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Sockage

The sock family.

My father looks as though he has elephantiasis because his sock was retrieved from the laundry basket and he insisted on putting it on over the thick one he was already wearing.

FirstSpawn’s sock has a huge hole under the heel (not visible in this picture) because he’s been wearing it almost constantly since he got it, half the time sliding around on wooden floors without shoes on. He has ordered me to darn it. I have ordered him to take more care of it.

The next sockage will be long ones for my father probably based on this golf hose pattern which dates from when he was two years old.

It is, in our collective experience, quite true that hand-knitted socks are warmer and more comfortable than shop bought.

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Colour

It was so ridiculously sunny and warm today. And it was the first day back at the shrink after the Easter break occasioning a couple of miles of walking equipped with the camera. What I notice most about the pictures I took today is the vibrant colours. Sunlight and flowers. A winning combination.

forget-me-not

Forget-me-nots were my favourite flower as a child. Small, shy, retiring, a brilliant blue and signifying the sort of love and tenderness I believed might exist somewhere.

keria

I still remain stubbornly convinced (despite the evidence of this picture) that keria blooms are orange. F claims they are yellow.

pink stuff

I don’t know what this stuff is called, but it’s gloriously, fabulously pink and what after all could be more important than that.

I saw men wearing shorts and innumerable individuals of all ages and sexes in diaphanous, truncated tops. The weather forecast is for snow over the weekend.