My trip to The Fold really was lovely. I came away with a pound of a silk/merino blend to spin up, and some adorable stitch markers. To me, it was worth the drive and the gas.
(Oooh, aaah. Shiny!)
The bad, since this weekend has been nothing but checks and balances hit as soon as I returned. Our original plan had been to drive, since my father wanted to come up to Kalamazoo for a while. This was unfortunately found to be impossible on Saturday. Amtrak was our second choice. Sunday morning showed all four trains to Chicago completely sold out! We ended up returning on the Grayhound bus, which was fine, until my laptop fell out of my bag (from above the seats) and clobbered me on the head. I fondled my wool.
The long bus ride had allowed me to work on my Sidewinders, which were going splendidly. I whizzed through the Prologue, and onto Act I, II, and III. I was in love (am in love) with the ingenuity of the pattern, the beauty of the yarn, and the overall project.
Until yesterday. They're impossibly small. Either I have man-calves like no other, or I made a huge mistake. I'm really hoping it's the latter, although the former is not entirely impossible.
I've set aside the disaster sock for now, so close to being done, yet so far from perfection. Once I summon the willpower, it will be back to the frog pond, unless I can discover my mistake.
The only good thing? Look at that stitch marker. Look at it! Even with the disaster sock breaking my heart, my new stitch markers make every row a little more exciting. (I almost wish I were joking. Who knew such a small thing could excite such fervor? But really...they do.) Now, I can wear my heart on my sleeve and on my socks!
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