.  As a matter of fact, craft has intermingled with art and projects have become much more interesting and fun.  Technique is important to learn, but afterward projects can morph into personal expressions of art when you’ve embraced knitting as a friend.
The mistakes are nothing more than stepping stones in the learning process, and can be the path to happy discoveries.
My husband is an auction fan, and he, in the same stepping stone manner with auction finds as are my stepping stone adventures in knitting, will come home with sometimes-baffling purchases.
Recently, he proudly wandered home with a huge box of yarn that he had purchased at auction for $1.00.  He said, for a dollar he couldn’t go wrong.  I wasn’t so sure about that.  The yarn was excellent quality wool embroidery in subtle changes of color tone in yellow, orange, brown, pink, rose, and avocado.  Apparently a New York City embroidery shop had closed down, according to the yarn wrapper information.

I’m not necessarily a wool-embroidery buff, and there wasn’t enough of each color for a sweater, even if using an intarsia pattern in knitting. 
So, with winter coming on and cold feet to cover, I decided to use this wool embroidery yarn to create Turkish socks.  Turkish socks are an easy type that starts at the toe and works easily up the foot, slipping the heel stitches onto a stitch holder as the work approaches the heel length, continuing up the leg portion of the sock after picking up a similar number of stitches to compensate for the heel stitches that are now on the holder, and binding off when the leg-length of the sock is to my liking.
I’ve purchased a Turkish sock pattern book, and it is full of intricate design patterns to be completed in the color of choice. 
The beginning of the toe can be worked per your genius.  The technique I’ve learned and love is to cast on about 6 stitches on one straight needle, and then 6 stitches on a seconds straight needle which will result in 2 straight needles, each with 6 cast ons, and snuggly hitched together.
I start at one side and begin knitting down the side,  producing 4 stitches on each needle after I have knit together the end stitches.  This results in a heavier end for each row, and simply precludes holes and flimsiness.  Remember, knitting is an art as well as a craft.
The 4 stitches on each straight needle will be the edges on each side of the foot.  At this point, begin knitting around, and pick up 2 stitches on end-straight-needles that will now be inserted into your work at the ends of the 4 cast on stitches on 2 straight needles.  Your 4 preliminary side cast-on stitches will remain constant throughout the foot and up to the heel slip-on to a holder.  I continue picking up 2 stitches between the 4 constant stitches, you now are working with 4 straight needles and the 5th straight needle that you are knitting with.  This 5th straight needle isn’t constant, of course, but alternatively replaces the needle off of which you are knitting as you work around the sock. 

I usually end with about 16 stitches on my needle, top and bottom, before I stop increasing the side stitches, which are now the top of the foot and the bottom of the foot.  You will also still have the preliminary 4 stitches that are the side ridges.  Using stitch markers, at this point I divide onto the 4 working straight needles, which makes it easier to keep the stitches on the needles.  This way your 4 side stitches can be incorporated into a knitting round comfortably, as long as you maintain your stitch markers to keep your top and bottom foot stitches separated from your 4 side stitches.
At the same time your different-color pattern can be worked into the round, keeping the 4 side stitches the preliminary solid color which will give you a solid color stripe up each side of the foot.in 4 stitches.
When you have completed these portions of your sock, you will have a completed sock without a heel, and your bottom heel stitches on a holder.  So the number of stitches you had cast off for the heel, and then picked up at the ankle in the round to complete the leg portion of your sock, are at this point picked up on a second needle, which is then separated.  You now have 3 straight needles with stitches and the 4th needle you are knitting with.
Begin working these stitches in the round, and I will generally work the first 3 or 4 rounds before I begin to decrease.  The decreases are the technique that will create the rounded heel, and I will work decreases at the ends of the bottom cast-off portion of the heel.  The new stitches that are picked up from the knit-in-the-round leg portion can be split onto 2 straight needles, and it seems to work well to decrease one at the beginning of the first needle but not at the end, no decrease on the second needle, but then decrease at the end of the second needle.  At the same time, as you work around, continue to decrease at each end of the straight needle upon which the bottom heel stitch-holder stitches are worked.
When I have decreased down to about 4 stitches on each straight needle, cast off and slip stitch into place.  By the way, the toe in this technique wears like iron because there is no gap. 
And the subject of this article---the wool embroidery yarn.  I suspect that if I ever work through the huge box of wool embroidery yarn for my knit socks, I will go out and purchase wool embroidery yarn for my next pairs of socks.  The embroidery wool is warm, washes well, wears well, and is a delight to wear over thin cotton socks.  Our feet are often the only parts of our body that aren’t cold out here in the winter woods of January or February.
I’m a fan of cleanliness, my husband not so much.  I watch sadly as he comes into the house in his outdoor boots, sits down and takes off the boots, and back-tracks through the muck and mire in my artist-socks.  In his defense, he may have been outside in -25 degree weather gathering firewood, but the socks get dirty.
My method of cleaning them is very effective and easy.  I have a bucket for hand-washables, and in go the socks.  The particularly dirt spots are sprinkled with baking soda and a bit of laundry detergent and rubbed together.  A bit more laundry detergent and baking soda are sprinkled over everything at this juncture, and hot water from the faucet completes the process.  They are soaked overnight.  In the morning I dump the concoction into my automatic washer at the ringer cycle to remove the dirty water, laundry detergent and baking soda.  When this stops I turn the washer cycle to the rinse cycle, small amount of cold water and run it through to the end.
This is simple and effective.  The socks are then hung on my clothes line, and ready to re-wear in like-new condition.

Knitting the Impossible

 I have never attended a knitting class. My professional career included NYS and Federal exams that meandered through years. The thought of taking on yet another class wasn’t appealing. In fact, my interest in knitting was probably maintained and grew in contrast to the compliant-intense professional employment with the unforgiving demand for excellence and adhering to rules and guidelines.
Knitting was my unconscious response to attempting to cling to some level of autonomy and to clear out the tension. And so, I fell back on my heritage of needlework that was a part of the everyday life of my mother, grandmother, aunts, and female family friends.
With the mountains of needlework in my family, knitting, strangely, was not one of the areas of expertise for these independent and capable women. I saw much of crocheting, sewing, tatting, embroidery---you name it, they did it. They could slaughter a chicken and cook it for Sunday dinner, which was noon, without straying from their lighthearted conversation. Harvest a garden to feed the family through the winter---it went without saying.
But knitting? Nada! So I began slowly reading through knitting instruction books, wishing to learn but feeling very uncertain in my ability. I wandered the yarn department of stores, sometimes buying a set of knitting needles or yarn I admired, between my professional work demands, studying, and embarking on a career in a so-called “man’s profession”.
I learned a very important lesson. If you work along step by step, there is almost nothing you can’t accomplish. My knitting journey possibly informed my professional path. The professional work was daunting. But just as in knitting, if you don’t jump into the middle, but rather take each project step-by-step, the result is truly inspiring.

I’ve finally come to the time in life when I can retire. Now that I’ve slowed down, to say I’m shocked with what I’ve accomplished is an understatement. And I now have the time to devote to my real love of knitting. I found a project that quite frankly was beyond my expertise; but with my 40-years of experience of meeting challenges, I decided to give this knitting project a try.
Once again, the instructions seemed daunting, but I shelled out the cash for the project and began where I always begin. First I read through the directions from beginning to end. The directions never make sense to me the first reading, just like when I was a novice at knitting.
If needed, I’ll put the directions down for a day or a week and let them rest. I’ll pick them up again and read through once more. Eventually, I’ll begin to feel the need to get started---I’m sure all crafters recognize this urge.
This is the time to start with step 1 and pretend there is no other facet of the project. This is precisely the process that worked in my mind-bending professional career. I have yet to meet a challenge I couldn’t conquer and learn, when I take it one step at a time.
My latest knitting project, which has been the most fun in knitting I’ve experienced ever, is almost complete. I’m surprised with how gracefully it has turned into the end result I first saw in the photograph that attracted me in the first time.
This is, of course, the way to build confidence. And by the way, a knitting class would be an excellent place to begin. My point is, if you wish to accomplish something, do it. Don’t get ahead of yourself; and know you have the same ability as anyone.
My latest project included steeking, in which, after an intricate rose pattern circle of about 1 ½ ‘ was completed in knitting, I needed to take my scissors and cut through the middle of the entirety. I had heard of this technique perhaps 20 years ago. At the time I tossed the project instructions aside with a sarcastic “yea, right!!”
Come to find out, even after using the 10 different yarn colors to complete this gorgeous circle of roses, the adventure of cutting through the center was superlative. Throughout the project, I would set it aside for a day or a week while I mulled over and envisioned in my mind what the instructions were trying to get me to accomplish. No need to rush, and no need to be intimidated. Simply take the time to wrap your mind around what you are doing.
Now I’m ready to take on just about anything. Not that I haven’t already.
So, if you are a new knitter, find an easy project to start on. Have fun with the fascinating materials you can find, and start at the beginning of your directions.
You will never run out of excellence to achieve in knitting. I can’t wait to tackle my next challenge.
And you will love the confidence you gain.