It was this lamentable characteristic of mine that led me to last month's frenzy of finishitude. Sane people do not try to finish five pairs of socks in two weeks. Moreover, project-monogamous people don't have five pairs of socks on the needles at once. (I am well, well aware that my little "problem" is not whatchacall unique. This does offer me some comfort.)
All of this is prologue to a confession. Once I completed my self-imposed sock adventure, did I congratulate myself on a pile of UFOs well conquered and carry the fight back to my knitting basket? My spirit renewed, did I pick up either of the two shawls or the fair-isle cardigan that I began earlier this summer? Or, brave warrior I, did I delve deep into the strata of the geologically improbable mountain composed only of discarded and lonely projects?
Not as such. No.
I immediately cast on a new sock.
You know.
Like you do.
Allow me to introduce you to a modified Jaywalker. These are for my daughter Rhiannon. She specifically requested anklets, so they are a mite shorter than I normally make my socks. The only major mod I made (say that three times fast) was to do a forethought heel, alá Charlene Schurch to preserve the integrity of the stripe. (Yes, I did just say "preserve the integrity of the stripe." Deal.) I finished the first sock in record time, considering that I wasn't power-knitting like I had been for the Ravelympics. The second is cast-on in an attempt to thwart second sock syndrome.
So far, we are pleased.
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