I will work on the lace. I'm to the point where I had to think about how I was going to connect it at the wrist, and about decreases. I sort of have that process in my head now, and I figured out the decreases. I'm really hoping that I don't have to frog. I'd really hate to have to frog lace.
I have to go back and pick up a dropped stitch about 10 rows ago on moms socks. I'll be ripping that back tonight.
Dad's black socks? You'll notice how I have not spoken of those in a while. Well, I had son 1 try them on, and they fit fine, so they ought to do right on dad's slightly smaller feet, however...I just don't like that thread reinforced eye of partridge heel. The fabric is awfully stiff, and thick. I don't think dad will enjoy wearing them, because all he will feel is the heel. I've been contemplating ripping back all week to the heel, but when they were tried on, and the ankles were a little baggy (Dad's ankles are possibly slighter than even son1's) as well as the heel, well darn it, I've a mind to rip back the whole sock, and go back to the infinitely comfortable toe up peasant heel. Then again, I could leave them as is, finish the second one, and give them to son1, and just do dad's in that really nice Lornas Laces yarn burning a hole in the big box o' yarn. Its pewter coloured, which will be a whole lot more fun than black.
If I didn't have the crochet afghan to work on, and have the hardanger pillow top in the wings, all' I'd be doing is ripping or praying that I won't have to rip.
Some weeks, sometimes even months are like that when you do needlework. You work and work, and then realize that it was not even up to your most feeble standards. You are faced with the choice of putting it aside, and letting it think about it faults for a while, or you can boldy take out the flaw this very second.
In the real world you seldom get a do over, mistakes even when corrected can haunt you for years, can still influence final outcomes. Words and actions, even the lack of words and action, can't be taken back.
Needlework gives you the chance, in one tiny corner of your life, to correct, to go back, to where it's once again perfect, virginal, as if nothing ever was wrong with any stitch you ever placed. You are renewed, refreshed and clean.
Needlework is like boldly going where no man has gone before, but you look like the crew member who usually dies in the first minutes of an episode, only you don't die, you really are Captain Kirk, (or maybe Mr. Spock), some alien took over your body, made all those mistakes, but you vanquished him, and are back in charge.
Bet you never dreamed this would end with a Star Trek analogy.