The sock I cast on a week ago has taken me into unexplored territory. "Here be dragons", the pattern ought to read, as I have reached the heel. It's a good idea in these circumstances to take advantage of the local knowledge of a guide, and I have to thank Helen for giving me some tips on the back of her experience of making these socks a few months ago.
Last night I sat in poor light (being too involved in wrapping stitches to move myself to a more suitable location) and was deaf to all requests for help and attention from children, dogs and husband (the latter was manhandling a fridge-freezer up a flight of stairs having just got off a plane after a highly intensive business trip). I callously ignored their entreaties and knitted on.
But finding myself going back and forth, slipping one, knitting one, wrapping one and turning, (and I've done less exhausting eightsome reels than this) in the words of the inimitable Sir Roy Strong I had to "lie down in a darkened room and dab my temples with Floris".
The sock is having a rest, too.
Oh I love that, Karen! I laughed out loud at the sock having a nice rest on its own deckchair (I wish I'd thought of it - I've got one of those deckchairs which never gets used for books). The first sock is always traumatic (says she, the veteran of one and a half pairs...)
Jo
Celtic Memory
Posted by: Jo | 13 October 2006 at 02:47 PM
Karen I take my hat off to you, or perhaps my socks!When the going gets that tough I tend to unravel and revert to my bog-standard can do with eyes shut pattern.These look lovely
Posted by: Lynne Hatwell | 13 October 2006 at 04:52 PM