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.