"What are you doing up?"

My sweetie leaves for work around 5:45. Even if I am awake, I usually wait until after he leaves to start moving around, so that I don't risk getting into his way. Yesterday, I got up earlier. When he asked, I told him that I wanted to get a little work done before the kids woke up, since I was only going into the office for a half day. I spent about ten minutes before he left for arranging work materials, shuffling papers and looking like I was getting ready to work.

I was lying. My plan was to use the quiet time to knit. I wanted to finish those heels, and I needed a decent chunk of uninterrupted time to do so.

I forgot for one day that lying is bad, even a little white lie that doesn't hurt anyone. After my sweetie left, I took a quick shower, got a fresh Diet Coke and settled on the sofa. Before I could even open the knitting bag, I heard my newborn waking up.

Awake baby equals no knitting, and my punishment for lying.

And yet, all was not lost. Last night, I ignored the clean dishes in the dishwasher and the toys scattered on the living room floor, and convenienty forgot the fact that I had told my sweetie that i was going to go grocery shopping after the kids went to sleep, and I knit instead.

The heels are nearly done, and I found them to be easier than I remembered. I was able to modify the generic instructions without any problems, and even the progression of instructions appeared logical to me. A few more rows, and I will be ready to pick up and gusset.

I have a renewed urgency to finish these socks. Grandma ended up in the hospital this week. She broke her leg, so nothing too serious in theory, but at her age, anything can be serious. The surgery to place a rod inside of her thighbone went well, and they are hoping to transfer her to a rehab center sometime in the next day or two. Mom has been spending a lot of time at the hospital with Grandma, hence my part-time hours at the office. Can't watch two kids under 2 in a hospital room all day. We are looking at a month or two at the rehab center before she can go back home.

Wouldn't it be nice if Grandma could have pretty socks when she is at the rehab center?

Today, it is all about the urgency.

Turning the corner. . . .

. . . . and walking right into the math wall. Owing to grandma's aforementioned full-figured feet, these socks are larger than your average, and considering my lack of heel flapping and turning for a number of years, I find myself having to THINK about my heeling. I tried to think of the math myself, then throught that method had too high a margin of error. I have slow enough progress on these socks without doing some parts multiple times. So I tried finding a sock with the same amount of cast on stitches.

Success! Oh, wait, the random sock pattern has 44 stitches, and I have 44 on each side for a total of 88 stitches around. Ok, if I just double all the turning heel directions, I should be OK, right? Right? That is still math, but I feel has increased likelihood of success than me doing it all.

Turn, baby, turn!

Who knew that Sister Anna Marie would be right and I really WOULD need math as a grown up?

Today it is all about turning.

The sound of wings

Do you hear that sound? Far off, in the distance? Listen carefully. Flap. Flap. Flap. I have reached the heel flap on Grandma's socks. Flap. Flap. Flap. The heel is the halfway point of a sock. Clap. Clap. Clap.

The funny thing is. . . I haven't done a heel flap in a while. I have long preferred a short row heel for myself. Grandma's feet are, well, I hate to say "fat", but so it is. So I don't want the tighter fitting short row heels. And now I have to remember and/or look up how to turn a heel. I haven't done so for quite a while, and the only thing that I remember is that I spend the whole time thinking "this can't be right, I must be getting something wrong, this can't be right. . . .oh look, a heel!"

Today, it is all about the "wings" of the socks.