Pause

Having finished the Sock Madness Round Two sock on time, I advance! I'm quite pleased, both with the socks and because I really wanted to get beyond Round One. I have a feeling I may not get beyond Round Two, but that's OK, I just wanted to progress beyond Round One.



The socks are Echoes by Liz Harris, worked in red Fortissima and white Sock-Ease. While I do admire stranded colorwork, I'm not a big fan of socks with stranded colorwork all over because it's always a struggle to pull them over my heels. But there are the happy exceptions. On these socks, I particularly like the tumbling hourglass motif, the way the stitch pattern remains coherent at the end-of-round jog, and the nice framing stitch that keeps the gusset decreases tidy. Clearly a thoughtful, technically excellent design. The yarns are recycled from two other projects, dating from 2008 and 2012, and I'm pleased they could finally be reclaimed and put to use. They work well together, I think.



The striking stitch pattern seemed vaguely heraldic to me, and I decided I wanted the MC (red) yarn dominant over the CC (white) yarn. It's more usual to have the CC dominant, but I like the results (and of course have to show them off). Here's the leg stranding.



Because I was speed-knitting, sometimes often late at night, and this week riveted by the news from Paris, sometimes I accidentally reversed the yarn dominance, which is easy to see on the wrong side of the pinstripe sole. (See the red lines among the white?) On some projects I'd feel a compulsion to tink back and fix that, but in this case I uncharacterically shrugged and knit on! For gentle readers unfamiliar with the concept of yarn dominance (some prefer the term color dominance), here's two helpful explainers.



Meanwhile, my computer migration is mostly done, but instead of the unalloyed joy of having a fast new computer I have the odd feeling that for a user like me peak utility has come and gone and, like AutoCorrect, future innovations are frequently going to be annoyances. (Although it might be nice to have a car that parallel parks itself.) As if to underscore that, when I was posting photos of Echoes to my Ravelry project page, a requirement for advancing in Sock Madness, the link from Flickr to Ravelry malfunctioned. The workaround I used was acceptable, obvs, but argh.

For observant Christians, today is the pause before the deep dive that is the culmination of Holy Week: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter. For others, maybe there's the hope of landing an invitation to an Easter feast, which this food writer dubs "Spring Thanksgiving." While that's a novel notion to me, this year I'm going to go with it.

Mobile Yarn Shop Socks

It's typical of Sock Madness that while I hitherto did not know what a demogorgon is, I speed-knit a pair of socks called Demogorgon's Lair by Dots Dabbles, trusting that when the madness passes, I (among thousands of other hapless sock knitters) will not have reason to wail, "What have I done???"



The pattern dropped while I was traveling, of course. Fortunately, I had stuffed the equivalent of the contents of a small yarn shop in my luggage... except for a crochet hook. So while I had ample choices of yarn, of course the pattern calls for a crochet hook to work the Magic Circle Cast On (aka Emily Ocker's CO). Undeterred and working with what else was on hand – a bent paperclip, a ballpoint pen, and some masking tape – I was soon knitting along using one of my favorite sock yarns, Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock, colorway 907 Envy in the old put-up.



Charmingly (or perhaps appropriately, I know not), Demogorgon the sock has different left and right legs. To comply with Sock Madness regs, I dutifully posted photos of the fronts of the socks. Thanks to the different leg patterns, to reach the same length the left leg has five pattern repeats, the right leg seven.



I'd used the left leg lace pattern before for three pairs of shortie socks that also are knit in Shepherd Sock. They're shortie socks to make the most one skein of the old put-up. The oldest pair pre-date Ravelry; all're on the blog here, here, and here.



As Kathy noted, to some eyes the toes and heels of the Demogorgon resemble bewbs and nips. My Frankenfeet can be hard to fit and, sure enough, while the bewbs fit OK, the nips will need reknitting. When I have more time (har!).

It's said the demogorgon lives in a parallel dimension public library (?), which I suppose means my Frankenfeet live in a library. That doesn't sound too bad. The sock Demogorgon's Lair is an inventive and entertaining knit – even more meaningful to members of the fandom, no doubt. For my part, I'm happy to advance to Round 2. It looks like I'll again be traveling when the pattern drops, so I'm stocking my mobile yarn shop accordingly.

Madness I Tell You

Perhaps foolishly, I stayed up late Saturday night to finish the qualifying sock for Sock Madness 13. I'm not quite sure why. I had decided to stay put for the worst of the winter weather, something I'm heartily glad I did, but in consequence foresee extra spring travel and busyness. Nonetheless I finished the pair Sunday morning, and sent off the notification, and in due course was informed I'd be placed on a suitable SM13 team. FOMO, I suppose.



The sock is Smock Madness by Elisabeth White, worked in Socks That Rock Lightweight, colorway Cobblestone County. Shown with counting threads and stroopwafel, of course. Mindful as I am of my mighty heel-arch, I had a bit of trouble getting the smocked stitches not-too-tight, not-too-loose to accommodate fit and esthetics. It's a hazard of the pattern, and while I'm glad I knit this pair and qualified for SM13, I doubt I'll make another. As it is, the socks fit my feet more closely than I prefer.



Another reason for my all-nighter was I couldn't sleep following Friday's horrific news from New Zealand. The tragedy was custom made for hateful Internet trolls, there's live video and a manifesto full of layered ironic remarks, including praise for the U.S. president, that of course that I won't link. Roundabout Exit 151, police are on high alert guarding against would-be copycats. In Washington, per usual Trump not only denies the threat posed by white nationalism, instead echoing and amplifying nationalist rhetoric. But in NZ the response has been an inspiration for the world, from acts of heroism to outpourings of floral tributes, haka, legislative reform, and outreach to sufferers from the highest levels of government.

Sigh.

So I'm on a Sock Madness team, Happy Hokkaido, and am waiting for the Round 1 competition pattern to drop, while traveling. Madness, but also an undoubted solace in an unhappy world.

FIJ Challenge: Fermentation

For the February FIJ Challenge, Fermentation, I made sourdough starter. More accurately, a sourdough colony of yeasts and lactobacilli formed itself and I fed it until it was time for it to feed me. I'd never worked with sourdough starter before – it was like having a kind of vegetable garden, or perhaps the sort of pet that's fated for the table. Patience and respect are helpful. Here it is, hard at work in the mixing bowl.



At first the sourdough starter was very active, doubling rapidly and enthusiastically. On one fermentation cycle it burped hard enough to knock its waxed paper cover askew. (I assume its high activity is because my kitchen has lots of happy microflora floating about from making yogurt, which I started during the 2017 FIJ Challenge.) Eventually a thin layer of hooch formed, and as I wasn't interested in drinking it or using it to brew lambic beer, but did want the starter to calm down, I stirred the hooch in and began small starter maintenance. The alcohol should inhibit the yeasts and encourage the lactobacilli. Even so, the starter happily doubled at room temperature in less than three hours, as shown below. I switched from fermenting in a trifle bowl covered with waxed paper to Mason jars in anticipation of storing the starter in the refrigerator.

 

Tending a sourdough starter produces a lot of discard, which I put to work. First, I made Buttery Sourdough Sandwich Biscuits. Remarkably, I could feel the sourdough rising as I cut out the biscuits – and my nicely formed biscuits slumped during baking. Ah well, Dance 10, Looks 3 – the results are very tasty. I'd definitely make them again, although maybe next time I'd reduce the amount of butter.



At room temperature the small starter replenished almost as fast as I could bake. So I made a Sourdough Chocolate Cake (with brown sugar icing) for a church potluck. It's a heavy oil cake with a coarse crumb and a nice cocoa flavor, with a faint sourdough tang (super close up below to show the crumb). When I focus on the tang, it seems subtly different than that of a yogurt or sour cream cake, which are made with fermented milk, while sourdough is fermented grain. Both make food more easily digested, and the nutrients more readily available. Makes me want to try subbing coconut oil and rye flour in the cake, the coconut oil for flavor and the rye flour for both flavor and the yeasts carried in its bran. Rye flour is legend among sourdough enthusiasts.



One sourdough legend that I ignored was a ban on metal, reminiscent of tales of the effects of cold iron on fairies – I used stainless steel without ill effect. I imagine sourdough wisdom is a bit like dye lore, accumulated over time with careful observation but no modern technology. I can see how more reactive metals such as copper or aluminum might have dramatic reactions with sourdough, which after all is acetic.



To store my sourdough starter, I'm using modern technology in the form of a new-fangled refrigerator. But I'm also trying the old school technique of drying a smear of starter on a piece of parchment paper and keeping the resulting chips in a cool, dry place. The smear contracted as it dried, forming long curved pieces that turned the flat parchment paper into a rippled hyperplane. I'll try reviving it some time in the future.

So that's my fermentation February. I've noticed fermentation projects have a sorcerer's apprentice aspect to them – unless kept well in hand, they have a tendency to increase rapidly and become overwhelming (!), not to mention one project suggests another. (Or maybe something about fermentation appeals to the more obsessive aspects of one's personality. Huh, I've been trying to do some shadow work.) I'd like to try making kimchi, and may yet do so, but also wanted to post this wrapup in time for the FIJ deadline. So, onward to March and herbs.

February Is the Shortest Month

It's February, and so Black History Month in the U.S., and because of this and oh-so-many other reasons my book group is reading White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo and I'm Still Here by Austin Channing Brown, both excellent and worthy reads, particularly when read in parallel. Although the theme of the selections, a seasonal phenomenon, does tend to bring to mind the pesky question Why now? and the uncomfortable exchange:

Q. Why is February Black History Month?
A. Because it's the shortest month.

The barbed joke is not to suggest that black history lacks substance – far from it, the dual narratives of black enslavement and Native American genocide are foundational for the entire hemisphere and continue into the present – but rather to hint that white attention spans are so short that 28 days (or 29, in a leap year) is really all the time anyone could reasonably expect white people to pay attention to anything not featuring them in the starring role. A stereotype, perhaps, or put another way the ability to flit into and out of conversations on race and culture, and impatience at being confronted about the same, are prime examples of white privilege. Earnest explanations that the choice of February has something to do with the Great Emancipator's birthday could similarly be reframed as whitesplaining, centering the conversation on whites, and denying agency to blacks. It's all about perspective and point of view.

Whew! Time for a cookie photo of some yarn, a seven-color Find Your Fade kit from Neighborhood Fiber Co. -- an independent, urban, black-owned, woman-owned business. How's that for virtue-signaling? Although ::cough:: I bought the kit back in 2017, and while it still sparks joy, I haven't yet knit it up. Too much travel, sigh.



Sadly, and no surprise, retreat into fibery goodness provides no safe space from race matters, witness the turmoil propagating from a single insensitive blogpost about an international trip. It's a striking illustration of white tears that many crafters do not see the original post as problematic at all and instead lament that the blogger's dream vacation has been ruined by over-zealous BIPOCs. All that unspooled in less than a week in January, and continues to unspool. While I hesitate to dive into the controversy now – and have hesitated to link to the OP, not least because I think she's gotten quite enough attention – the topic is not going away anytime soon. So let me link the links and ruminate on my February reading and keep on keeping on.

Edited to add: this Vox article gives a helpful, non-judgmental summary of the controversy.



As last month was unexpectedly hectic (gusty sigh), I never did manage the January FIJ Challenge, citrus. I'm catching up now with some citrus jam (not marmalade) made from miscellaneous leftover Lunar New Year citrus – a lot of tangerines, two Meyer lemons, half a Cara Cara navel orange, and a couple segments from a red grapefruit. I'll never repeat the exact mix again! I mostly followed this recipe for Orange Cardamom Jam... except the fruits were so sweet and fragrant, I omitted the cardamom, used Pomona Pectin and only one-third of the sugar, and had a greatly reduced cooking time. It's my first time using Pomona Pectin, which does not rely on sugar to set, and I think I overdid it – the set is a bit rubbery. But the flavor is fresh and sweet-tart with just a touch of pleasantly bitter aftertaste. The yield is excellent: a scant three cups of citrus pulp turned into five quarter-pints of jam with an almost-full jar as the cook's share. I neglected to take any process photos; it was a little surprising how the intensely colored tangerines turned golden with cooking. Overall, I'm pleased, and the jam is my first official FO of 2019 – a little sweet to go with the bitter.