Last night, in a totally uncharacteristic fit of prudence and temperance (and possibly a few other virtues, though certainly not fortitude), I did an impressive thing. My hands hurt, so I put my knitting down.
I know, not exactly rocket science. But it becomes all the more stunning when I explain that I put my knitting down when I had only 8 rounds to go to finish the second sock in a pair. And they weren’t even the traditional 64 stitch rounds (64*8=512, which is actually a fair number of stitches). Nope, they were the decrease rounds at the tip of the toe where everything goes zipping along and each round has 4 fewer stitches than the last (in this case, a total of 224 stitches…why yes I DO keep track when I’m doing the toe, don’t you?). But somehow, I still put it down. I’m a bit in awe.
Of course I finished it up in a few minutes this morning and the socks are soaking in the sink as I type. Pics of the finished sock tomorrow (if the weather holds and The Boy can be convinced to model wooly socks in the mid-June weather).
And now, I need to go cast on something else. Because with the completion of that sock, I suddenly have absolutely nothing on my needles. This cannot be allowed to continue.