Adventures in Sockland or, the good, the good and the ugly

First, an FO:

Pattern: Highland Schottische Kilt Hose, by Nancy Bush in Folk Socks
Yarn: Regia Silk 4-Ply in Charcoal
Needles: Addi Turbo 32" size 1 1/2 (2.5 mm)




I love these knee-high stockings. They're super comfy and warm, and they fit perfectly. I was a little concerned that they'd make my ginormous calves look ginormous-er, but I don't think they do.

They went super fast, continuing my insane sock knitting frenzy. I started them two weeks ago, the third pair in as many weeks... the second one took about 4 days. I like them with my little mary janes. But I can also wear them to relax in. Ah, Kilt hose. How do I lurve thee...


Next, though comes a sad, sad tale of yarn that tricked me with it's pretty colors and squishness.

Ah, Cherry Tree Hill supersock merino, how I loved your greys and blues and lavenders, how I loved the soft snowiness of your white and the leafiness of your green.

But how you tricked me. Pretty, pretty yarn. Knits up so so ugly.
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This shot doesn't even do justice to the hideous pooling and flashing on the instep. A big chunk of white next to a triangular pool of purple. Gah. Horror of horrors. KBull described it as an "'80s couch." Totally. I have two other skeins of cherry tree hill supersock that I just added to the stash, and I may just have to return them. I can't stomach another betrayal.

These were supposed to be for my sis for christmas, but the Birch Breezes of Horror have (mercifully) been frogged, and I cast on something to relieve my aching eyeballs.


Pomatomus from Knitty, by Cookie A. In Koigu KPPPM, two skeins of which I bought at Stitches this past February. This yarn started off as Monkeys, but quickly became Elfines (scroll all the way down), but didn't like being either of them. But Pomatomus, I love already. There's something about the texture and direction of this pattern that really takes to variegated yarns in a way that many other patterns don't (eh hem. Breeze?).

So, the Poms and I ride off into the sunset together, leaving birch in a stringy puddle of 80s couch hideousness in the dust.