"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.

What sock?

No, Grandma, these socks are for me. Aren't they a pretty red color?

Socks for you? I am not knitting socks for you. Are you sure you are remembering right?

Pastel rainbow socks? No, I knit you a pastel rainbow vest a number of years ago? Are you sure you aren't thinking of that?

I am not knitting you socks right now. I don't knit socks for other people, only myself.

No, the socks that you tried on before were for me, I just wanted to see how they looked on someone else's feet.

No, I think I would remember if I were knitting socks for you. You must be remembering wrong.

Bye, Grandma, see you tomorrow.

Don't worry, I wouldn't really have this conversation even if I thought I could get away with it. And I will continue to resist the temptation to bind off and try to convince Grandma that I was knitting her ankle warmers and not socks.

Today, it is all about evil fantasies of denial.

Dreaming in Color

I have heard that some people dream in color, and some people dream in black and white. I am a color person. I think it would be cruel for a knitter to not be able to dream in color, but I digress.

I dreamed about knitting recently. I am apparently so sick of Grandma's socks in progress, I am now dreaming of starting something new. The yarn was a gorgeous silky soft something in stardard rainbow colors with a very long color repeat. At first, I was thinking scarf. Then my dreaming self realized that there was enough yarn for a wrap, and that would show off the vibrant colors better. I decided to work side to side, to make the color progression even more dramatic. Actually now that I think about it, the colors may not have repeated at all. I think it just worked through the rainbow once, with my wrap starting with purple on one side and ending with red on the other.

I dreamed that I tried on the wrap, so that I was certain the pattern idea and yarn would work together. Then I cast on. Dreams are just magic. And I will have to keep an eye out for this yarn. I could always dye it myself, since I have been, um, dying to attempt dyeing (Sorry, couldn't resist). I have the dyes and blank yarn, picked up used for a song. But dyeing requires (child free) time, and that is a rare commodity these days.

Apparently, my dreaming self has more knitting time and variety than my real self. I am jealous.

Today, it is all about envying yourself.

Assessment

Background: Patient was discovered by her husband face-down on the sofa with two unfinished knitted sicks clutched in one hand, and saliva dripping down one side of her chin.

Evaluation: Patient reports boredom, annoyance and frustation with the current sock in progress. Patient became defensive and agitated at the suggestions that she simply work on a different project for a while. "Don't you know the pressure of a knitting request from a 93-year-old grandmother?" Patient admitted to "accidently" leaving the sock project in odd places, for the excuse to work on a different project for a day or evening until the socks could be retrieved.

Diagnosis: Project Interest Deficit Syndrome (PIDS), time-pressured variety.

Treatment: Unfortunately, the only known cure for PIDS is a variety of pending projects. When forced by a deadline for complete focus on one project, the only hope is for the project to finish before the knitter suffers a complete breakdown.

Notation: The most severe case of PIDS on record ended with a permanent restraining order entered by the local yarn store after the knitter was discovered rolling naked in a large pile of alpaca and cashmere after breaking into the store in the middle of the night.

Today, it is all about the psyche.

Put your hands up and step away from the math

In mostly stolen moments, I have been working on Grandma's socks. I have cycled through the yarn's stripe pattern twice and estimate that I have one more to go before I can do my heels. The heels mark a halfway point in the socks, so I am 2/3's through the first half. That means I am . . . . 1/3 finished with both socks. When you like that, it doesn't sound like very much to show for two months' work. This would normally be the point when I would put the socks away for a while and work on something else, just for a change of scenery. But these socks have a deadline. I have to finish them by. . . well, no specific date, but as soon as possible. Grandma's feet are always cold, so they are just as needed in the summer as the winter.

Today, it is all about the thirds.