Sock knitting people, what’s the best heel type to do and do you prefer toe up or cuff down? I’m thinking of trying sock knitting soon. Any other tips would be nice too
I have only knitted top down socks so far. I’ve done five pairs so far and I like it. I am interested in trying toe up, but I haven’t had a chance. For my first sock pattern, I started with Rye by Tin Can Knits. It’s free and specifically intended to be your first sock pattern. They also have Rye Light that’s done in actual sock weight yarn. Good luck!
The “best” heel is such a personal thing. For my husband I do a band heel (I have switched to toe-up socks, and just do the heel exactly the same as I normally would - so the heel flap and band sit under the foot). For the kids I do French heel. I’ve done short row heels for design purposes (it wasn’t a super-well fitted sock, so I don’t know if it was a great heel).
It’s all about foot shape and how the recipient (could be you) likes their socks to fit.
I once took a 6-week(end) course over all kinds of heels. Basically it comes down to how you want the sock to look, feel, and wear. I highly recommend making little cuffs that start about ½ inch from when you would start the heel.
you’re twelve years old and you break your father’s hand when he hi-fives you. the first thing you learn is that the smallest slip up can hurt the people you love. your (foster) father smiles and says it’s okay (it’s not).
your parents are not your parents. the idyllic farming community that raised you is not your home. you’re a You-Don’t-Know-What from You-Don’t-Know-Where. all you know for sure is that you’re not human.
so you can fly. so you can run fast. so you can lift cars. so what? why do you even have this power? what should you even do with it?
your father said do what’s right, so that’s what you do.
you stop a robbery. the man’s knife shatters against your skin and you see the same fear in his eyes that you saw in your father’s when you were twelve. you catch a falling child before it can hit the water. his mother looks at you like you’re a god.
they love you, even though they don’t know you. the most powerful man in the world hates you because they love you.
you wanted to write when you were younger. you wanted to tell stories that needed to be told. you never wanted to star in them. you never wanted super-geniuses and demi-goddesses looking to you for advice; like you have any idea how to handle threats to reality itself. you’re just a kid from smallville who’s trying to do the best he can with what he’s given.
you try and get back to the farm as much as you can. it feels normal being back among the open wheat; where everyone smiles because you’re that nice Kent boy.
when you were younger, you pretended to fly, hands out to your sides and running through the tall grass by the river. it doesn’t look as beautiful from on high; the details get lost and the colors of your hometown blur together from a mile above ground.
the problem with flying is that it puts you so far above people you care about
“oh but Superman is such a boring c-“ shut up shut up shut up forever.
One of the keys to Bruce and Clark’s friendship is Bruce going ‘powers shmowers you think your godlike strength makes you infallible and above people? You’re just some dude in a cape. Who’s an idiot.’
Clark: Oh thank God. This guy gets it.
Bruce *expecting arrogance*: wait what
Clark: yesterday I accidentally locked myself out of my apartment in my underwear trying to get the mail and I forgot I could just break the door open. I stood there for an hour waiting for the locksmith to open before I remembered.
Bruce:….
Clark: I’M AN IDIOT OK, I’m just a guy, I have no idea what I’m doing
Bruce: I hate how endearing this is. Stop making me like you
Clark: if I get my mom to make you lemon squares will you teach me how to pick a lock
