Last night the beagle was snoozing in a low chair. I crouched down by it to pet her when all of a sudden Daughter #2 is tickling my ribs from behind. Back in the day, I would have whirled around and tickled back.
I couldn't move from the crouch.
Then I fell over sideways.
Translation: life is short; knitting socks is not my thing; knitting lace is my thing. I will, therefore, no longer waste my time in idle daydreams about Cookie A.'s socks at knitty.com. It's not meant to be. I did actually knit one entire sock a couple of days ago just to see if I could turn the heel. Yep, did it. I don't get the allure.
I'm a lace knitter but not a lace sock knitter.
I knew just the project for right now: the North Sea Shawl from Folk Shawls by Cheryl Oberle. Intricate, kinda, but mindless, too. So after a day of editing the manuscript of a book my husband and I have written together (anthropology written for a wide audience), I looked at my husband/co-author and said, "I want new wool".
"Okay," Tom said. "I'll come with."
He has an impeccable sense of color. I explained to Tom that the North Sea Shawl mimics the movement of waves.
We went to the dreaded Herrschner's because it's that, WalMart, or Michael's here. A good yarn store deserves a nice, long visit. Not Herrschner's. How those people are still in business, I have no idea. Your Source for Day-Glo and Pastel Acrylic. A few good yarns like Noro, 90% time warp from the Bad Old Days before the yarn renaissance.
Because the selection of nice yarns is limited, Tom found a terrific one for my North Sea Shawl in three minutes flat. It's Reynolds Whisky 100% wool, Color 053. It's an oceany blue with a little purple and a little brown in it - not variegated but a DK-weight tweed to knit up on #5s.
I cast on this evening.