Why I Don't/Can't do Socks

It's a great day: I'm well rested from doing a whole lot of not-much yesterday and sleeping in this morning. It's about 70 outside and I have my front and back doors open to the screens to let the spring breeze come through. Part one of the room-switching project is done - the bedroom that I'm moving hubby and myself into is cleared out except for the furniture that will be in there with us. I've done some laundry. So I feel good. I'm ready to find a movie to watch and knit up some sock yarn, but not into socks.

I guess I should explain why I don't do socks. A few months after I began knitting and I'd completed a few scarves, I started eyeing my friend Judy's sock-making and thought "Hmmm - I can do that" plus she told me it was easy (big fat lie), so I signed up for a sock-making class. The class was in a shop where my friend and former co-worker Winnie works and Winnie herself was the instructor. The class was divided into two Saturdays - 1st day: learn how to use double-pointed needles and make a little sock for practice and 2nd day: start working on a real sock. The first Saturday, I arrived early to buy my supplies (the aforementioned needles, plus yarn for actual socks) and pick out a free little ball of yarn to make the practice sock. There were three of us in the class - myself, an older lady with bad arthritis in her hands who was determined to learn to do socks despite this (Good for her!), and a youngish woman who looked kind of mousy. Anyway - we began and I was so excited! I had visions of the ooohs and aaaahs I would hear when my family and friends received their gift of Socks from Sarah. Reality soon set it. The needles had a habit of twisting around and making me forget where I was and what I needed to do there, I couldn't seem to focus on the work with my glasses on so I took them off and then had to hold the knitting about two inches from my nose, and I just couldn't seem to figure the instructions out even with my instructor/friend sitting right beside me. I began to sweat. Then Winnie pats my arm and says, "Sarah, you're kind of tense - this is supposed to be fun, you know." Really? And then Miss Mousy, who I was pretty much ignoring because she was going on and on about her career as a doctor and her computer whiz husband and blah, blah, blah, holds up a completed little sock and says, "Look at this - I thought it would be easy and I was right!" Bitch. And she continued, "You know, I used to make socks and I'm glad I can still do it." I wanted to ask "Then why did you take this class??? To make me and arthritis-stricken Betty over here feel inferior?? Why don't you just go back to your hospital and save some lives or whatever???" But I used an extreme amount of self-control and kept my mouth shut. The effort brought tears to my eyes, though. Or maybe they were tears of frustration. Whatever, there were tears. I acted like I had an allergy issue, though, and nobody noticed. Or maybe they were so embarrassed for me because it's really sad to see a grown woman cry over socks that they just acted like they believed my allergy story. So, I pulled myself together and told myself "You can do this! It's just a sock!" My mental pep talked worked for about thirty seconds until I looked over and Bettywitharthritis was done with her little sock. I still hadn't gone around the heel of mine. I realized right then and there that sock-knitting was not for me. I can handle some young over-achiever showing up and being better than me, but when someones grandma with painful joints can get it done while I'm still sweating and crying - well, it's just too much. Class mercifully ended and I made up some BS excuse for not being able to go back for the second part the next week. I gave my "Socks are easy" friend Judy my hardly used double-pointed needles and called it good. I did, however, hang on to the sock yarn since I was sure that I'd be able to do something with it someday. Now that someday has arrived, I'm enjoying knitting up that sock yarn - it makes such a nice pattern in pretty colors even though it's just straight knitting and not a sock. I think it will wind up in a blanket somehow but I haven't got that far yet - I'm just enjoying the knitting for its own self right now.

Yesterday, in between watching Law & Order reruns on cable, I watched an Arnold now Governor of California married to a Kennedy movie. I call him that because I can't spell his last name. The "Terminator" guy. Anyway, the movie was called "End of Days" and was about the Devil taking human form at the end of 1999 so he could father a child with a human and bring about the end of the world as we know it. Pretty much turn it into his regular home, Hell.
Arnie was the good guy who finds out about this and tries to save the girl the Devil has picked out to be his Baby Mamma. It really wasn't very good, but I stuck with it, hoping it would improve. Then there was a part where Arnie's partner is watching this girl's house and the Devil wants to get in there (so just bust in already, you're the Devil) but apparently has to get rid of this guy first. So the Devil goes behind this small wall and takes a leak, and the movie shows the flow running into the street and over to the van where Arnie's partner is. Then he lights a cigarette, takes a couple of puffs and then tosses the cigarette into this and it immediately bursts into flame, the flames follow the flow to the van and the van blows up. I sat there, transfixed, and thought "What, the Devil pisses gasoline now??? Please." I couldn't watch after that - it was just too stupid. That's an hour or so of my life I'll never get back. I like Arnie, but it was just too ....bad I was going to say "unrealistic" but I couldn't really say that and then admit I love Arnie in the Terminator movies. Because we all know how realistic they are.

Not much else to share today. The dryer just buzzed, which sometimes means "Hey, your stuff is dry" and sometimes means "Hey, your stuff isn't really dry but you need to come and check it out and then push the button again." My dryer obviously has a mind of its own and likes to mess with me.

Have a great weekend! If you're on Spring Break next week like me (did I mention that?), enjoy it. :o)

Sarah