My stash is like an archeological dig. Although I do toss it at regular intervals to keep an eye out for trouble, mostly the oldest stuff is in the deepest, and the newer stuff is up in the canopy of the stash – and that’s particularly true when I’m not tossing it as often as I should. (I aim for a ritual tossing of the stash spring and fall. It’s the time of greatest activity for insects and rodents- so I figure that I’m most likely to spot any interlopers then.) Still, it’s like the old stuff sinks to the bottom, and every once in a while when I’m tossing it (think salad) I come across something I’d totally forgotten I had. Such was the case with these two little balls of a old friend of mine, Fortissima Colori Socka Color #9069. (I love it when they have romantic names.) I think the yarn is probably at least a few years old, since I couldn’t find it on the Schoeller + Stahl website, but there’s no way to know. (Donna knit them in 2005.. so I think maybe that’s the year.)
I cast them on the other day when I realized that a had a couple of things going on that I wouldn’t be able to knit the Spiral Scarf at. I sure love that thing, but although the pattern is as easy to memorize as the locker number of that dude in 10th grade that you liked so much (476, right by the history room) it does require counting and looking at, so a new pair of socks were born and have been zooming along in the background.
I love these self-patterning yarns. I’ve said it before, I’ve said it again, they make me feel clever, and I love the way that they make the muggles think that I must be a genius to manage such a complex colour pattern. I’m not telling them otherwise either, not unless they look like they could be converted into knitters with the knowledge. In any case, I get big results without doing much, which pleases me to no end, even though I know its just all mouth and no trousers. As a reward for being so entertaining, I am taking these socks out tonight. I hope they aren’t too worried about the rain/hole/mudslide potential to have a good time, poor tykes. It’s been raining all day, the contractor hasn’t been back in three days (I believe something must have happened to him. It’s so unlike contractors to do this sort of thing. Dreadfully worried.) and I’ve taken the advice of several friends to avoid seeing the hole and the basement at all costs. There’s no point in knowing what’s going on, since there’s nothing I can do and it’s only going to upset me. I’ve agreed, since there’s really not a lot of liquor in the house.
I just hope that contractor’s okay.