Friday, 2 November 2007

Counting socks! And other ways to cure insomnia.

Last night started out well. I went to SnB where a small but fabulous group of us had a perfectly delightful evening.

It rained the whole time which, as must now be clear, was incredibly welcome considering how dry winter was. To feel moisture in the air is spectacularly good on many levels.

I went to bed at about 10pm, read for some time to finish the book I've been reading (Desiree by Annemarie Selinko), then woke up with a start around 1:30am after presumably about 1.5 hours' sleep.

Why I didn't just get up after half an hour and knit for a while is beyond me. Instead I lay there believing sleep would come. It didn't. I even tried a trick that worked a few nights ago. Counting socks. Early in the week I woke up in the morning remembering the last thing I'd been thinking about was how many pairs of socks I've made since my first pair almost a year ago. (The answer is 13, for the record.)

Finally at 3am I got up, switched on the telly, worked on my sister's Christmas present and watched an unbelievably bad 1960s cop show set in Melbourne, the plot of which involved the wife of a businessman protesting against pollution.

Eventually it was decided that she wasn't really angry about pollution (being a woman and all); she was in fact upset about her husband's not so secret affair with a hussy called Jan. At one point she tried to gas herself in the lounge room with the gas heater. Racy stuff. I was enthralled. It sure as hell beat the country music infomercial that seemed to go on forever every time I switched channels.

Still, it has to be said I got a lot of the project done. It's something I'm really happy with and am loving making because I think Adele will love it. If she doesn't, there'll be trouble.

I leave you with this. A pretty sock I'm making from Knitterly Things Vesper Sock Yarn (which was a gift from Mad, Mad Rachel in Boston).

And yes, I'm back to DPNs after a brief fling with magic loop. It's true love.

The pattern is Dublin Bay and it's so lovely. You can only just see it in the photo but there's a ladder of lace up each side of the sock, just enough to make a self striping yarn something more than just plain stockinette. Since it's for me, I can show it, amidst all the unshowable gift knitting.