Sockotta

I'm learning to knit socks. I have about an inch of the leg part. I'm knitting on needles so small that sometimes I drop one without knowing it. Completely without knowing this thing is not still between my fingers. They are so small, when someone asked me what I was making and I said, a sock, they said, "Oh, for a baby?" "No. For a full grown adult," I answered. These needles are so small, so pointy that I either want to use them as toothpicks or cross myself and pray that I don't poke an eye out.

I love my yarn shop. When they get a website I'm going to link them. I've been to yarn shops in other towns and another yarn shop in this town and I haven't found a group of women as friendly as I've found at Creative Yarns. Christy Ott helps you so much, even if you didn't buy the yarn from her, which makes you want to buy everything from her. She gave one of the ladies a birthday party today because this lady was turning 40 and her boyfriend of 2 years dumped her out of the blue. She cares about her customers. Right now, she's making wish lists for her customers, so I'm going to get The Honey to go into the yarn shop for some shopping. I hope I get to be with him so that I can see his face. Can you imagine my techno-savvy baby trying to purchase yarns for hand knitting? He's worried about being married to a woman who still has a box of tapes, wait until he sees all the yarns I want. Although there is a graft knitting journal that, if I get it, I can knit him an Apple logo something. I just found out I can felt (knit super big using wool yarn then shrink in the wash with hot water to make it virtually indestructable) an Apple logo notebook computer case. I just may do it if I get an iBook for my birthday.

I am ashamed to say that in the last few days, I've only added several hundred (not thousand) words. I am ashamed to admit that I may not write 50,000 words by the end of the month. I am discouraged and encouraged at the same time. I still want to keep writing what I'm doing, but I am not as committed to making it a novel. I am beginning to get interested in the lives of the people I'm writing about. I want to go into their histories, get to know them like new friends. That's good. But I am discouraged because I didn't make myself sit down and write for an hour or two every day. I know that I can get words flowing at various time (like for blogging or internal lectures aimed at various children acting co-workers) but this has been really hard. I did know this going into it, but I have never wanted to just throw my hands up like I have these last two weeks. I've been so busy, this is the first month in a year that I've gone to bed before 3am and gotten up before 11am on multiple days. It's been good and refreshing, yet I'm not working less (I'm working more) nor do I have less things to do (I'm basically on my 4th short story since starting Nanowrimo), but I've been getting sleep. That's gotta be good. It certainly is an answer to prayer.

When I get a battery for my camera, I will show you the sock. And the eye-stabbing, toothpick knitting needles that daily tax my life. You should pray.