Well, yes, I did go a *bit* past two rounds. But you see, I was having my private fight with the demons known as (looks furtively over shoulder and whispers hoarsely) homespun.
Here's the state of the sock as she now exists:
This is a yarn that I bought in Lancaster County, PA; it's from Labadie Looms, and they have a nice rack in the middle of the store with all these hanks of handpainted sock yarn; it's a tiny bit rough while I'm working with it, but when it's washed, it is delightful for the foots.
Here she is again:
(Yeah, I'm so totally just trying to practice the photography stuff. It's a Kodak Easy Share. 'Nuff said.)
Thank you for the comments, whether thought or typed. It is the last chapter in the saga, and I was reluctant to put it out there. But this blogging? Always on my mind, like a little outlet to say what I have all mushed up inside of me in a somewhat straightforward way. And the best part is, there isn't a pair of eyes opposite mine getting that deer in the headlights look and praying I'll end this story as quickly as possible. The Hubby and the Girls are wonderful, but how patient do they need to be? It's my wound, I need to itch it in private. Well, semi-private.
So yeah, the homespun hell. Is there a more splitty, squeaky, unpleasant yarn out there? I kid you not, it took me ELEVEN freakin' tries to get a gague that wouldn't require knitting with two logs I pulled outta the woodpile. As it is, I'm using 10 1/2 US needles and I hate the result. I'll be interested to see if anyone else is having problems with this, or if they'll insist that the yarn is fine, it must be me. Then I'll KNOW they're lying!
It was nice to have a day off from school with the Girls; they're still off tomorrow while I go back. I love my job, but I really love staying home, too - makes for good knitting time. Those pesky people at school just don't understand that knitting time should really be worked into everyone's school schedule. Just think how happy we'd all be if we had a full 40-minute period for the solitude and serenity of knitting.
ah. . . . .