(Insert Super Mario Music Here)

The key to my freak speed knitting on socks is that they're not frilly, lacy, cable-ey patterns. Except for a few rows of rib at the top, and a slip stitch heel flap, the whole sock is stockinette stich. Which I can certainly do with my eyes closed and possibly with one hand tied behind my back (though that would slow me down).

It's a round about way of saying, I just finished another pair:



But even more pathetic. I did this (turns out I needed an 8-bit image):



In duplicate stitch with some spare embroidery floss I had lying around. Because Yummy asked me too.

I would never want my children to think anything was impossible.

Basic sock pattern from my head
8 bit mario image-Googled
Knit Picks Stroll Kettle Dyed in Soot, Superwash wool and nylon

More Socks

I am in a sock knitting frenzy. The only thing my hands want to knit is socks, on size 2 needles. For some reason size 2 makes the stretchiest, and fastest knitting sock.

These socks were knit on size 1s. Size 1 needles are 2.25 mm wide (about the width of pencil lead).



I used 2x2 ribbing the whole way, so they stretch wider than they look. The cuffs are 64 stitches around.

Yummy can't pull them over his heels. Someday I might post about the unfortunate foot genetics my (and the Businessman's) children have inherited, but not today. Vish (my younger, smaller heeled child) ended up with a new pair of socks.

These socks...



...use the same yarn but are knit on size 2s, which are 2.75mm wide. I used 48 stitches. Not only did it take me about a day and a half to knit these, but they are stretchy enough to go over Yummy's heels. I didn't have enough yarn to make them long enough for his feet (refer back to the threat potential post I mentioned earlier), so they went to Vish. Again.

There you have it. The universal laws of science rarely pertain to knitters. Decreasing stitches results in stretchier socks.

And if nothing else demanded my attention, I could knit 100 pairs of socks in a year. Stretchy ones that I could pull over my mutant heels.

But who needs 100 pairs of socks?

My own sock recipes
ONLine Supersock 100, wool and nylon I think.

Hungry Bees Socks

My ungrateful son, Yummy, had asked for socks with a dragonfly on them last summer. I barely accommodated by squiggling some yarn in a sock I was knitting and he was satisfied.

More recently I was browsing Ravelry and stumbled upon these Hungry Bee socks. I grabbed some random sock yarn I had lying around (does sock yarn breed? I swear I didn't know I had that much.) and cast on.

By the end of the day I was covered in hives.

Bee socks. Hives. Funny.

I was slightly feverish and I may have convinced myself that the only way I was going to get rid of the itch was to finish the socks. I may also have eaten copious amounts of honey, ran through the house in figure eight formations shaking my ass, and/or wore a crown on my head while speaking in a weird buzzing language.

It would explain why my family avoided me for five days. Then again, maybe no one else wanted to be sick.

I did make bees.



The day I finished, Yummy had a new pair of socks.



And I could finally walk across carpet without actively trying to scratch the bottoms of my ridiculously ticklish feet.

A good trade-off, but I won't be knitting these* anytime soon.

*Because I hate snakes. I'm sure the pattern is lovely.