I can't seem to sit still these days. The weather is cold one day, springlike the next, alternately rainy and grim, humid, windy, or blazingly hot, and my spring knitting careens back and forth nearly as wildly.
Garter Heel Sock, from the Vogue sock book -- I didn't like the garter top much, so made it a 3x1 rib, lined up with the pattern on the leg because it amused me. Am feeling somewhat indifferent about this sock, and I am not entirely sure why.
Primavera. Was rather unsure of this when I started, but it's growing on me. Do not be alarmed by its scrongy appearance. It is quite stretchy, despite being basically a 7x4 rib, and I find myself more dismayed by the splittiness of the Trekking Pro Natura than I am by the pattern itself.
Ahem. This was the Friday Harbor socks from Knitting on the Road, three times. I really liked the wool, the cuff pattern, the way the wool looked in the cuff pattern -- but the first time it was so small that I couldn't get it over my instep, the second time with an added repeat still so tight that it stretched the stitches mercilessly, the third time with yet another repeat far too big. My only consolation is what a pleasure it is to wind this stuff into a ball.
I've got my nose in a book more often these days, instead of knitting, it seems. Have recently finished chain-reading another string of Joanna Trollope novels, wh. I enjoy very much. It struck me recently, finding my copy of the Persephone edition of Wise Virgins where I had subconciously kicked it under the bed, that even though I don't always like all of the characters in Trollope's novels, I am interested in what happens to them. I found myself wrenched out of WV more often than not, because Woolf was so cuttingly judgemental about the characters that he obviously didn't like, that I felt myself curiously defensive on their behalf. Very dislocating, defending characters against their own author. Am thinking now of rereading some D.E. Stevenson, or I might try something new, an Elizabeth Taylor ....