Heels

I finally got over my fear of heels.  

Not a phobia (those who know Mike Pressler's story know what I mean when I say phobia), just a fear.

And frankly, not heels like you were probably thinking -- if my feet (and ankles and knees) would let me, I would love to wear stilettos.  Might be the only way I could be tall, other than stiltwalking (which I have also considered).

Nope, for me it's sock heels.

I started a pair of toes-up, two at a time socks on circular needles size 2 well over 2 years ago.  I made it as far as the instep and it said to start the heels. I know anecdotally from knitters and even fictional knitters (I read a lot of Anne of Green Gables and characters like her when I was a kid, and girls in that era made things.  Even Molly in the American Girl series knit and got frustrated by it.) that heels are tough in the making and mentally tough.

So although I asked my yarncraft expert - pattern-creating - oil painting - palette knife acrylica - plein air - former potter friend to walk me thru the pattern before I went to Germany so I could actually turn the literal corner on my socks, and she who usually does cuffs-down, one at a time, double pointed needle socks graciously parsed it out for me, I did nothing.

Ok, not technically nothing.

I went to Germany in Oct 2017.  (Loved it. Would definitely go again.)

I bought wool there to make MORE socks to commemorate my trip.  Beautiful sock yarn from real German sheep.

And over the course of 2018 I crocheted 11 afghans, most of them baby blankets for friends who had babies or started fostering a family of 3 under the age of 4.  (Crochet faster! You don't get 9mo lead time when the foster agency says, “So, what are you doing on Wednesday at 7?” God bless social workers and foster parents.)  And crocheting I've done since 8yo and it goes fast for me, especially in comparison with knitting, which I'm comparatively new to (really learned in 2015) and which always takes longer to show progress, unless you're arm knitting (arms make very big knitting needles) or just freakishly fast (you know who I'm talking about, Stitchers).

But as far as progress on these socks, nothing.  Nada. Zip. Zilch.

Until now.

And I'll admit, in part that's because I threw it in my bag as a 2nd project if I got a lot done on my Hawaii afghan (which I’m keeping for me, to remember the colors and warmth and experience of Hawaii) and either ran out of yarn or it got too big to lug around.  We're close on the former and far past that point on the latter.

So out came the socks.  First time since Oct 2017.  Counted my stitches about 18 times, getting many different numbers (why do you do that, yarn?), tried a line of the pattern, tinked it (tink is knit spelled backwards and means un-knit), tried again, dropped some stitches, my LED light ran out of juice and I had to find charging cords, and finally got two rows done.  And I feel ok enough with it to bring it on tomorrow's bus trip in hopes of actually making progress. (Really didn't want to lug the afghan. Been there, done that. Took 2 to The EDGE last summer.)

Most important thing is, I'm doing something with it.  It's still a UFO (unfinished object) OTN (on the needles) but I've gotten out of my own head.

I'm growing as a person.

Tomorrow's gonna be fun.

(The bus trip is to the Polynesian Cultural Center.  I brought a bunch of stuff to anchor me in this trip so I could remember Hawaii every time I look at my Hawaii afghan or Michelle Obama's Becoming.  But God has a sense of humor. Pink and purple wool socks. And a library e-copy of Craig Johnson's latest Longmire novel, Depth of Winter, set in Absaroka County Wyoming.  Those will remind me of Hawaii too.)