If the Sock Fits…

Hooray! By ignoring the suggested measurements and working things up a good inch shorter than recommended on the leg and foot, I have produced a sock that fits me comfortably.
Sock and a nicely arched foot
(Check out the boho-chic, paint-spattered artist’s-loft-floor we used for the photo shoot.)

If this sock looks familiar, that may be because it’s worked from the same yarn as my last (and first) pair of socks, which came out lovely, but not the right size. That pair is now with my mother, whose feet they do fit.

I used Sensational Knitted Socks to work up this pair, going with one of the simple, four-stitch repeats for the pattern.
Archy has doubts about the sock and a nicely arched foot
While I am quite pleased with the results, Archy appears nonplussed. “Why,” he asks, “all this fuss over something a kitty cannot eat?”

I have survived the adminsitration and scoring of the first writing placement test under my watch. Once the results are transfered over into students’ records, I’ll be in the clear until November, when we’ll give the test again to a much bigger group of students. (We had just under 500 students take the September exam; we expect about three times that in November.) I keep waiting for something to spontaneously burst into flames or to discover that I’ve completely bollixed things up in some mysterious fashion that I should have anticipated, but didn’t. When I make it through a few more days with no puff of smoke or sirens or SWAT teams or whatever, I’ll feel much calmer.

The sweet kitty by my office stopped by to say “hello” this morning and was very glad of some treats and a drink of water. She didn’t mind at all when I slipped a collar around her neck, just kept munching away. I hope, I hope, I hope that she has a home and people who love her and that I’ll get a call today or tomorrow, saying “Thanks for your concern, but this kitty is no waif.” Please keep sending good kitty vibes my way.

2 Replies to “If the Sock Fits…”

  1. Archy needs to consult with Mayham and Chaos at Stumbling Over Chaos — they know how exciting socks can be! (Those black cats are All Over socks!)
    The socks look great, and sound like they feel great too — your foot knows!

    Hope the little wandering one does have a (caring) home.
    We did acquire our cat, as an adolescent kitten, when he showed up and meowed at our steps one cold, drizzly day in October 2 years ago. He wasn’t very dirty, and he was very friendly, so we figured he had a home and someone would be worried about him. He was, however, covered with fleas — and I mean COVERED. Perhaps 100. Then he had a toxic reaction to the flea treatment, poor baby.
    Anyway, what I was getting at was that we plastered the neighborhood with signs and put an ad in the paper. After a week, when no one had answered and my girls had totally bonded with him, I made a vet appt for shots, figuring he was ours at that point (we’d already gone in for the fleas). Wouldn’t you know, that night the phone rang; it was the across-the-street neighbors who had finally seen one of the signs (at the nearest intersection…). The kids’ faces fell as they heard me talking. But then it turned out that this family was going to ‘take the kitten to a friend’s farm’ (i.e dump him and his sister) so they were happy to let us keep him. He of course had no vaccinations, and obviously mom wasn’t spayed. That family was later evicted from the rental house, and apparently they couldn’t be bothered with a litterbox either; I heard from the owner that the entire basement was full of cat poop and urine.
    My point is that some people certainly don’t deserve to own animals (wouldn’t you have checked the paper/the neighborhood if you’d lost a cat? Guess not, if you didn’t want it). I am so glad we rescued Citrus from that home. The hard part is if this little kitten has a home, like our cat, but not a good one….
    Sorry to paint bad scenarios, it was just all too reminiscent. We had lost both our cats a year before, so we were ready for a new family member; a little different scenario. (My husband claimed to never want another cat, but guess who bonded with him when he was shaking after his flea med reaction?)

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