I've been a good girl. I've been knitting the back of the Dad sweater, though I have to admit that the lack of other WIPs has nothing to do with my inherent goodness and everything with a bad caston day. I tried two different methods I usually use for socks, but when I pulled the wrong needle out of my Magic Loop, I decided it wasn't meant to be for now. So here is my Dad sweater back progress, miles and miles of reverse stockinette. It's burgundy, not bright tomato red. This color doesn't photograph well at all.
Thursday after work, I want yarn shopping with ZantiMissKnit. My New Job Yarn has arrived, and as promised, I'm sharing it with you.
Plymouth Yarn Baby Alpaca Grande. One skein of burgundy squishy goodness, destined to become something worn close to my face. It's so soft, so squishy, so dreamy. I want to name it and pet it.
Then, I found myself near the sock yarn. This is Happy Feet, and I can already tell that my feet will be very happy in it. The actual colors are not really reds and browns, they are fuchsias and purples and pinks, though muted and nice-looking, not bright and flashy. Not that there's anything wrong with bright and flashy per se. This yarn just isn't.
And then... oooh, happy sock yarn in reds and burgundies, darker than in this picture. Remember, my camera likes to photograph burgundies as tomato reds. I tried it without flash, but all I got was a dark muddle. Mountain Colors, very pretty, going to be a pair of socks for me!
And because I'm part of the knitty blogstalking extravaganza, here is my post on the first topic of the year: bad habits. The first one that comes to mind is that I eat when I'm bored. I'm not overweight, but it's not a healthy habit, and it won't do me any favors in the long run. I also tend to worry too much. Having an active imagination is one thing, but worrying about all sorts of unlikely things is quite another. I've gotten better at stopping the downward spiral, but sometimes, my hormones get the better of me.
And then there's the other bad habit: taking lots of pictures of my cats. Way too many, in fact. But isn't he cute? He's clearly wondering the obvious:
Now who'd throw away a perfectly good kitten???