I am currently engaged in a battle of wills with some yarn.
Wait, that makes me sound deranged - how can yarn have a will when it's inanimate? Let me explain.
The yarn in question is this pretty that I scored in a mystery bag from Sweet Georgia Yarns:
That's their Tough Love Sock, in Hummingbird. As you can see, it's pretty, but it's one of those variegated skeins that have potential to be challenging in knitting, with the danger of pooling and flashing lurking in the skein. So I started thinking about how I might try to dissuade the yarn from that with stichery witchery.
Now, I know that there are some patterns out there that were designed by very clever individuals to help with precisely this goal. I didn't go looking for them. For one thing, many involve slipped stitches, which I specifically didn't want to use here. For another, I had a couple of ideas in my head that I wanted to try out.
My first attempt involved yarnovers that were then slipped for a couple of rows and then knit together with stitches further along in the fabric - the idea was to get the look of a slipped stitch, without actually slipping a stitch. It didn't work out the way I had in mind, so I ripped it (without taking a picture) but have sort of shelved the idea for later.
My second attempt involved throwing in some purl stitches, with the hope that the change in texture and the change in how the working yarn moves from stitch to stitch would help the colours mix together:
Yeah, not so much. Can you see what it's doing there? It's doing a sock impression of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - the pink and green are stacking up on one side, while the purples stack on the other, and the whole thing is very slowly twisting itself around as well. I have since pulled that out.
I have a couple other ideas to try, but we'll see. It may end up that the yarn's will is greater than mine. I should probably find a better way to phrase that.
Wait, that makes me sound deranged - how can yarn have a will when it's inanimate? Let me explain.
The yarn in question is this pretty that I scored in a mystery bag from Sweet Georgia Yarns:
That's their Tough Love Sock, in Hummingbird. As you can see, it's pretty, but it's one of those variegated skeins that have potential to be challenging in knitting, with the danger of pooling and flashing lurking in the skein. So I started thinking about how I might try to dissuade the yarn from that with stichery witchery.
Now, I know that there are some patterns out there that were designed by very clever individuals to help with precisely this goal. I didn't go looking for them. For one thing, many involve slipped stitches, which I specifically didn't want to use here. For another, I had a couple of ideas in my head that I wanted to try out.
My first attempt involved yarnovers that were then slipped for a couple of rows and then knit together with stitches further along in the fabric - the idea was to get the look of a slipped stitch, without actually slipping a stitch. It didn't work out the way I had in mind, so I ripped it (without taking a picture) but have sort of shelved the idea for later.
My second attempt involved throwing in some purl stitches, with the hope that the change in texture and the change in how the working yarn moves from stitch to stitch would help the colours mix together:
Yeah, not so much. Can you see what it's doing there? It's doing a sock impression of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - the pink and green are stacking up on one side, while the purples stack on the other, and the whole thing is very slowly twisting itself around as well. I have since pulled that out.
I have a couple other ideas to try, but we'll see. It may end up that the yarn's will is greater than mine. I should probably find a better way to phrase that.
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