Friday, May 29, 2009

A Very Harlotty Friday

In honor of this evening's festivities and the much-awaited visit of Toronto's own Yarn Harlot, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, a little yarn about a sock:

I finished a sock on Thursday. Usually this is a really great stage in making a pair of socks. You've done one of them, you've figured the pattern out and all of it's little idiosyncracies. You know that you can do it, and now you are ready to cast on for the second one, because, hey, it's definitely going to go faster than the first and you've got the pattern memorized.

And, who wouldn't want to cast on for the second sock in a pair that promises to be this beautiful?

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Here, the sock (Broken Cable Socks by Ann Budd in Patons Kroy Socks, colorway Flax) enjoys some time being warmed by the sun on our fancy schmancy adirondack chairs...

Except, what if you can't cast on for the second.

What if you committed the cardinal sin of knitting?

What if you DIDN'T BUY ENOUGH YARN OF THE SAME COLORWAY TO KNIT A PAIR OF FREAKING SOCKS???

Because that's what I did.

And the funny thing is, before I finished this sock yesterday I had two socks nearing completion but not a pair.

So, my strategy is to scour ebay and ravelry and all of the sites where old colorways go to die for the right shade of gray to finish these socks, becuase, as you can see from this photo, the sock really wants a friend to share the sun with...

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And it would have one if I wasn't such a freaking nimrod of a knitter.

Also, I now remember why Saturday was such a blur: Dave and I spend the better part of Saturday morning and into the afternoon walking ALL THE WAY AROUND WHITE ROCK LAKE.

All. The. Way. Around.

That's about 9 miles. Totally crazy-pants. Notice the timing of the hike, too. The very day after I had a mental screw loose over the cellulite on my thighs in the department store dressing room, an event we will now refer to as my Come To Jesus Moment on the condition of my rear. And my hips. Thighs, too.

We started off super optimistic, doing a little jogging here, picking up the pace there, but always returning to a brisk walk. At points, I thought my hip might give out. But, we kept at it, and by God, I was so glad to have that air conditioning on me by the end of it...

So, yeah, that's why I forgot most of Saturday. And I'm thinking that this behavior, my over-exuberant optimism for my own abilities, has something to do with the fact that I have one sock and no hope for another any time soon...

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