The definition of insanity

You know how they say the definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and over, and each time expecting different results? Well, by that standard I am clearly batshit nuts.

Remember my mom’s sock?



I did everything right on this sock, I really did. I knit a full size swatch, most of a sock leg really, which I then dutifully washed and blocked. The size seemed perfect. Just the wee-est bit snug on me, which I assumed would fit my mom’s narrower feet perfectly. I then cast on the same number of stitches, on the same needles, and proceeded to knit an entire sock down to the toe decreases.

At which point, I pretty much ran out of the first ball of yarn.



But that’s a different problem entirely.

The real problem with this sock is that it’s (surprise!) too small. I had one of my knittahs try it on after I washed and blocked it on the needles. And she could scarcely yank the traitorous thing onto her size 8 foot. My mom does not have a size 8 foot.

So mom’s almost-finished sock looks like this now:



And now that gauge swatching has proven itself to be an utter waste of time yet another opportunity for gauge to taunt me with false hope less helpful than I would like, what do you suppose I’m doing now?


Yup. Swatching! For the Sienna cardigan.

This is really two swatches, knit on size 7 and size 8 needles. So I’m looking forward to being twice as disappointed when the final item bears no resemblance to either gauge swatch. What, me, bitter?

Thankfully, I’m off to the Gore Place Sheepshearing Festival with a mess of knitters today.

Nothing some fiber love and greasy festival food won’t cure.