Bon Tricot

This week, I powered through Second Sock Syndrome and cast off some stripey socks.  I used a colorway called M&Ms.   Despite being named for a particular candy, the colors were warm and autumnal, not sugary or sweet, which also seems to sum up my overall experience knitting them.   The excitement of knitting a second sock is never the same as the first.  And if it weren’t for the KAL I’m participating in where you knit a pair of socks each month, I probably would have put my M&Ms aside because life is too short to knit something you’re just "eh" about.  This is the first time I can remember a yarn having such a sharp, acidic smell.  I don’t know if some type of molecule was trapped inside the plastic bag used to ship this skein or if the heat and humidity (since these were primarily knit outdoors – at a concert, at two baseball games, and the beach) drew out the smell, but at times, I felt like I was knitting with fiber doused in vinegar or maybe balsamic dre

We just returned from a week at the beach.  In keeping with tradition's past, I over-packed the knitting projects.  I took two sock WIPs, and three, yes you read that correctly, three skeins of sock yarn, with the expectation that I would knit an additional three pairs of socks, despite knowing my monthly sock output is two and half pairs.  Oh, and did I mention that I tucked in my Claire Randall shawl – the one I have yet to cast on? Nope?  Well, I did.  Honestly, my knitting could have taken up its very own suitcase, and well, it kinda, sorta did.   And the best way to describe my knitting last week is simply - beached.  I accomplished very little. But I was successful on other fronts, namely just being a mom.  My days were spent with the kids, who at 4 and 7, are not likely to sit in their age-appropriate beach chairs and watch the waves roll in.  Our days started early and ended late.  We swam in the ocean, built sandcastle kingdoms, searched for seashells, and mini-golfe

I cast off my Harold and the Purple Crayon socks this week.  I purchased the yarn, not so much for the color, but for the book it celebrates.  While there’s nothing wrong with purple, and truth be told, I used to love that color, I have grown less enamored with it the older I get. Desert Vista Dyeworks Harold and the Purple Crayon Of course it’s not purple’s fault.   Purple’s innocent, a victim of color crime, if you will.   See, in my circle of work, people have manipulated and exploited this color to justify behaviors that, in other professional settings, would not be tolerated.   For me, purple conjures obstinacy, entitlement, and narcissism.   You may wonder what could happen to taint this color.  Well about ten years ago, a former colleague introduced me to her passion for purple pigment.  Perhaps passion is not strong enough.  She worshipped at the altar of purple.   She organized her entire life around it.  She said it was freeing; it simplified the number of