one and three-quarters measure of sock goodness…
The Sock Love Returns, at any and all waiting moments of my life!
The heart grew cold for awhile and my 2003 Sock Bender ground to a halt when I started these socks. This was the first sock yarn I ever purchased and it is, well, sort of uninspiring. Since I’m really TRYING to finish what I start, I just made myself carry this along with me until the MUSE 
wacked me upside the head on the #66 the other day.
Like Joan of Arcadia, I was staring into the face of the Art School Boy sitting next to me, searching for meaning. This, and I do mean looking up and finding a face in yours, is SO easy to do on the BUS. Given the bulk of our wardrobe most times of the year, (WHWAT, spring and summer are a SEASON?) we are crammed together like little NEMOs seeking warmth and forgive me, yes, we do sit very close together on the BUS. Forgive me (no offense intended so it’s really unlucky to flame me!) when I reveal that occasionally on really cold days, I actually seek out LARGE FOLK to sit in between – this usually happens on a 3-seater, with the others facing outwards.
AHEM, the Holiness of the Occasion ocurred when the Art School Boy revealed his CRUSH on my sock. He went ON & ON about the beauty of said object – YES! the sock I thought was B-O-R-I-N-G he thought was Beautiful. He called me an ARTIST three times in a row and just like that – the genie was OUT of the Bottle – and, once again, beautiful the sock became!
Now, I am knitting it at any pause in the day I find. I still don’t like it very much, but if I finish it, I can go on to a more Lovely Pair waiting in the ANGEL Wings…
