I've still not begun these socks. I think the holdup is the cast on--It's a difficult one for my wrist AND for my eyes. I'll take the yarn to work with me today, and hope to get something done on them, but I think I will change the cast on to a knitted on cast on, then k2tog, k2tog, p2tog, p2tog, instead, since I don't particularly care for the k1, p1 look on socks, preferring k2, p2 instead. This knitted cast on might make an easier first row as opposed to the long tail cast on that I learned as a child--I also considered casting on to a larger needle, but the look of the finished article is sloppy, and I might decide to go down yet another needle size if I don't like the look I get with the knitted cast on. I also considered a provisional cast on, as well as a bohus, which is sort of like a double knit edge like on my dk hat...more work, meaning less time.
There's also the issue that my Father In Law would like a cap--now that he has no hair from chemotherapy--I found a great hat, and have JUST the yarn for it in stash--but I'm scared if I knit it for him, he'll die--
(I had a really good friend of mine--made a beautiful quilt for her, she died within 2 weeks of giving it to her...so you can see why I get scared when I make things for people--)
So this morning, my husband decided to wake me up to tell me something, laughing when he scared the bejesus out of me, turning on the light in total darkness and yelling my name. I think I pulled an exorcist--I lifted off the bed an entire foot!
BOY WAS I MAD!
I mean, it's not enough that I wake during the night, several times, then have trouble getting back to sleep--when I DO get some quality sleep time, he's got to ruin it for me....soo..
I'm just going to pull it on him. Maybe I'll poke him from the other room with a broom handle so that I don't get WHACKED doing it--but let him start snoring in his chair, get the broom, poke him (not softly either!) and yell at him--rather than by the name I usually call him, but by his GIVEN name, which I never use--
And then stand there and laugh at him when he falls out of his chair to the floor?
What do you think? Is turnabout fair play? Afterward, I can let him know that paybacks are a terrible thing, you know? Maybe he won't pull his freaking little cruel jokes on me anymore.
And with that, I let the dog into the house, wipe her little feets, and gather my belongings to head to the office. It's going to be a long day!