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cold, dry, somewhat January-ish.

These are the upper halves of a pair of socks I’m working on for my sister’s Χmas present. I am disappointed with the gaudiness of the fuchsia and yellow; seeing the hank, I thought they might blend better. My opinion may not matter, however; everyone I have shown them to thinks they look fine—not at all like clown socks.

I am not technically late with the presents. The same sister informed me on 11 December that she and the other sister had decided at Thanksgiving not to draw names for one gift as we have done for a few years now, but to do small personal gifts for everyone. We are not a close family. I have not lived within 500 miles of a family member since 1986. I talk to each of my siblings once or twice a year. They are as bad about e-mail as I am. We forget/ignore each others birthdays and all but two fall within a month of each other. I’m supposed to come up with a half dozen personal gifts in the two weeks before Χmas and mail them?

My solution was to send them Amazon or Half Price Books—recycling books is good for you—cards with a note for each to e-mail me back for the second half of the gift. I would then present them with a choice of yarns and what I could make from them. So far only the above-mentioned sister has responded and that is the yarn and item she chose. I admit she saw the yarn in cake form and I told her it was less pink than it has turned out to be.

Given the family avoidance of e-mail, I could be working on 2008’s presents into 2010.

The sock ribbing is a Tunisian Rib Barbara Walker’s first pattern book. My sister wants shorter socks and the Tunisian Rib is stiffer than the usual k2p2 rib and does give an interesting variation to the variegated yarn

Here’s to a better year than 2008.

Any year that gives us an end to the Bush administration has to be an improvement.

This year I will

• take a real vacation (I didn’t this year)
• use some of the yarn that I bought four years ago
• finish the socks I started for my niece last December
• finish my inventory of the stash and keep it up to date
• make some attempt to lose the weight I gained in 2008
• not complain about turning 51
• try to be a more social being

Tomorrow, knitting content.

And here, fresh, in old lady pink, is the ultimate (for me) in holiday knitting:

I should have put something in there for scale. That’s about 5″ wide at the ankle. Perfect for the gout-ridden holiday reveler…who likes antique white and dusky rose.

This is, of course, done from scratch. The ribbing effect, which shows up much better on camera, is a k-b2, k3 stitch done in the round. It’s a neat effect, if not particularly easy in cotton. Otherwise, it’s just an overgrown sock.

This finishes the xmas knitting (sorry no pictures yet on the rest of it). From here on out everything’s gravy.
Have I mentioned yet how much I hate holiday shopping? Have I mentioned I loathe shopping in general? And other people shopping? And European tourists who come to Broadway in Soho to shop in stores that could be found in most malls in any midsize American town (and manage to clot themselves on the sidewalk at the slightest distraction)?

How about thinking of the perfect gift only to find no one sells those any more? In New York City, you’d think you could find anything. Don’t bet on it. I’m sure it’s there, but where?
In my Soho shopping, I finally found Purl. It’s a tiny, tiny shop, but, boy, it’s got some beautiful yarn. Let’s just say that Saturday during the shopping season is probably more challenging than I would prefer. I bought anyway.

Are “helpless” knitters obligatory in every yarn shop? Practically everytime I’ve been in a yarn store (when I wasn’t the only one in the store (which I prefer)) there’s one person who needs a staffer’s full-time attention and isn’t satisfied with anything offered or suggested. Get a life.

I saw two craft tables in Soho, a block apart, where at each a woman was crocheting (ugly) hats as she was attempting to sell them. The gimmick seems to work. Ugly crocheted and knitted scarfs and hats are all over the place in NYC. The horrors I’ve seen in boutique windows I haven’t the words for. I should have checked out how much the hats were going for.