The scene: Maryland Sheep and Wool. The Tess booth gleams in the sunlight and I can't resist. It's hot, and we're all sweaty and dirty. The booth is crowded, and Tess herself (the owner's daughter) is shockingly surly for someone in a retail position. I can't stay away. I get separated from my group. Where's Anna? someone asks. Oh, she's back in the Tess booth. Again. Steven remarks that these colors are really girly. And then I see this:
I love it. I have to have it.
Three months later, when I'm packing for my trip, I see this again and wind it up, and then toss it in my bag. On a windy day, when it's too windy for the wind-phobic Preschooler to hike (seriously, ask him how he feels about wind), I start a pair of Sunday Swing Socks.
And they are perfect. The colors align to spiral gently down the leg. This sock has no ugly pooling, no blotches of color. I don't have to think about strategies to make this beautiful skein of yarn continue to be beautiful in knitted form. Even in the gusset, where cuff-down socks tend to look their worst, this looks great.
How can I possibly risk making another?