Well, I'm here, and that's proof, but that is not the only proof that God has a sense of humor.
I have been busy, among other things, swatching like a little madwoman for the pattern for my pal's socks for the Hogwarts Sock Swap 2. Normally I put things off forever, but this time I have been very proactive and, like many good deeds, it has not gone unpunished...
I ordered a possible Gryffindor red yarn to go with yellow-verging-toward-gold yarn that I already have, and it arrived pronto. Except that I am not convinced it is the perfect color. I did try tea-dying it, and that seemed better, but I can hear my mother whispering "Rolled Cookies" in my ear. This is our code expressions for things that seems like a good idea at the time, but are going to leave you with a hell of a clean-up situation and three edible cookies after an exhausting day's work. Is mom right? Who knows.
It did seem, however, prudent to order the color yarn from Knit Picks that is used in the Charmed Knits book. This way, even if it turns out that people (What people? Who will ever be sure WHAT color these things are, given the delicacy of color repro at the best of times, never mind on a million different monitors? But I digress)think I used the wrong color, I will at least have the consolation that SOMEONE thought it was the right color.
This left me with three balls of red (They were on sale and I could not resist) and a ball of yellow in pretty-much-the-same-sockweight and two balls of burgundy in pretty much the same weight. But the yellow was not EXACTLY gold. So I took advantage of the trip to the Mannings that I made on my vacation and bought a single ball of Dale Baby Ull in gold - the color used in Charmed Knits. Why did I not buy two? Because I am an idiot, that is why. I will almost but not exactly certainly need two. Unless I re-think gold toes and heels. I could re-think gold toes and heels. But we do want these to be nice and Gryffy, not just burgundy socks.
Of course I am torturing myself over this fiber anyway. Some of my friends do not like the brands of some of these skeins I have. I lay awake at night pondering this profoundly. For which of my sins is this mental torture punishment? I would like to be able to cross it off the list of things I still have to do penance for... My normal procedure of waiting til the eleventh hour and paddling like mad is starting to look like it actually makes sense.
Meanwhile, in a knitter's home far far away, similar perfectionism is torturing my pal. I know this because we have confessed our perfectionism to each other. She is on her third version of the pattern she is writing for my socks, and I have swatched and rejected no fewer than five stitch patterns. Now that I am down to the ones I think I might use I question the entire premise of the sock. Maybe an entirely different approach?
My pal and I were discussing that Rebecca, who is running the swap, must have matched us very carefully. Clearly, as knitters, we are both perfectionists, not only with what we are making, but with the goodies we are sending. Thanks to her careful and considerate questioning she now knows more about what I would like in a present than most of my close family members. Thanks to my careful questioning, I have a few ideas and hope they are somewhere close.
They might be, though. The latest hilarity concerns the sock patterns we are supposed to send each other. We have been carefully circling each other with veiled queries which will hopefully leave a surprise, right? The surprise is on us. She got me a copy of Cookie A's Twisted Flower Socks pattern. Not having any idea of this, I, seeing this pattern and deciding it was gorgeous, challenging, and looked like fun bought her one. In fact, I liked it so much I bought her one, and me one. Between the two of us we now have three copies of this pattern.
I am laughing at myself here, but somewhere in heaven I think God is laughing so hard he is peeing his pants.