I'm sorry for the silence. I overdosed on technology last week and have been trying to return my life to a more grounded state. Over the past week, thanks to my partial unemployment and PFSD (post-forum stress disorder), I've been able to indulge in more fiber play than usual.
I've spun up a bunch of odd collections of fibers from The Bellwether, including a totally wild mix from Crosspatch Creations and a Three Bags Full merino/silk/silk noil blend that looked like it'd been rolled around on the barn floor but spun up into total perfection.
Then there was the knitting. In all honestly, I initially hated the yarn I profiled this week, Interlacements Toasty Toes. The color was a noisy clash of orange, red, pink, and purple, with uneven spots where the dye didn't even soak all the way through. The yarn was your standard superwash merino.
But what a joy to knit, so fast and succulent and soft. I decided to swatch a tube to see how the colors knit up. The tube became a sock, and by Friday morning I was done. I washed it (why wait for the second sock, I say?) and the yarn worked its magic, relaxing and softening into a state of buttery (although slightly ill-colored) bliss.
Why is this newsworthy? Because, as a charter member of the Slow Knitters Society, I'm more accustomed to at least one year passing between the time I cast on and finally cast off a project. Of course the next problem is that I'm expected to make two socks, not just one.
Am I the only one with a collection of sad and lonely only-child socks awaiting their siblings?