The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

Look what I got in the mail the day before I left for Vancouver! Handknit socks. These are a belated birthday gift from my daughter Carrie who lives way over on the other side of the continent in North Carolina. The knitting genes skipped a generation over me and landed with her! She now spins on her Kromski Prelude wheel as well and naturally progressed to dyeing her own fibre. Her fibre Etsy page is here. Her Ravelry name is Gnomenapper and her project list is worth a look.

Here's a close up shot of the heel. I just love the lavender colour....which she tells me is properly called 'hyacinth' and the yarn is a fine merino wool.

The pattern is called 'Ribbon Lace Socks ' and come from Wendy Johnson's book: "Socks from the Toe Up". I have them stretched over my hand in this picture to show the pattern work.

But it gets better!

These are my husband's birthday socks too. She's been busy!

Close up of the heel and the colour 'ash' is darn close to the real thing. Results vary according to your monitor.

That's my lumpy hand expanding the sock to show the mock cables. Again, also from Wendy Johnson's book "Socks from the Toe Up".

He loves them!

My mother was taught to knit by her father which is a bit different from most other families. He would knit to pass the time during his duty as part of the Home Guard in WW2. During the bombing blitz of London, he and other men who were too old to serve in the military were given the duty of attending the places where bombs hit and securing the scene and rescuing people if possible. Important job when you think of the scale of the bombing and how thin fire fighters were on the ground. Anyhoo, he passed his skills onto my mother who tried (in vain) to show me how to knit at age 16. It seemed that she couldn't slow it down enough for me to get the steps... and my teen age brain didn't like her style of teaching. Let's just say we didn't push it too hard and I went onto embroidery, which I did well... and she didn't. Then I learned to crochet from a neighbour... and she didn't know how and..... Ah, the teen years, a classic adolescent battleground.

My mother was a beautiful knitter and did some amazing pieces and I recall her aran knit sweaters clearly. I wish she was still here so we could try once more but she would be so proud of her grand daughter who now carries the torch. Yes, I did try to show Carrie how to weave 'once' and she beat the fell into submission with every whack! I played her Penelope and unwove it by night, then rewove it, and in time the runner came off the loom and was given to a friend of hers as a gift.

Secrets out of the bag now I guess :)