My knitting socks

No, that's not a title typo, just a little play on words...

I'm taking a class on knitting toe-up socks. That's where you start knitting from the toe instead of the traditional way (from the top).

Apparently, I suck at knitting socks.

I had no idea it was more of an intermediate/advanced class when I signed up for it. I merely saw it in the yarn shop newsletter and thought, "Oh, what a great idea for Christmas gifts!"

Really, not so much.

It took several (ok, many) tries for me to get properly started, but I got into a groove and was doing fine. Fortunately, I went into the store last night just for a little guidance 'cause as it turns out, I missed a key piece of info in the directions:

"Use a stockinette stick on the needle two."

That means, only do the cool decoration stitches on the top of the sock and do a basic knit stitch on the bottom. Apparently, it's not so comfortable to walk on the decoration stitches.

So in I walk last night, all proud to show the instructor the two inches of sock I've spent hours creating this week. She looks at it and says, "Uh oh."

And out unraveled hours and hours of sore shoulders, deep breaths, and strained eyes.

I'm almost ready to throw in the sock (as opposed to the towel). But being that I spent an insane amount of money on the class and supplies, I can't, in good faith, give up. Not that I give up easily anyway. I hate failing.

Seriously, though. These socks should be made of spun gold for what I paid. $35 for the class. $22 for two circular needles. $16 for the yarn. See?

I should be able to pawn these things for a set of solid gold knitting needles with a matching crochet needle to rescue all my dropped stitches.

**sigh**

Had I realized the great extend my wallet would be stretched, I wouldn't have taken the class.

But I did and I'm not going to give up. And this time, I'm going to photograph the darned things (get it? darned? ahahahahahahahaha!) every step of the way so all my Delicious Readers can see my agony and then feel my jubilation when I finally slide them on my cold tooties.