Sock It To Me

As much as I'd like to think the Chickenheads couldn't possibly exist without me, they can - though I like to think it's not quite as much fun.

For the past three weeks I've been down and out, having had some major orthopedic surgery at the end of March. For the first week I was in the hospital, then 30 miles away at my mom's while I recovered. After two weeks I had a clear enough head to cast on my recovery blanket project, but quickly got stuck. Normally, getting stuck is no biggie since you can always wait til the following Tuesday night when one of the Chicks will help you. But my isolated situation made it more like a concrete-walled dead end. So I put the knitting aside and focused on my Barack Obama audio book instead (a worthy substitute I must say).

I finally came home last week and last night the Chickenheads were kind enough to relocate knitting night from CertainT's house to mine, relegating my poor boyfriend to the office downstairs in a failed attempt to drown out the bock, bocking.It was wonderful to have the group back together, though I will say I haven't been used to that much chitchat having been in near isolation during most of my recovery. But I suspect I will ease back in to the high energy level of the group as my own energy begins to return.

Clearly, some sort of sock fever has taken over the Chickenheads - a virus I have yet to catch. Rugby is insane about socks. When she is not knitting baby blankets for her pregnant friends, you can guarantee you will find her knitting up another adorable pair of socks. And Bubbles is now equally obsessed - dying her own sock yarn and acquiring sock books like they're going out of style. This is the book they are all obsessed with at the moment, and there are some tempting patterns in it for sure.

But for some reason I can't seem to get excited about knitting socks. I have had a half-knit pair on circulars sitting in my basket for months and I keep avoiding them. This, after an initial sock disaster that left me cursing socks for all eternity, which only inspired Bubbles to buy me some better sock yarn (she insists the yarn is why I had such a hard time) housed in a plastic contraption that keeps the balls of yarn from tangling up while you knit two socks at a time on double circulars.

As touched as I was (am) by Bubbles' fighting spirit, I still feel defeated by them. Perhaps I will change my mind - someday, when I run out of everything else. Or when I see Rugby's next cute pair and finally decide I have to have them for myself.

In the meantime, it's good to be back.
Bock, bock.

Bald is Beautiful

Here's the Chickenheads' dream for the future:

We each invest a piece of our nest eggs in a new yarn shop to be owned and operated by Bubbles. I can't imagine anyone ever being more enthusiastic about all things knitting - and more willing to help others be the same.

Bubbles stores a tremendous amount of knitting information in that bubbly, 25 year old head of hers. And whatever she doesn't know, she's smart (and patient) enough to research and figure out herself. Talk about a perfect yarn shop owner.

How many times have you walked into a yarn shop and become instantly overwhelmed with options and information? Or you can't find something you thought you wanted and have no idea what your second choice should be?

Think of these moments and then think about your local yarn shop. Is the woman who works there, very likely the same person who owns it, friendly, helpful and rooting for you to do something amazing (and not break the bank)?

If you answered yes to this question, consider yourself lucky. I've yet to find that kind of shop owner in my town. And, judging from our weekly meetings, Bubbles could easily be her.

Alas, none of us have any extra cash, or a rich daddy waiting to give us money. So instead we dream. And ever since Bubbles started dying her own yard and bought her her own spinning wheel, the Chickenheads have been joking that the next logical step is for Bubbles to own her own alpaca. Yes, the actual animal. And, I must warn you, she lives far enough out in the boonies to make this not all that crazy of an idea.

This link is in honor of Bubbles and the Chickenheads's communal dream to make all of our communal knitting dreams come true.

Bock, bock.