I'm No Expert, But.....

...I'm pretty sure that this just ain't right. I'm not entirely sure what I mean by that--whether it's the sock that's not right, or the giggling person with the camera and the filthy mind....but one of us is definitely off.

In truth, I still pretty much like the sock and, if I don't, I feel certain it would find a good home with Marianne, who already loves it (although she may change her mind when she sees what it's been up to since she saw it last). And it really does fit, even though it appears that it might not fit.....well, a foot, exactly. The stitch pattern pulls it in quite enthusiastically and I keep trying it on, certain that this time it will induce gangrenous toes, but no. It keeps cheerfully stretching out over my foot and leg. It may be a nasty little bugger, but it's happy about it. I'll turn the heel tonight and see if I still like it, or if it's going to pack its bags and go live with Marianne.

It rained here today (which explains the progress on the....er...sock, yes, it's a sock) and, while only a week ago I was quite weary of the sogginess, today I all but rolled around in the wet grass and whinnied, for the sheer joy of knowing that I could not do any yard work today (and would, instead, be limited to yarn work). It will likely make the damned grass grow again but, on the bright side, it may also drown the rhubarb, so I'm good with that. Which reminds me--a thank you to all of you who kindly sent me recipes with the idea of transforming the rhubarb into something that passes for edible. Since I have an idea that it probably WON'T drown (hell, the stuff could probably withstand a nuclear bomb), I will definitely give your ideas a try. I think it's rather like putting lipstick on a pig but don't ever say I won't give a thing a try. Besides, I imagine even pigs like to feel pretty once in awhile.

Meanwhile, the outdoor fur people have mostly migrated inside:




where I rather suspect they're dreaming of dominion over the thumbless ones, and wondering how to work the can opener. (I can't recall where I read the phrase "thumbless ones" but it's had me in stitches ever since. If it was you, sing out so I can bow down at your feet.) Miss is also nestled quite handily in my knitting spot where she has apparently grown a taproot.

In other words, in this entire day at Asylum du Knitingale, none of the following things have happened:

Nothing has blown up
Nothing has spewed any sort of foul substance
Nothing has bitten or stung me
Nothing has become embedded in my skin
Nothing has leaped from my hands to commit glassy sepaku on the kitchen floor
I have not fallen down OR up the stairs
No data has been irretrievably lost
I have not stepped in stain and had to hop around frantically so as not to get it on the off-white carpet (that would have left it WAAAAAY off white)
I have not polyurethaned the door and then immediately pushed it closed by placing my hand directly on the sticky surface
I have not somehow wrapped myself or a cat in blue painters tape
I have not failed to empty the lint trap in the dryer until it was forced to make itself a little lint quilt
I have not run into a spider swinging gleefully from a tree in tarzanlike fashion and hoping to land on my face and in order to induce screaming.
I have not washed Mr. K's unmentionables with the red towels, thus making them even less mentionable
I have not set fire to anything whatsoever
I have not had to fish around in the garbage disposal for a fork or spoon
I have not eaten my weight in gummi bears (let's leave chocolate out of this for the moment, though, 'kay?)
I have not dropped my keys in the recycle bin
I have not dropped the litterbox cleanings in the recycle bin
I have not in any way antagonized the recycle bin
I have not worn two different colored shoes
I have not giggled madly at the sight of a molehill at the foot of a tree, due to the rather cartoonish picture of a mole tunneling at high speed into the tree trunk and emerging with a lump on its head and a bunch of stars and tweeting birds circling around it
I have not gone to the store hungry and purchased $47 worth of snack food when I actually went in to buy conditioner
I have not harassed the lady at the LYS with the desperate plea to let me work for yarn
I have not encountered a single whacked animal in the garage or on the porch
I have not called anyone and said "Um.....I'm sorry, who have I just called?"
I have not attempted to substitute m & m's for any meal

In other words, it has been a quiet day in which the most unusual thing that's happened is that I've made a rude and amusing sock.....and I'm deeply concerned. I think the universe is trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Watch for mushroom clouds over my house tomorrow. This much peace and quiet can only be a ploy.

p.s. although nothing on that list happened today.....you can be assured that nearly all of them have, in fact, happened to me at one time or another. Especially the m & m thing.

p.p.s. I discovered the British Pantry, not four miles from my home. Dudes....those little Galaxy caramel eggs? You guys are SO responsible for the size of my ass.