One last Rhinebeck memory

So, when I was packing up my knitting on Thursday night, preparing to drive down to the The Two Sock Knitters' place, I decided to chuck in my "Socktoberfest" sock. (What? Yes, of course I joined Socktoberfest. You didn't know? Well, just because I never posted about it, never actually filled out the questionnaire, nor so much as put the button up on my blog... well, okay. Perhaps I can see the confusion.)

Anyway, I had a sock I started in October that I've been thinking of as my Socktoberfest sock, because it was an autumny kinda yarn and I had this idea that I would finish the pair by the end of the month. (Try not to hurt yourselves laughing on that one - I don't carry Blog-owners Insurance.)

So I chucked it into my bag o' knitting and went, "Huh, that looks strange somehow," but I was running way behind so I didn't really worry about it.

That night, after Meg and the Fool went to bed, I was kinda restless and edgy and weird-feeling, so I thought, "Well, I'll knit a bit of my sock. That'll help." So I sat down to knit, and realized just why my sock had seemed weird when I'd left.

Can you see it?


How about now?



And then I remembered how, earlier in the day, I'd walked out of the bathroom to discover Henry had scaled this tower of Rubbermaid tubs we have in the living room, and had been happily perched on my knitting bag, contemplating his next move (the cat tree, or the shelves?).

Apparently, that is the mark left by my spider monkey child's bony ass, when he sat on my knitting bag. sigh.

So, while at Rhinebeck, I had to hunt around for new dpns, so that I could continue working on my sock.

For a very brief nanosecond I considered upgrading to some nice bamboo ones, but I saw the flaw in that plan just about the same time Meg did. "Yeah, that way when he sits on your knitting next, he can just break 'em." Yeah, never mind.

I did find some, and transferred the sock to the new needles, so all is well on that front (finished that first sock a while ago, the second sock has kind of been languishing while I start focusing on Christmas knitting). But I can't seem to throw away those bent needles yet. They're just too random, somehow. And odd. Who knows, maybe they'll be good guilt-fodder once the kids are older. grin!

P.S. This is my little culprit. Observe his wee little black-black soul, and again, try not to hurt yourself laughing when you consider how I'm going to fare during his teen years.