Sock Update

Because I'm sure you are riveted, and cannot go on living until you know how my sock is coming along.

No crazy relatives have called lately -- well, none that are out of the ordinary -- and so I don't have any early morning phone hilarity for you. I can't offer you a thoughtful essay because I'm too distracted right now to think any deep thoughts. That may be a permanent condition; I'm not sure. Anyway, I don't have much to offer, but here's a sock update.

This is the sock on my hand. I tried putting it on my foot earlier, and I popped a bunch of stitches off the needles. I remained calm and fixed the problem. Okay, that's a lie. I did not remain calm. At all. Anyway, that's why it's on my hand.



For your further amusement, here is a picture of the sock as a sock puppet. Imagine the sock puppet speaking in a high, squeaky voice, and saying, "Hello. I am an alien and these are my antennae. Take me to your leader."



In case you worry for my sanity, the sock puppet came to be over the weekend, while I was sitting and knitting at a registration table. In three hours, one person came to register. We were so bored that an alien sock puppet seemed positively sane, and pretty funny.

And doesn't it look much more like a sock now?

The Sock - It Lives!

So I called my knitting teacher, the Fabulous Maureen, and told her that my life would not be complete unless I could knit socks. She very graciously did not laugh at me but instead brought patterns to our Wednesday meeting.

I have begun my first sock. Here is a (kind of bad) picture of it. It is only a couple of inches long, but it will grow.

The sock, it lives! Wheeeee!

Sickness of Various Sorts

1. Sock Sickness

I am taking a firm hold on myself and refusing to buy sock yarn. But just look at THIS and THIS (click the capital letters to see the pictures). Is there anyone on earth that would not love socks made out of this yarn? I don't think so. Your feet would be so happy they would dance by themselves. Yes, it is frightfully expensive. But that is not the worst thing.

This is the worst thing: I don't know how to knit socks.

I just want the yarn. It does make me want to learn to knit socks, though. Perhaps if I complete a pair of lovely socks in economical yarn, I will give myself a present. An expensive present. A present that will only make the sickness worse.

I think I should get an internet filter that blocks Blue Moon Fibers. They are clearly evil marketing geniuses.

2. Hat Sickness

I am knitting a lovely (terribly boring) hat for someone. He has a large head, which bothers me only because I am very sick of this hat. Boys don't seem to like things in vivid colors with frilly edges**. It's sad, and makes it much less fun to knit for them.

3. Actual Clinical Sickness

My darling (thank you, dear) brought the ick home from work. My throat feels swollen to thrice its normal size and is very scratchy. In addition, my head hurts and I've lost my balance. I am running into corners and walls in an entertaining (if you're not the performer) way. If you see me with large bruises, be aware that Paul is responsible for them only in the sense that he originally infected me.

** Except Paul, who has been known to wear pink feather boas to church. But not in our home county.

A Drive-By Post

I have barely any time today, but I just had to post this picture from our family's Christmas festivities. One niece and one nephew are, between them, missing three front teeth. (The fourth is in a most precarious situation and I am expecting an update any day now.)

We were entertained by a rousing rendition of "All I Want for Christmas" and I was able to take this picture. Which I will definitely display at their weddings someday. Mwwaaaahahaha.