I married a man named "Graft," so I ought to be able to swing it.
After knitting the Sidewinders, there were two long and two short grafts to finish them off. Nona used straight stockinette grafts, which I found restful after working grafts in 2x2 ribbing for my Smokestack Lightning scarf.
The resulting socks fit pretty well:
It seems a bit insane to make socks in a way that requires two seams per sock, though. And one that doesn't let you easily tailor your sock length to the amount of yarn you have.
The Sidewinders look better on the foot than off:
The increases don't quite match the decreases.
But the socks themselves match rather uncannily for socks knit of space-dyed yarn:
Definitely a pair.
I like the vertical stripes and the crazy, knit-sideways snakeskin look of the Sidewinders. They are cleverly designed and fun to make, and they fit well.
It was kind of a relief this morning, however, to cast on for a simple pair of toe-up socks. The friendly short-rowed toe snuggled up, and the Cherry Tree Hill yarn just glided through my fingers.
Sometimes a single stitch seems to contain the entire universe. Time opens out, and there's only this stitch, right here, under my fingers. Other times, the knitting seems to stretch away into eternity, rolling through my fingers like fire, stitch after stitch as if they were forming themselves.
Knitting, I am convinced, distorts both time and space to conform to its own reality. Like a foot in a sock.
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