You can always tell when The Sheep has been bitten by the sock bug. It's not that I talk about socks all the time or lovingly drool whenever I am in the presence of sock yarn. Not to say that the aforementioned is not true. It is. But that's not how the public-at-large can spot the re-emergence of this addiction. The "tell" is in my left wrist.
I don't know what physical/muscular phenomenon is going on (although there is a plethora of information out there on the subject) but I am a walking advertisement for impending joint replacement. It doesn't help that I was feeling poorly for some of those sock-happy days. I was home and could knit for hours upon hours to the unrelenting rhythm of my clacking ligaments. I just couldn't help myself...this is some cool sockage! I think a break is in order, though.
But I'm so close!!! I am decreasing for the toe on sock #1 and the end is in sight. Well, the middle. I mean, you have to have two of them, right? I know that I need to "wrest the wrist." I can get everything back to it's normal non-clicking state if I just let it set a bit. But, how? How????? I want my socks, dang it all!
And now...more sock yarn is on the way!!! I am one of the two winners in Mama E's comment contest and she is sending me a skein of her stunning hand dyed sock yarn. What's a Sheep to do? I must carry on for the sake of the socks.
Well, maybe tonight I can take a wee little break. Perhaps I can work on the Great Shawl Experiment or the Reflecting Hearts rug for a while. If I just focus, perhaps I can ignore the siren song of the socks until my wrist is less vocal about it's current state.
Or maybe I can just wear my brace. Sometimes you can jam one of the needles into the Velcro straps for added speed and storage.
I hear that it's healthy to accept one's limitations and embrace them. Just not too tightly cuz of the clicky wrist thing 'n all...
SA
OK, so it's been a while
4 years ago
1 comment:
Hi- I'm no knitter but I always appreciate somebody stopping by my little blog. Thanks for the birthday wishes. And I'm sorry to have to break it to you, but my sister and I already have dibs on "weird old cat ladies." Well, maybe we can have a deed restricted community where you have to be a weird old cat lady to live there. I'm sure we're not alone.
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