It's After Me

That little blue sock is stalking me. I know it. You may think it's just sitting there on the dining room table, but it's after me. I tell myself it's only a few more rows before I can shape the toe and graft it and then I never have to knit another sock in my whole life. A mere 32 stitches a row for maybe 4 or 5 more rows and then I get to decrease down to 6 Kitchener stitches. Yet it hasn't happened. The photo in the previous post? I could post the same one today. The only change would be that Liz (the cat) took out her extreme fascination with blue yarn (and, we have noted over the years, she is only compelled by blue 100% wool yarn) on it.

It's not knitting row after row after row. Since I started the socks, John's Island Embrace Variation II afghan is a good 4 to 6 inches along. That's four to six inches of 120 garter-stitch rows.

It's not knitting in the round. The someday-to-be-steeked cardigan in the round a la Elizabeth Zimmermann that I'm making for the Himself has acquired another 2 or 3 inches. That's 2 to 3 inches at 200 stitches per row.

The sock? With it's paltry 32 stitches in the round? Languishes.

It's clearly not knitting that I'm off of. It's the sock. It's just annoying. All that fiddly stuff with the heel flap. The weird little short rows and decreases to turn the heel. Slogging through further decreases for the gusset. Then round and round like a dementedly boring merry-go-round ride while I try to get the foot to the point where I can end it all. All that and what will I have when I'm done? Not a sweater that's for sure.

Meanwhile it's like those trick portraits where the eyes seem to follow you around the room. Accusingly at that. Pretty soon I'm going to be spending all my time in the kitchen, the front room, the bathroom, the hallways, anywhere that the sock can't see me.