My immediate knitting future – not jabot, not jackets, not Japanese, as it turns out -- was determined yesterday by the fact that my husband’s bedsocks collapsed. Both he and I were surprised to learn that I finished them only in May of this year. But it’s true. I may be more than a bit behindhand with balancing bank statements, but the knitting archives are up-to-date.

The bedsocks are knit of Cherry Tree Hill merino-and-possum, in a shade called Spring Frost, which I bought that happy day in March at I Knit in London when I met some blog readers: you know who you are. One of the relatively few impulse buys in my life inspired pretty well entirely by the name of the colour.

I already knew that bedsocks receive surprisingly hard wear, even when restricted entirely to their intended function. I had previously knit a pair from non-sock wool and the same thing happened (large holes very soon). The point of this latest pair was to try out various ideas for diabetic socks which you good people had suggested. But that was no reason not to knit them of proper sock yarn.

But I didn’t, and now I must. I’ll finish the Griswold first, about another week, and then turn out the sock-remnant-bag and see what’s there. I'm nearly three-quarters through the Griswold, and loving every stitch.

Japanese knitting

I remain slightly anxious about YesAsia and that credit card. It is a comfort to know that other people have dealt with them successfully. I wrote cancelling the order, and have heard nothing.

On a brighter note, I also wrote to Needle Arts asking whether they had the magazine in question, inspired by a thought that struck while I was writing yesterday’s blog. They do have it – and including it in the package won’t increase the postage. So that’s good.

Jane-Beth, it wasn’t Japanese embroidery at the Ally Pally. I wandered around a bit on the internet yesterday, looking for Japanese yarn – do they have sheep in Japan? And found this site. Undoubtedly, what we saw was the Fushiginoiroito exhibition of 2001.