The reason I haven’t been talking about my knitting to y’all lately is that I’m not allowed to show it. I’m knitting like a madwoman on these Hogwarts socks, and I don’t want to ruin the surprise. By the way, I’ve come to believe that I may be the slowest knitter on the planet. I read this interview with Deb, who did the 52 pair plunge in under 6 months. She says she gets through a sock in between 5.5 and 8 hours. Wow. I bow in awe to Deb’s knitterly speed. This got me thinking, though. Is she that fast, or am I just that slow?! Regardless, I shall plod along and finish… eventually.

I think it’s safe to tell you that these socks have a teensy bit of colorwork, so I found myself dealing with a few balls of yarn at once. At first, I just stopped every row or so and untangled everything. If I waited more than two rows, it was quite a mess. Eventually, I remembered seeing a photo of a yarn bobbin somewhere online. I ran to my old cross-stitch drawer, and dug out one of those cardboard cards. Feeling quite proud of myself, I wound my bobbin and continued on.

There’s a reason that these aren’t marketed as yarn bobbins. They’re not quite strong enough, and about once every row or two, the end of the yarn would slip from the slit and the bobbin would tumble down. If I didn’t catch it quickly enough, the kitten would be happy to pounce on it for me. Multiply this by the number of bobbins, and I was getting a bit irritated by the end of sock #1. However, it was still better than untangling full balls of yarn.

Between socks, I made a trip to the LYS and looked around for bobbins. I found a plastic version of my cardboard nemesis, and was actually standing in line with it when I saw THEM. Strange, stacked transparent discs marked as bobbins. When I asked the shop owner about them, she positively glowed with praise. Now that I’ve used them, I’m glowing, too. They are wonderful. Firstly, they don’t have corners to catch on each other – when they bang together, they just slide past. They also don’t kink up your yarn. And, they pop open for easy winding.

Here’s the kicker, though… they hang beautifully. When you want a little more yarn, just give a tug and it comes right out.

*sigh* I just love me a good gadget. If you invented these, let me know. I owe you a box of chocolates.

This product is called ‘E-Z Bobs’, from Bryson Distributing in Eugene, OR. The size pictured here is ’small’, and came 10 to a pack for $4.50 at my LYS. Totally worth it.

Ah, how quiet the blogosphere was this weekend as many of my favorite bloggers were off having fun at Rhinebeck in NY. I hope y’all had fun, and I wish I could have been there. So does Karrie. So much so, that’s she’s holding a little Fake Rhinebeck contest. Go have a look.

So, here’s my phony booty:

A luscious sweater’s worth of Mission Falls 1824 superwash, waiting to be turned into Eris.

Uhhh. Is that the wrong kind of yarn? Does Rhinebeck only have indy stuff? I have no idea, as I’ve never been to a fiber festival before. Hmmmm. Okay… let’s try this:

Sleeping Dragon 100% superwash handpainted sock yarn in the ‘ramble’ colorway. It’s still looking for its destiny.

See you next year at Rhinebeck… or fake Rhinebeck, which is much more likely. Knit on.

Beautiful day. I have a head cold. No sleep. Three days. Hero hubby took the little bits out for the day, including a nice long walk in the woods. He brought back lovely photos, including this one.

Saturday sky, from the forest floor.

Saturday’s sky. Not a cloud in sight all day long.

Have you ever had a conversation with a child who is utterly convinced he’s right? As the sensible adult, you lay out a reasonable argument and then lead the child through the conversation to the inescapable conclusion that lies beyond. The child, who has been down this path before, can sense the conclusion looming. He doesn’t quite know how you’re going to lead him to it, but he knows it’s there. So, he does the only thing he can think of… he digs in his heels and denies everything. The sky is blue? No… more of an interesting shade of gray. Water wet? Well, let’s leave it at perhaps-a-bit-more-than-damp, Mom.

As the mother of two seven year old boys, I experience this sort of thing a lot. Last week, I experienced it from the other side. The part of the reasonable adult was played by my sock yarn, while the mantle of the recalcitrant child was assumed by the only adult in this house that plays with yarn on a regular basis. The conversation went something like this:

Yarn: Oh! Hrmmm, my fabric isn’t lying as flat as it could. I have some wobbly stitches, don’t I?

Me: Wow, I’ve never done a whirlpool toe before. Maybe it’s affecting the tension. Look how interesting, though. I’ll do the toe again, and make sure to tighten the middle more. It’ll be fine.

Yarn: Dear, it’s quite possible that you’ll need to correct the wobbliness by going down a needle…

Me: Hey! Look! New whirlpool toe – look how nice the middle is this time. Pretty. Let’s start the foot.

Yarn: I don’t mean to interrupt, but there are still some wobbly…

Me: Oh, that’s just a whirlpool toe thing. It’ll be fine.

Yarn: …

Me (an inch and a half later): Well, maybe the whirlpool toe just doesn’t look good with you…

And so it went. Through a few more toe attempts, I pushed off my well-intentioned yarn because I knew what that inescapable conclusion was. For me, this yarn needs to be knit on a size 0 needle. When I finally gave in, it was rather a relief.

The next argument, about how best to short-row in a yarn that shows everything, was much shorter. I don’t know whether I was beaten down from the first go-round, or whether I’m actually learning. I’ll opt for the latter.

Three short row toes later, and I’m pretty happy. I know a few new toes and a bunch of ways to do short rows that I’d never tried before. But, most importantly, the yarn and I are finally getting along.