Playing and Punishment

I played hookie yesterday. I closed up the office after lunch (being the boss, I can do that). It was 70 and sunny in mid-March, and that just doesn't happen very often in Indiana, so I was not going to pass up this opportunity. The open road was calling. I met my sweetie when he was off work, and we took the bike out. His bike, since mine is still experiencing electrical issues that haven't miraculously healed themselves in the past week. (I have decided to not to bother with fixing them until after the wedding. Just one more thing to worry about and pay for, so it can wait until May.) However, this was the first time that I have really ridden as a passenger since I got my own ride. It was an interesting experience.

Now, I knew that there would be a price to pay. I knew that I would have to get to the neglected work on my desk first thing this morning. I didn't know that feeling the sun on my cheeks and the wind in my, er, helmet, would exact knitting retribution. I finished the first Secret Wedding Sock last night. Everything except Kitchner-ing the seam. Except. . . I measured it, and it is an inch longer than my sweetie's foot. I briefly considered trying to put the sock on his foot to verify while he slept, but abadoned this notion as I would probably wake him up. I had already measured his foot, and should trust my measurements, right? Except that I obviously couldn't trust the measurement of the sock that I swear read 8 1/4 inches before I started the toe, and now somehow reads 9 inches. (insert scream of frustration here)

So the plan for the day: attack the files on my desk, put the nearly finished sock on hold on extra needles while I figure out if I am going to rip, start the second sock as planned, and slip something into his dinner ("No, dear, you eat, I will just have a salad tonight") so I can try the sock on him in a futile attempt to not have to rip out four hours of work, then, um, rip out four hours of work.

It was worth it. . . . .

Today it all about the playing.