My grandmother’s knitting story goes like this: when she was in college it was fashionable for girls to knit argyle socks for their sweethearts and male friends.
My grandmother was a brilliant student, entering college at the age of 16, and of Scandinavian descent no less, surely, one of her male friends teasingly challenged, she too could knit argyle socks.
Ever the pragmatist, my grandmother’s response was to hire another friend to knit her the socks, which she then presented to the challenger passing them off as her own. Needless to say, I did not learn to knit from (either) of my grandmother(s).
This year I decided to take her argyle challenge and knit her some argyles of my own (shh. don’t tell).
I’m beginning to see the wisdom in her original course of action. My first attempt looked OK from the front, but the myriad of looped strands in the back seemed like a bad idea in a sock: I worried about the tension, and about toes getting snagged on the loops… Rrrip.
My next attempt was in interasia,thinking I’d stitch the peach diagonals in later. I decided to work on only one sock at a time this time. Good thing too, because this was painstaking knitting, let me tell you. I obviously am not a master at interasia. It looks much better from behind than before, but it was all I could do to keep my various little yarn balls fairly straight and I still have a lot of little gaps to tug closed. I’m beginning to think a single band of argyle around the ankle will be all I can muster if these are to be completed this year. Sigh.. Rrrip.