I’m cold and, frankly, miserable. Sad and difficult stuff. Stuff that pokes at my “yeah, yeah, all in the past, gotta be strong, worse things happen at sea” veneer and makes me howl as said veneer collapses after a brief but bitter struggle. Makes me want to go to bed and sleep for weeks, months, years.
So I’m compromising. Ok, I say, let’s howl. It’s not a weak and snivelling concession of victory to the forces of darkness and nihilism, I say. Really, it isn’t. (Gotta work harder on this one.) Instead of going to bed I’ll curl up on the sofa under a blanket (with the hot(waterbottle)dog of course). And instead of sticking fingers in a wound the nature and extent of which I don’t really understand I’ll do knitting stuff. Because that makes me happy. Even when howling. And it’s national knitting week.
So here are my beautiful malabrigo socks, just finished. So warm, so soft, so gorgeous in every respect. I’m wriggling my toes in them as I type.
I’m glad, of course, that the boys love their socks. I can understand it, having some of my own. So much warmer and more comfortable than shop-bought. But with great love comes… great holes. And darning. In fact this one had to have a whole new bit of heel knitted in to the gaping void which had been worn through the bottom.
I have to confess to a certain amount of impatience with children’s socks, though. Because really what I want to do is make more for ME. The autumn Knitty is out and there are some storming patterns – Garden Gate, Interlocking Leaves and Hourglass for a start. Not to mention the other hourglass sock project, Los Pequeñeos de Arena over at the AntiCraft.
And there’s also the blanket, hovering in the background, awaiting further strips.
So much knitting, so little time.