Reasons to keep knitting for winter

Because it's actually not over. The lovely springiness of the weekend fooled me for oh, about a day or so.

This morning after breakfast, I told Sean I was going out to play in the snow.

"Frost, dear," he said. "Frost."

I said, "Dammit. I'll say snow if I want to." I mean, look at this. Sugar coated daffodils. So pretty. 

It reminds me of a story. When Adele and I were kids, we saw sugar coated violets on a chocolate cake in a book. We were fascinated.

The next time I saw a small purple flower, being the deviant big sister I was (and arguably, still am), I made her eat it. God only knows what it was. Perhaps she's lucky to be alive. Maybe there's a deadly purple flower out there masquerading as a violet.

It's a good thing English spinach is frost tolerant, that's for sure.

It's incredibly difficult to photograph you're own two besocked feet while standing out in the snow frost trying not to fall over and wondering if your not-yet-blow-dryed hair is going to freeze solid to your head. But these are my new Purple Trainwreck socks. If you're late to the party, this is a colour created by Julie, aka The Samurai Knitter. It was, if my memory serves me correctly, a happy accident.

This is my second pair, although the first were Monkey Socks. The first, tragically, were felted. I've never recovered from the loss and so Julie made some more for me. 

I made these mostly in Alice Springs, which is kinda funny when you think about it. They've been in the red centre, and now they're standing in the frosty wonder of a Canberra morning. Love it.

I like the detail shots best (there's a surprise) but here's how the back yard looks this morning, in a blanket of white. It's not really snow, but isn't that what imaginations are for?

Bells

ps RoseRed, bring your winter woolies.