We were on holiday in the Lake District last week. Not unsurprisingly, there was a lot of rain, and although we managed one walk we spent most of the week snug by the fire in our cottage, watching DVDs (Babylon 5, Scrubs and Pink Panther movies), listening to Radio 4, reading (Busman’s Honeymoon) and, of course, knitting. The end result was that I finished the Skew socks I’d cast on for the Tuesday before we went away on Thursday:

Despite the unfamiliar construction I found the pattern very easy to follow (except for some slight confusion in the stitch counts of the set-up rows for the ribbing, where I just did what seemed logical even where it didn’t quite agree with the pattern, and it turned out fine), and it was fascinating knitting the first sock and seeing how the unusual shaping eventually produced something that looked like a sock. And I love the way the diagonal lines of the socks work with the handpainted yarn (it’s the Knitting Goddess’s sock yarn, again, this time in the Winter Sun colourway):

They’re also a lovely fit, although a little snug going over my heels. I’m wondering about variations to the basic pattern; how about making the bands between the increases and decreases wider and running a cable or lace motif along them? Or adding a rib or another stitch pattern that would slant with the grain of the socks? There are lots of possibilities. Or maybe I should dig out my copy of Cat Bordhi’s New Pathways for Sock Knitters and try some of her architectures. It’s a good way to knit a simple enough sock to show off a handpainted yarn without being driven insane by miles of stocking stitch, anyway!
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The Skew architecture isn’t the only new trick I tried out on holiday, though. Halfway up the foot of the second sock I once again managed to poke a hole in the tip of my left index finger where I’d been using it to push the right needle back through the stitches after wrapping the yarn, and rather than giving up on the knitting and sticking to my crochet for the rest of the week I decided that, given how often I manage to do this, perhaps I should switch to knitting Continental style. So I did. I’d had a certain amount of practice at Continental knitting working on two-handed projects (the frogged Ziggy socks, the push-me-pull-yous, and Opus Spicatum) so I didn’t find it too hard to switch over, although I was still surprised that I don’t seem to be knitting any slower than I do English style; I suspect that as I get more used to knitting Continental I might even end up knitting faster than I did. Purling is a bit more of a challenge (and I only know how to do Norwegian purl Continental style), but I managed the short rows on the leg of the second Skew sock and I’m down to the heel flap on a second pair of Earl Grey socks for my husband and it’s not going too badly. It’s not quite automatic yet – about half the time when I pick up my knitting I start off by holding the yarn in my right hand instead of my left – but it’s getting there, and means I no longer have to fear pointy needles!
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And one last word of warning: don’t try putting a 3mm wooden crochet hook into a knitting needle gauge to check the size, or you will end up with a pointy stick. How do you check the size of crochet hooks, anyway?