So, I was having that ongoing problem with socks just plain not working out that I mentioned.  I did some soul-searching, talked to some other sock knitters about possible solutions, and decided on a plan.  The plan involved some frogging, some math, and some generosity.

Now we’ve reached the generosity segment of my recovery process.  I purposely made a pair of socks that are far too small for me, using some of my nicest yarn, Silkie STR in Lunasea.  I purposely made them too small so I’d be forced to give them away–I’ll scale down too-large socks to fit my feet without even realizing I’m doing it, or talk myself into viewing them as a second-layer sock for hiking.  Hence, small socks.

These are truly too small for me:

See, a sock that fits me is like an elder sister to this diminutive charmer.

Now, I have to make sure they fit the person I intend them for.  If not, I guess I’ll go searching for their one true foot.  Er, two true feet.  Right and Left.  I hope they fit someone I really like, because these are soft and warn and itchless.  And yet, they are not, nor will they ever be, mine.  Sigh.  Godspeed, little socks.

Also, Lady of the Lake is burning on the needles. 

Body–check.  Collar–check.  I’d have started a sleeve last night, but I forgot to bring a shorter needle with me when I went to knit with the girls.  I’m still struggling with its muppetiness, but it is lovely to work on.  Which is good, because we just got another shipment of Geeklactica DVDs and I’m also obsessively listening to Into Thin Air on CD.  A girl needs something to do with her hands when she’s alternately fretting over imaginary wars in space and tragedies on Everest that have already happened and are thus un-fixable.  I can’t intercede in either, but I can certainly knit warm things while demanding that my loved ones neither climb mountains nor get wrapped up in intergalactic wars with cylons.

Man, I am a GEEEEEEK. 

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