Thoughts on a Rainy Saturday

16 attempts later, I nearly sort of kind of in a way more or less have a picture of the sock I started yesterday:

I realize it looks quite a bit like blue spaghetti....but all the other photos would have required that you move your heads really fast while looking at them in order to compensate for the blur. We can safely say that I am somewhat technically challenged, as long as we allow that "somewhat" in this sentence is much the same as "somewhat" in the sentence "my friend was somewhat pregnant with quads". Anyway, what this pile of blue spaghetti is attempting to show you is a pattern called "Eagle's Flight", which was free with yarn purchase from Angora Valley Farms(LOVE those people) and I adore the pattern but I suspect that the yarn is a bit too dark to really show it off. Now I can't decide if I want to start a new pattern (and save this one for a different yarn) or start a new yarn (and save this one for a different pattern). And, you know, the fate of the world hangs in the balance until I make this crucial decision.

Decisiveness has long been a bit of a problem for me...as long as we allow that "a bit" in this sentence is a lot like saying the friend mentioned above is a bit pregnant. (I don't really have a friend carrying four babies around...I just thought it made a nice metaphor, although probably not so much for the metaphorical, pregnant chick.) It's largely because I just KNOW that if I choose the turkey sandwich, I'll end up wishing I'd had the soup. And vice versa. Likewise, if I take this blue pasta apart and start making Jaywalkers out of it instead (I think I'm safe...the yarn doesn't really have enough color variation to make nasty pooling a problem), it's a cinch that I'll be 10 rows into it and wishing I'd picked other yarn so I could be working on the Eagle's Flight pattern. I know. If I had an ounce of normalcy about me, it would escape by any means possible in search of someone--anyone--even remotely like itself. I accept this.

On the bright side, I did finish the Mt. Creek socks:

And I still adore them, even though it appears that the second skein had significantly more of the aqua color in it than the first. I've decided to tell myself that they have character, as opposed to telling myself that smart knitters sometimes check little things like "dye lot". I know quite a few smart knitters...but apparently none of you have rubbed off on me.

Other somewhat random thoughts for today, in no particular order:

Forget building a better mousetrap--if they ever invent cat-barf-resistant carpet, I am SO there. Given the fact that most of Mr. K's socks are apparently cat barf magnets, I believe that he would support my doing anything necessary to obtain such a magical thing.

Have you ever noticed that the guys who think that all women should look like Miss February only with even bigger breasts are usually the same guys sporting a belly that would put my metaphorical, four-baby-carrying friend to shame? And often already have the bigger breasts themselves?

Speaking of breasts, I used to date a guy ("used to" is a key phrase here) who made the comment that all small breasted women should get implants because "they would look so much better" , and that even knowing they were fake wouldn't make him enjoy them any less. He wasn't the slightest bit amused when I tossed him a ziploc bag full of salty water and told him to "knock yourself out". I think that's where the "used to" thing kind of came into play.

I often wish the dryer would quit yelling at me and just fold the damned clothes already. I mean, I must have shown it how at least a hundred times by now.

I understand that the famous groundhog, Punxatawney Phil, didn't see his shadow yesterday and so we will apparently get to have a shorter winter. This seems like kind of a waste of magical thinking to me. Why not have Dubya come out and find out if he sees HIS shadow? Then, if he doesn't, we get spared 8 more weeks of idiocy. If he does....well, if he does, then let's try it with Cheney. He can't see a lawyer in the woods in an orange vest...he probably can't see his shadow, either.

If they ever made a reality TV show about my life, it would have to be called something like "Oh, look. She's Knitting Again." It might be good tv for the middle of the night, though...put insomniacs right to sleep. I would think counting wool could be just as good as counting the whole sheep.

I saw a news article today that said a gym in Holland is going to start having a naked exercise day, most likely on Saturdays. 'Cause, you know, what's more attractive than a sweaty naked person on an exercise bike? I'm half Dutch...but I don't think it's the naked half.

I know that the best things in life are free and all...but I think that a drawer full of merino sock yarn isn't half bad, either.

Happy knitting to one and all. May your Saturday be as lovely and random as my own.