This a short entry because I have to go shave my head. Around here, that's the equivalent of visiting the colorist or getting a comb-and-blow-out.
I want to look my best, such as it is, because tonight's the "Meet the Bloggers" event at Arcadia Knitting (1613 W. Lawrence). The party officially begins at 7 p.m., though I intend to arrive early and put a considerable dent in an Arcadia gift certificate I got from a lady in my office.
There are going to be prizes and food and who knows what else. Pin the tail on the blogger? I'm tossing two signed and matted cartoon prints into the prize mix.
Unfinished Objects With Which I Am Cohabiting: First in a Series
Don't pay any attention to my little works-in-progress list in the sidebar. It's about as up-to-date as a Vogue fall preview from 1983. I'll get to it, I'll get to it.
What I'm really working on right now is this:
For those who live in the Amazon jungle and go barefoot all the time, it's a sock. Not my first sock, technically, as long ago I did great violence to my soul by knitting one as dictated by the multi-page Queen's English formula in Mary Thomas's Knitting Book. I've always been a fan of working from historic sources, and wanted to knit a sock the way it might have been done in England during World War II. By the time I finished the heel turn I was wishing for a direct hit from a German mortar.
So I took a break, and left socks alone until the last night of Knitting Camp, when I measured my foot and cast on, this time following the more gentle path of Charlene Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks, a present from good ol' Ted. And wouldn't you know, this time it's fun. So much fun I can't put the thing down. As you can see, I'm on the home stretch for the toe shaping.
While we're on the subject of socks, I'd like to say a word, if I may, to the yarn shop owners out there.
Hi! I'm a man! I'm finding I like sock knitting quite a bit. I am prepared to lay out serious cash in order to acquire good sock yarn for future projects.
Unfortunately, in your shops all I find are self-patterning sock yarns and sock yarns in "fun" variegated colorways.
As mentioned above, I am a man. As a man, I would prefer not to wear socks in "fun" colorways. I do not seek enjoyment from the wearing of my socks. They need not be "fun." On the contrary, I would prefer that my socks conduct themselves at all times with the sober dignity of a Shaker eldress. I have no use for socks with precious little hearts or snazzy lightning bolts on them. I do not wish for socks that recall the dazzling palette of Monet. I want socks that are, for example, black. Or gray. Or navy blue.
No, not black with "fun" variegations of purple. Just black. Or gray. Or navy blue. Brightly colored socks are one of the signs of a cad, and I don't want to give myself away so easily.
Please, for the love of God, consider giving over six inches of precious shelf space to plain, male-oriented sock yarns, so that I can knit socks I can wear. For reference, this colorway is borderline acceptable and will probably still have to live mostly inside a nice, tall engineer boot.
And please don't suggest that I could knit socks in "fun" colorways for my mother and sister. My mother won't wear wool next to the skin and my sister can knit her own socks.
Thank you for your kind attention.