Happy Valentine's Day

My husband surprised me with 2 dozen beautiful red and white roses for Valentine's Day. He's usually good with giving me something, but this is the first time for roses, I think. I would typically say that I'm not that crazy about roses, but these are gorgeous. He put them on my computer desk where I work from home, knowing that it's the first place I stumble to in the morning (I have a wretched 7:15 ayem meeting daily). What a great surprise! Work has been very stressful - looking at beautiful roses really helps.

Lovely, sunny day today. I noticed some crocuses out the other day, and the snowdrops and clematis are coming out, roses putting out new growth. I love this time of year, and while it is still cold and spring isn't here yet, it's my favorite, hopeful time of year.

I.Am.An.Idiot.

I've been spending time on Ravelry lately, and getting more comfortable with all the stuff there. Sunday I decided to inventory my knitting needles. I have a lot, jumbled up in a needle case, on shelves, in bags. Most are old metal ones that I've had for 30 years, although I have started buying bamboo and wood circular and double pointed needles. And Addi Turbofast needles, which are amazing. So, I get to the needles I used for making my socks. They were in a sleeve with no size on it, and I couldn't read what was written on them, so I put them in my handy gauge/needle sizer, and guess what - they're size 3! I thought they were size 2! No wonder my socks are too big - what an idiot!

I'm not sure what happened. I may have had them before class, and took them along, thinking it was likely we would start relatively big. Or I may have grabbed the wrong size, then got it in my head they were 2's. I don't know - it is kind of a relief. I don't feel like such a sock-knitting failure.

I put my second sock away - have been working on other things. But now I have my sock enthusiasm back! I needed cotton yarn for a market bag swap I'm doing for Ravelry, and decided to go out to Issaquah to a Pacific Fabrics store. It turns out that store is closing and everything is on sale. It's pretty picked over already, but I found plenty of sock yarn, including alpaca sock yarn, and needles, and a book (Knit Lit Too). I'm going to be across the street from it tomorrow, so I'm going in with a clear head and a plan.

Sock Class Graduation

I graduated from sock class last Saturday, and have the proof:

I didn't get the gauge quite small enough, so they're a bit big, and the striping doesn't match, and I didn't get the toe decrease right on the first one. But they are a pair of socks, good enough to wear around the house. I've got another one done in a different pattern, in a solid navy blue - it's a bit big too, so I definitely have to get the gauge right. I'm afraid I'll be using size 0 needles. ;(

Absolutely addicted - very fun and so many variations!

Groundhog Day

The Yarn Harlot says this is the day for blogger's silent poetry readings. This is one of my favorites, by Pablo Neruda:

Ode to a pair of socks

Maru Mori brought me
a pair
of socks
that she knit with her
shepherd's hands.
Two socks as soft
as rabbit fur.
I thrust my feet
inside them
as if they were
two
little boxes
knit
from threads
of sunset
and sheepskin

My feet were
two woolen
fish
in those outrageous socks,
two gangly,
navy-blue sharks
impaled
on a golden thread,
two giant blackbirds,
two cannons:
thus
were my feet
honored
by
those
heavenly
socks.
They were
so beautiful
I found my feet
unlovable
for the very first time,
like two crusty old
firemen, firemen
unworthy
of that embroidered
fire,
those incandescent
socks.

Nevertheless
I fought
the sharp temptation
to put them away
the way schoolboys
put
fireflies in a bottle,
the way scholars
hoard
holy writ.
I fought
the mad urge
to lock them
in a golden
cage
and feed them birdseed
and morsels of pink melon
every day.
Like jungle
explorers
who deliver a young deer
of the rarest species
to the roasting spit
then wolf it down
in shame,
I stretched
my feet forward
and pulled on
those
gorgeous
socks,
and over them
my shoes.

So this is
the moral of my ode:
beauty is beauty
twice over
and good things are doubly
good
when you're talking about a pair of wool
socks
in the dead of winter.

taken from Odes to Common Things