Stepping Away from the Edge

Oh, Those Chestnuts!

Finally!  I can share!  Hit it, Nat!

 

If you remember, back in October I joined "SocktoberFest."  Not to make socks.  No.  To make slippers for the people I love!

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. . .

(for my brother-in-law, Kurt, and Erin's boyfriend, Keith)

(back view)

Jack Frost nipping at your nose. . .

(for my sister, Di)

Yuletide carols being sung by a choir. . .

(for my niece, Jes)

And folks dressed up like eskimos. . .

(for Erin)

Everybody knows some turkey and some mistletoe

(for my Dad)

Help to make the season bright. . .

(for my Mom)

And then. . . the song ends.  For now.  I have two more pairs of slippers to complete -- one for my friend, Sandie (nearly finished) and one for Brian (but, really, who wants to knit for a size 13 foot???). 

Althought it's been said many times, many ways. . . Slippers make a great holiday gift!

(Ravelry details here, here, here, here, here, and here!)

Reports are in:  The slippers seem to be a hit with all recipients.  This photo (sent by Erin) warms a Mom-Knitter's heart:

I'm ready to put the slipper patterns away for awhile -- but it was fun to give warm feet for Christmas!

 

Socks With a Purpose

Yes.  Another sock post featuring socks from long ago . . . to divert your attention from the fact that I'm not saying anything about the "footwear" I'm currently knitting for SocktoberFest!

You see, I used to knit socks all the time.   Always plain-vanilla socks.  I have many pairs still in my own personal sock-rotation, but I've also knit several pairs of socks to give as gifts.  (I even knit a pair for Brian once -- which is a huge undertaking, given his size 13 feet!)

They were Socks With a Purpose!

When Erin was in high school, she was active in forensics (competitive public speaking; not the NCIS kind of forensics).  Her high school is Very Good in forensics and debate.  Very Good.  They just won their tenth consecutive state championship in forensics last year.  Erin was a member of four of those state championship teams, and, in fact, was the individual storytelling state champion as a senior.

(Sorry.  Just had to stick that in there.  I didn't blog back then, and this was a Very Big Deal.)

Anyway.  Forensics is a very intense, very nerve-wracking "sport."  The season is long.  The tournaments are long.  The pressure is unbelievable (especially when you're a contender for top honors, which Erin was -- each year of high school).  And Erin liked me to "be there" with her/for her. 

So I was.

Forensics tournaments begin with three preliminary rounds, where all competitors participate and compete against each other (in fourteen separate public speaking events).  After those rounds, they cut to 12 semi-finalists.  After those rounds, they cut to 6 finalists.  And then you wait a long time while all the results are tabulated and winners are announced.  It takes all day.  It is very intense.  (Regional and state tournaments last even longer, with more rounds.)

Erin was always right in there - as a finalist - intense to the bitter end. 

What was a mom to do?  Why. . . knit through it, of course!  Knitting got me through forensics.  (Really, I think it was the only thing that kept me sane through all those tournaments and all that stress.) 

Socks were the perfect forensic-knitting (in fact, I called them my "foren-socks") because they were portable, somewhat mindless, and small.  I used to crank out a couple of pairs each forensics season.  But, then, when Erin finished with high school -- and forensics, I put away the sock knitting (mid-sock, truth be told), and I haven't picked it up again!

I'm not sure that I ever will pick it up again, actually.  I think there is just too much intensity wrapped up in knitting socks for me now.  Four years of "foren-socks" probably just did me in as far as sock-knitting goes.

Socks got me through. . . they served their purpose.  But now?  I think I'll stick with sweaters.

 

There's Always a First Time

Seems kind of silly. . . to be doing a SocktoberFest post. . . when I can't do any kind of meaningful update on my SocktoberFest projects!  (Other than to say . . .  it's going well and I'm making good progress.)

So I decided to share this with you.

My first socks.  Circa 2003.

I don't remember the yarn.  I don't remember the pattern.  I do remember, though, feeling very excited about being able to manage four double-point needles.  I was completely charmed by how all the "parts" came together to form a real, live sock: the cuff, the heel, the gusset, the foot, the toe.  I thought "turning the heel" was magical. 

This particular pair of socks was intended for Tom.  He's never worn them, though.  They're far too big.  But I saved them anyway.  (Perspective, you know.)

So, there.  I feel a little better.  Socks in October. 

Hold On To Your Hat

Yeah.  That's right.  I joined SocktoberFest.

Hold on to your hat! 

(Or, maybe I should say. . . hold on to your socks!)

Since beginning this blog. . . I have never, ever, never shared with you one pair of socks.  Not one. 

Sweaters, mittens, hats, minions, shawls, bags, wash cloths, cowls, potholders, and scarves.  Sure.

But not one sock. 

Never.

That doesn't mean I haven't knit socks (because I have). 

It just means. . . I haven't knit any lately.

Anyway, I joined SocktoberFest.

Why?  I'm sure that's the burning question.

Because, really. . . I'm still not actually knitting . . . socks.

But.  I am knitting something kind of like socks.

But not really socks.

And I can't tell you any more. 

Because.  Well.  It's also Christmas knitting.

And most of the eventual recipients actually read my blog.

So it's all a big secret.  (For now, at least.)  But it does have to do with feet.  And I can, legitimately, be part of SocktoberFest.

But that's all I can say for now!