The world turned into liquid air. My dogs seldom refuse to go out because they’re used to the rain, but Friday night, there was no way they were going to go out and pee at their usual time. We had to wait until there was at least a little space between the drops. It also got cold, relatively anyway. By Sat., it was 50°F in the morning and about 65°F during the day, with Sunday being but slightly warmer. However, this lovely break is at an end. We’re set to get back up to 95°F by Wed., but then back down to 78° by Friday. Yo-yo time, I’m telling you.
What does this have to do with knitting you ask? The weather fluctuations have begun to determine what I knit and when. If it’s cold, I revert to my cat’s blanket, which is coming along nicely thanks to this weekend’s storms. Hot, I return to knitting cotton socks. Speaking of which, I’ve finished my Grandmother’s really funky socks. I really don’t know what I was thinking when I bought this yarn. Well, OK, I was thinking she likes green and I wanted to do cheerful, but seriously, these are so cheerful that she’s going to have to forego wearing them at church for fear of distracting people from the sermon. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for other’s souls by having distracted them with my loud socks. Besides, I don’t really want my grandmother to be known, in hushed whispers, as “the old woman who wears weird socks”. She only wears them because she doesn’t want to offend the insane granddaughter who knits them for her you know.
Actually, this is all not true. My grandmother will probably love them so much that she’ll show them off to people who couldn’t really care less, and/or then revert to thinking the above. It’s just very odd to think of my grandmother, who is usually a fairly plain sock person, running around in luminescent green striped socks and loving them. Also, if I remember myself correctly as a child, I wouldn’t have wanted to have been caught dead with her when she was wearing socks like that. I probably would have disowned her immediately. Now I’m knitting them for her. That means I’ve either grown up, or gone completely Dolally, or maybe both.
This week we’re headed for hot and humid again, so it’s back to plain cotton socks. At least I’m getting Christmas knitting done.