This week, while I felt like I was being smothered by a gajillion little things that refused to go right (for instance, the gallon of milk that went sour more than 10 days before its sell-by date), even my knitting wasn't much help.
I've been working on the second Bayerische sock. It's actually going pretty well, and when considered on its own, I'm quite pleased with it. The problem is in comparing it to its mate:
This shows the problem even better:
They aren't the same size. I think to get a matched pair, I'm going to have to knit 3 socks. Fortunately, I have plenty of yarn for doing so. The real problem is that I'm just not that in love with this pattern. While I think it's absolutely gorgeous, I also find it a little fiddly and hard on my hands.
So as my alternative, easy, mindless sock project, I started some Jaywalkers for Mr. Darcy. I really like the Jaywalker pattern. It's easy and smooth and I can knit it while I'm reading. In less than a week, then, I got the first sock done:
Looks pretty good, no? And it even took less than half the yarn I had. There's only one problem. I'm a little nervous about the size. Are size 11 feet really that big?
So it's on hold until I see Mr. Darcy in a week and a half and can make him try it on. There's no way I'm frogging two socks, if it comes to that.
Given the state of things, what's a woman to do? What antidote can there be for all the unpleasantness and frustration, when even the knitting is involved in the conspiracy? There are, I would think, many options such as hiding under the bed, running away, or setting fire to something, but I chose a different path.
I took some very lovely, recently acquired yarn
Given the state of things, what's a woman to do? What antidote can there be for all the unpleasantness and frustration, when even the knitting is involved in the conspiracy? There are, I would think, many options such as hiding under the bed, running away, or setting fire to something, but I chose a different path.
I took some very lovely, recently acquired yarn