Respect the claw.

These are Ken’s birthday present. Yes, it is the day after Ken’s Birthday, no they are not done. Yes, that means that Ken got yarn and my best intentions for his birthday. (Again)
I got reasons though. Naturally, I’m some kind of moron, who despite having knit a thousand pairs of socks still can’t seem to get it through my head how long it takes to knit some. Apparently all I can think when I look at socks is not “Hey, those are 32 stitches to four inches….that would take a while” but instead “Socks are small, that would be quick”. Thinking this is not what makes me a moron. Thinking this every single time, over and over is what makes me a moron. Also, these socks are killing me. There is something about the tension, or the yarn or the needles that has turned my formerly effective right hand into a little something I call “The Claw”. The Claw does not like it when I knit the shetland socks. The Claw dictates how much I knit, and for how long. The Claw would like it if these socks were the last thing I ever knit. I am trying to learn what angers The Claw. I’ve never had pain in my hands from knitting before and as an experiment last night I put down Ken’s Birthday socks and worked on something else for a little. The Claw was pleased. The Claw wants me to slow down on the Shetland. The Claw does not like typing, the Claw likes coffee, and watching movies and icepacks. Respect The Claw.