Lost Arts studio

A lot of the fiber arts I enjoy are things like tatting, netmaking, chair caning, and even weaving, where people will come up to me when I demonstrate and solemnly tell me, "That's a lost art."

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Location: SW Outer Nowhere, Michigan, United States

On the Internet, nobody knows you're a chicken. (With apologies to Peter Steiner.)

23 November 2006

I Heard These Needles Calling Me

So I interrupted my sock knitting and went to the thrift store and bought them.

I just went to this thrift store in the last couple of weeks and bought some DMC Cebelia in shades of pink for 50 cents a ball. But yesterday afternoon I felt a restless urge to go there again. Even as I was driving there, I thought to myself, "What am I doing? I was just there. It's not like there's going to be anything new."

But there they were, all bundled together with a piece of clear shipping tape: eight sets of straight needles and a size 10 cro-hook, for two dollars.

I had heel-hesitation on these socks. The feet were knitted, and I had to re-do the heel calculations on a piece of scribbley paper, because I can never believe them. Two-thirds of the stitches for the heel? I figured my rows per inch, and how narrow the heel needs to be, and yup, 40 out of 60 stitches gives me a heel cup that fits my foot like . . . well, like these socks were made for me.

I worked one row of the ribbing and put them down. That's easy knitting, now that the thinking part is done.

Now I have to go make cranberry relish and a couple of pies! See you after turkey!


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