I'm still working on this sock.
Proof I am a simple sort perhaps, but it really is fascinating. What amazes me is that here I am, on my umpteenth plain sock and I still find the changes in the yarn keeps me occupied and interested. And in this particular yarns case, I keep having the urge to giggle. There is something about this hot pinky fuschia, turquoise and sedate green and creams with rust and orange to top it off that just makes me happy.
I like plain socks. I like wearing plain socks. I like knitting plain socks. I am a plain person who loves they way a plain knitted sock looks on my foot. I have umpteen on the needles,
I have knit miles of plain. Plain plain, plain, and yet I am not tired of the endless stockinette. It just works. It is respite and rest from whatever else I am doing. It travels and keeps me company when I wait. It hugs my feet and snuggles up to my toes in the nicest possible way. I love a good plain sock.
And yet, this sock below, this long greenish monstrosity is making me batty.
I think this is the first sock yarn that I ought to have knit a pattern into. This is the first sock yarn I have knit with that doesn't speak, doesn't talk to me, doesn't even pass by with a wave and a smile. It just sits there. Its Patons Stretch and I have a ton of it in my stash, and now I am going to have to knit a monkey sock or something just to use it up.
This is a pretty yarn. It is wonderfully coloured, and yet somehow, colours or no, they missed the boat. Sigh. And I really wanted to like it.