That's how you do the Kitchener stitch when you close a sock toe.
Here's the long explanation (feel free to skip this if you don't give a rat): cut the yarn, thread it in a tapestry needle, snuggle the two sock needles (with the same number of stitches on each) together, points pointing to the right. Using the tapestry needle like a knitting needle, slide it through the first stitch on the front needle as if to knit and pop the stitch off, snug up the yarn a bit, then slide it into the second front-needle stitch as if to purl but leave that one on the needle, snug. Slide the tapestry needle into the first back-needle stitch as if to purl and pop it off, snug it up, next slide it into the second back-needle stitch as if to knit and leave it on the needle, snug. Go back and forth like that and pretty soon, presto!, you're done and you've got a perfect toe.
It's like a mantra. I find I'm chanting it to myself as I work those last few stitches, "knit off, purl on; purl off, knit on." It's the incantation for the magic trick. VJ commented on yesterday's post that Lord Kitchener developed the stitch so that his soldiers' feet would be comfy in their boots, no sock seam blisters allowed, so the military guy and knitting magician are one and the same. Thanks for that, VJ, because I was pestered by customers all danged day so I didn't have a chance to research it (plus I kind of forgot). It took me until bedtime to finish the last half-inch of foot and the toe, heck, it took me an hour to eat my PB&J and fruit for lunch. Now that it's warm-ish people are thinking diving. 'Bout time.
I just reread what I'd written to check that I had it correct and for a second there "needle" didn't look spelled right. Have you ever done that? Written something so many times that it looks wrong? Freaky.
I went out to check the oriole feeder the other day and there was a ring of ants around the grape jelly like wildebeest at a watering hole. It made me smile so I got the camera. Naturally by the time I got a shot I liked they had mostly scattered but I'm showing you anyway and you can imagine it. Tsk. Ants, you just can't rely on them.
There's a good-sized spider that spins a web from the eaves to the patio door frame every night. We watch since it's silhouetted against the sky. I tried to take its picture last night suspended in its web but got this one of it on the eaves instead. I think that we break the web every morning when we open the door and then it repairs it at night. It's a tough job but fascinating to watch.
June 5--United States, Dress (Robe a la Polonaise). "There is too little dress here," Helen said, her hand tugging on the neckline, "and way too much down here." She grabbed fistfuls of fabric that she brandished at her aunt. Aunt Minnie clicked her tongue. "Now, sugar, you know this is the style. All the young ladies are wearing frocks just like it." Helen opened her mouth to protest but Minnie waved her words away. "Don't complain that you can't run in these clothes. Proper young women do not run, not unless they are on fire."
Which we all know is the wrong thing to do if you catch fire. Stop, drop, and roll--that's what you're supposed to do. Now I'm going to go and see about eating the 2 remaining Red Lobster biscuits leftover from last night's supper (we had a coupon) for my breakfast. They'll go with a banana, right? *nods confidently* Right. Arrivederci!
--Barbara
1 comment:
We have a spider living between the glass and the screen in one of our windows. No matter how many times I push up the window and take that web away, the whole arrangement returns in a day or two. They are persistent little creatures!
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