Nigel has become more than a cuddly furball. He has apparently decided become an extension of my body. I can not go anywhere or do anything without my co-pilot. Sleeping has become difficult, as Nigel has concluded that the best place to sleep is molded to my body-not allowing me any wiggle room as I might smoosh him if I room over. Though he may be a cat and not a child, I cook with a waist high helper (his paws just barely reaching the edge of the counter to be dangerous). Think it's funny? Peeing with a Nigel not in my lap is not an option. TMI? See what I mean? At first I was flattered to have such a loving pet. Now...Now I just wonder if I smell like catnip.
Aside from my mysterious animal magnetism, I have finished one sock in time for Mother's day. Even though I made my mother try it on last weekend for sizing it fits my foot perfectly. Is is possible that I am not capable of making gorgeous socks for others? That my hands are trained to knit the perfect Jen-sized sock. Because that would be a God-given gift I could live with-perfectly fitted socks every time! I'm sure it has nothing to do with the great pattern (i.e. this blog should be renamed Ode to Cookie A.). But back to making Mom try it on. As she tried it on, I pointed out that I may have made the foot a little too long before decreasing for the toe and I could undo part of the pattern to fix it.
Mom disagreed, "It'll fit fine where it is. I can always put another sock on underneath it."
I was perturbed, "Mom, it's fine. If it's too big, I'll just rip it back and resize the foot. I just want the pattern to end on a certain spot so it looks nice. It's not a big deal really. If you want to wear it in your shoes, you can't wear two sets of socks-that would be ridiculous."
"I am of the opinion that your feet can never be too warm."
Match point. Mom wins. I mean, a knitter can't really argue with such a statement, can she?
Mean while, sock number two has just reached the first repeat on the leg with the help of some extraordinary carpel tunnel syndrome in the back of my left hand. Maybe it's the knitting in bed position, but every time I approach the sixth row of knitting sharp pains run down the tendons on the back of my left hand.