So it seems the sock, the pale blue, leafy, spring-tastic sock, has some limits to its magical powers of winter banishment.  This is what I woke up to this morning.

That’s one of my office windows.  This is another.

It’s a wee bit brisk out there.  And gray. And windy.  All of which is completely appropriate.  It’s January in Cleveland, this is what it’s supposed to be like.  But I am definitely going to spend the day in woolly socks to compensate.  And I may set the leafy socks aside for today.  Knitting on them when it’s like this out there seems just too much cognitive dissonance for a Tuesday morning.