Sheepish Eclipse

I am back to knitting plain socks.  I realize that the sound I am currently hearing is the collective groan of the blogosphere as you all contemplate another endless run of photos displaying pair after pair of plain, stockinette socks.  But, I've worn through a few pair and I need some new ones.  And I've found myself in need of comfort knitting.  You will have to bear with me.

There are always any number of reasons why a person might resort to the plain sort of knitting.  A bad day at the school where you teach.  Rampant budget cuts in the school district which require all sorts of radical fiscal solutions.  The last few months of the school year which, in my line of work, entails many, many, many meetings.  Or the fact that your Big, Fluffy Kitty has a cold and can't just behave like a proper sickly animal and go hide.  No...she requires a great deal of comforting and cuddling.  She may even be mildly afraid of her own sneezes and perhaps fall down every once in a while when a particularly forceful one sneaks up on her.  You may be the target of at least ten snotty kitty sneezes in any given day because you have to carry the ailing clump of fur around for much of the time.

Or this could happen:

Time:  9:30 a.m.

Place:  The classroom of one Ms. Sheep, teacher to America's future.

We enter this scene just as Ms. Sheep is standing next to the Precious Gift Unto Which She Must Impart Knowledge.  Her Cheerful Teaching Assistant, who needed to leave the classroom for a moment, returns.  She casts her eyes about and looks alarmed.

Cheerful Teaching Assistant:  Oh no!  Where is the Precious Gift?  He was just here!

Precious Gift:  (peering around Ms. Sheep and waving merrily)  I'm right here!  Working on the rough draft of my Civic Oration like you told me to!

Ms. Sheep:  (softly)  Dear God.  I am now able to eclipse other living human beings...

CTA:  No, no!  I just didn't see him for a second there!  He's really quite visible.  I must need a check-up for the old eyes!  I blame myself!  (she's a sharp one and can sense danger pretty quickly)

MS:  (voice rising)  I am like a whole planet!  I had a donut for breakfast today!!!  One donut and I have inflated to the point where I can hide pre-teens behind my immense and horrific girth!!!!!!!!

CTA:  (sounding a little desperate)  I just came in at a bad angle...I'll try it again!  I'm sure I'll see him this time!

MS:  I lied.  It wasn't a donut.  It was a gigantic honey bun!  I ate it in the car and now it is kicking in!  Everyone should just stand back before I start to fill up the whole stupid room!!!

CTA: (backing away slightly with her hands held protectively in front of her)  No...you're fine.  Honestly!

MS:  That was a lie, too!  I ate two of them.  Two gigantic honey buns!  In the car!  Don't look at me.  I'm hideous!!!  (begins to make not-so-subtle honking noises that are eventually identifiable as wailing)

Precious Gift:  Boy, you really set her off...

SA:  Leave me!  Save yourselves and leave me to bloat here like the beached whale that I am!

Other Student Working In The Classroom To The New Student Who Is Looking A Bit Alarmed At This Point:  She can be a little "dramatic" sometimes...

So I'm knitting plain socks.  Socks will fit even if you eat two gigantic honey buns for breakfast.  Or find that you are able to completely eclipse other human beings with your honey-enhanced buns.  I thank you for your understanding.

Besides, I've really been wanting to knit some plain socks.  Normally, I get jazzed about the knitting because I've got me some super nice new sock yarn.  This time, however, I wanted to knit them because I have some super nice new dpns.  Forever and then some, I have knit my socks using 56 stitches on size one needles.  Then I saw the light.  And some KnitPicks Harmony needles in a delicate size nada.  Ronni sent me a most thoughtful care package not too long ago and, nestled in there so sweetly, was a set of these things which I have coveted for longer than I care to admit.  So smooth.  So pointy.  So sturdy in spite of their delicate beauty.  It makes a honey bun stuffed Sheep want to set aside convention, cast on a few more stitches and knit up a plain sock just for the experience.  It makes everything better.

But, just in case this isn't enough, I picked up a new accessory today whilst perusing the aisles of the dollar store.  In theory, I was there to get a few things to add to the prize drawer for the well-behaved children at school.  But, I thought that a nice little piece of bling might come in handy for my own self in case the issue of my blocking the view comes up again.

When you are wearing a skull bracelet, no one notices that you are carrying one or two extra honey buns in less than flattering places.

SA