Click, click, click go the needles?
I always figured that the “clicking” of knitting needles was part of the urban legend surrounding knitting. Kind of like waving two sticks up and down with a scarf attached “signifies” knitting – so non-knitters can recognize it – but that’s not how knitting actually works. Many writers have described “the clicking of her needles as my grandmother knitted socks by the fire” with fond nostalgia.
My knitting needles have never “clicked.” Other than making a mistake, or dropping one needle against the other, the only sound my needles usually make is a sort of barely perceptible scrape as they smoothly run against each other on every stitch, and that only when I knit English style – throwing (my needles rarely touch when I pick, or knit continental). So I tossed needle-clicking into the “Only Grannies Knit, and Other Lies” bin.
I have also never made socks on 8″ Aluminum DPNs. The resting needles (the 3 I’m not using at any one time) jangle against each other as I knit, making a noise that is somewhere between a click, a chime, and a tinkle. It is absolutely delightful.
This startling discovery was made while I began the Unicorn Vomit Socks:
Unfortunately, my gauge at the toe (what I use instead of one of those mystic “gauge swatches”) was a bit tighter than at the foot, so now my sock is a bit too wide, alas. I’ll be ripping back and cut down my # of stitches from 60 to 54 or 56 or something.
I had an excellent weekend, full of other people watching football on TV while I knit, and then when they went to watch football not on TV, I did what any self-respecting classy lady with taste would do:
Knit my sweater, watched the West Wing, and ate a half-watermelon with a spoon.
(Don’t look at me like that! This method of eating a watermelon is much less messy and requires washing only the spoon. Also, I possess many talents, but eating a whole half-watermelon in one sitting is not among them.)