Before Christmas, I envisioned a series of fabulous, luxurious hand-knit gifts for all the loves of my life. Greatest among these was a plan for matching socks for Burgundy and Julia. That is, the sock designs matched, but Julia would receive pink, and Burgundy black.
Allow me to backtrack and to completely alienate any readers I might have had who are not completely immersed in the Wondrous World of Knitting. I love to knit socks because they're a small enough project to keep my attention for the duration and a large enough project to use as a canvas for Real Knitted Artwork.
In support of and deference to this love of mine, I have joined expensive sock clubs, bought expensive sock yarn, and spent countless dollars on books of sock patterns, sock theories, sock blockers, sock needles, sock dolls, sock monkeys, and arrangements of stitch patterns and formulas to stimulate my own creativity. In so doing, I find myself consistently drawn to the patterns and ideas of the magnificent Cookie A.
Her patterns are intricate, mathematically balanced, and they're remarkable for the way that the architectural and structural lines of the sock itself dissolve into the pattern, becoming a feature to enhance the pattern rather than an element around which the pattern must work in order to insinuate itself onto the sock.
Oh dear. I nerded out, didn't I? Well, last year, Cookie A released the Ellington pattern, and I immediately swooped in and scooped it up. I mean, look at this:
Now I have to tell you that I did not take these photos. They're linked from Cookie's photo feed. I tried and tried to find a photo of my own darn sock that shows the majesty of these beauties, but my photography skills are not sufficient to do justice.
Well, I saw the pattern, and I knew that the girls needed these socks for Christmas. I nearly finished Julia's socks:
And I did finally finish them only three days after Christmas while we vacationed in Austin. Actually, it was while Mark, Burgundy, JB, and Julia vacationed. I spent the whole time in the hotel room puking and pooping and praying. And knitting, I guess. Now that I think about it, I understand why Julia hasn't worn her socks much . . .
s" because I knitted hers in black so she could wear them with her marching band uniform. Sadly, Burgundy has grown accustomed to my ways, what with the quilt for her bedroom and all.
Well, now Ravelympics are upon us. I thought about knitting Burgundy's second sock for the Ravelympics; I really did. I also thought about knitting the second sock from my November sock club package. The one I promised myself I would not knit until I'd finished Burgundy's second sock. As it happens though, neither of these projects have been "hibernating" long enough to qualify for the work-in-progress event.
Alas, no. I'll have to start another project. It breaks my heart, I tell you. However, I have a very definite deadline for this project; shouldn't be any trouble, right? I mean, we see how well I respond to deadlines right?
Hey, why can I hear crickets chirping? Where's my chorus of agreement?