I haven't done much. I went out to Kentucky yesterday to spend the day with some friends (they work at Appalshop -- a neat place!) and didn't get back until this afternoon. I brought my geranium jaywalkers with me and worked a little more on the ankle, but not enough to warrant a picture. I did join the sock-a-month knitalong. I figure I'm already on a roll, have a headstart for January, and why shouldn't everyone in my family have handknit socks? Really!
I do have a question (though I'm not sure there is anyone, yet, to answer it). My question is this:
Did I do something wrong? I've never knit socks from the toe up before and I don't know if this is normal or whether I cast on wrong or read the directions wrong or what... Do I stitch this together when I finish the sock? I know I can fix it in the end, but I'd like to " do it right" next time.
It's flurrying outside right now... the sun keeps coming in and out of the clouds and when it hits the snow, it looks like iridescent glitter. Pretty. That's one of many positive things I can say for my experience down here in the mountains -- even the cold and dreary days are positively beautiful. And the sunny days -- they're breath taking. It's almost enough to make this die-hard city girl move to the mountains for good. Almost.
Ok. I need to go practice my banjer and maybe knit a little more on my elfines before heading out to a jam tonight. But I leave you with this: gratuituous kitten shots.
This is Hank (named for Hank Williams, of course -- the greatest country music singer EVER). This is Hank's favorite place to sit. He knows he's not allowed to sit on my desk, so he's taken to sitting with his tush on my lap and his front paws on the desk top. That way, he obeys the rules and he can still watch the cursor move around the screen.
Phoebe is Hank's little sister. She likes to sit in the tiny bit of space between my back and the back of my desk chair. Sometimes I forget she's there (not good). Other times, it's like having a living heat pad on the small of my back.
My tinies are five months old and absolutely sweetpeas (except that Phoebe likes to maliciously nibble apart the one strand of yarn that connects my knitting project to the ball of yarn. She doesn't chew any other yarn. Just that one string. She's done it five times now. It would drive me crazy if she weren't so damn cute).