You know how it goes . . . there is that one pair of really cute socks in the holiday issue of your favorite knitting magazine that you just have to knit. You sprint out to buy the yarn and the needles and then huddle in your favorite knitting chair with a cup of tea and your thumbed-over pattern to cast on.
You quickly make progress, because the pattern is challenging and engaging. You mess up once, even twice, perhaps a half dozen times, but you rebound quickly because you just have to have these hot little numbers on your feet.
You imagine that you will be wearing them soon. Perhaps in a cute pair of patent-leather Mary Janes. The ones that were made to show off socks like these.
But then something happens. You didn't mean to be unfaithful, but another pattern catches your eye, and besides these socks require concentration and it's always nice to have another project handy that doesn't require concentration. The two projects complement each other and add a hefty bulge to your knitting bag.
Yet despite your best intentions, the Ziploc with the cherry red socks gets lost in the bottom of your knitting bag. Despite the blogs you posted with optimism in the spring and all of that quoting of Shakespeare.
The socks stay unknit. And then August comes around.
Didn't Shakespeare say something about being unknit and undone? Didn't one of his characters rant about it? Google says no, but I, as a knitter, could easily imagine it and take the liberty of twisting his words to suit my situation.
Anyway, the real problem here is not these unfinished socks, per say, it's the fact that I want to start a different pair of socks and that just seems wrong to me. Feels like I'm stepping out (indeed in another pair of socks) or just being plain lazy.
Perhaps I shall knit both socks in tandem.
But that makes me remember the adage I just imagined: she who knits two pairs of socks at the same time ends up barefoot.
Wise words. Wise words.
Although, it is only the middle of August and there is a lot of flip-flop weather still in store for us. I think I'll take the risk (and not even think about the tale of the cricket that cast on and quit all summer.)
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