Sneaky Peach

On Saturday, I reached the point in my Tofutsies sock where I should try it on and see if it's time to knit the toe yet. And that's when I made an important discovery: this sock was too small. Not "snug." Not "a little tight." More like "if I don't stop trying to get this thing onto my fat foot I will rip a big hole into it."

It was my own fault, of course; I never once checked my gauge. I was just knittin' a sock, la la la I know how to knit socks, I don't need to check my gauge, and all the while I was getting nine stitches to the inch. Over 60 stitches. Less than 7" around for this sock. Okay, I don't really have fat feet, but they're definitely too big for this sock. I should stop saying "this sock," because it no longer exists. I pulled it apart Saturday night while Miss Dashwood and I were watching "That Thing You Do!" (Excellent music and an adorable drummer eased the pain a bit.)


Now, if I knit on the floor, it doesn't count. I've mentioned this crafting oddity of mine before; it doesn't count if I'm not comfortable. Yes, the finished object is still a finished object, but any knitting time that takes place while I'm sitting on the floor does not have to be declared. I can't explain it, it's just how it is. So here's the idea: I'm on the floor with the new sock until the slack is taken up, because that will mean that I didn't waste a fair whack of time knitting a sock that was too small. Right? Right?! Help me out here. And for crying out loud, don't tell the Knitting Muses that I'm trying to sneak an anklet past them.

The book is there so I can lift the whole thing off the floor when I have to leave it. I may be trying to sneak a sock past the Knitting Muses, but I'm not dumb enough to tempt the cat with that much loose yarn.