Conqueror of Second Sock Syndrome

Today I achieved a momentous day in my knitting career. So momentous, in fact, that I had to open a blog just to tell the world about it. I have summarily conquered Second Sock Syndrome. How did I do this, you may ask, oh nonexistent reader? Read on, my friend, read on...

Three weeks ago, I found myself at the business end of a bit of a knitter's nightmare. A pair of socks that had been commissioned from me were complete, but three socks sat before me, all unpaired for various reasons. One I miscalculated how much Koigu KPPPM it would take to make a pair, ending up with a single sock and far too little to make her mate, at which point the universe decided that the colorway needed to vanish from my immediate environs and the number of the colorway needed to vanish from my memory. By the time more was obtained, the sock had sat around pairless for too long. The second loner was from the Socks that Rock Rockin' Sock Club (sorry, no pics allowed...) in a pattern that ended up being more fiddly than I expected. No, scratch that...it was an epic stranded colorwork battle that I barely survived, being something of a noob to stranded colorwork. Worse yet, I made them in the smallest size, knowing that I was planning on giving them away to a friend with tiny feet. A pair of socks that epic with no hope of wearing them gleefully at the end? Please, child. I would rather get stabbed with a rusty DPN than cast on #2. The third was my friend, another RSC pattern that charmed the absolute snot out of me, with the first sock newly finished.

At this point, I made a resolution: it was time for Second Sock Stravaganza. I would not take any other project seriously until three second socks were made, done, gone. Upon completion, a project that (for the love of Gawd) would not be a sock would be selected and made purely to proclaim my victory. No absolute deadline was made, but an informal deal with myself was witnessed by my husband who would be annoyed daily by running commentary on my status. It was in his best interest to bug me to get the things done.

The plan was simple, though in retrospect quite backwards. I would pick up momentum by completing That Pair I Loved. I'd whip through plain-stockinette Koigu, and finally have the wherewithal to attempt Mount FairIsle. If I had been smart, I would have conquered the mountain first before coasting to victory on the other two, but that would have required brains.

After an epic uphill climb involving significant amounts of knitting while reading laboratory policies and procedures at work, I stand before you today with two new pairs of socks for myself and one for a friend that kind of looked like a colorwork version of a man's anatomy while I was knitting the heel. Seriously.

Next: Birch, a lace mohair shawl. Not a sock. Not even remotely close. To Victory!!!!!!