I'll have pictures after this weekend.
I'm mostly through my first knitted mitten - that's the thing I'm going to be working on at Maryland Sheeples and Woolies this weekend - and, like the socks, I pretty much looked at a picture and guessed. They work surprisingly easily, even for me.
You know, considering the economic status of late 16th century working men and women, it's a good thing that Elizabeth I didn't grant Alfonso Ribaldri* a Royal patent for his trained circus of knitting hedgehogs ("100 quills and a purl stitch!")**; a lot more people would have been out of a crappy poorly-paying job that barely paid the bills for a subsistence-level existence in the 16th century.***
I am more of a trained groundhog (short and round, with big pointy claws), but I can still wield a mean knitting needle.
Speaking of groundhogs, last Thursday I saw one half-way up a tree, reaching out for the tender little shoots on the ends of the branches. His tail was waggling a lot as he tried to keep balance.
Arboreal groundhogs. Gotta love 'em.
(Until they fall on your head.)
We're going to see Eddie Izzard tonight - hopefully I won't be farted on, crushed in my seat, or called a "raging c-word" this time.
Yeah I think that's it. Gotta go do actual work now. Mmmm-hmmmm.
**a knitting machine.
***no, that part's actually true.