I put the beans out on the doorstep for a couple of hours yesterday, and they lived to tell the tale.
Compare the picture I took on Thursday and posted on Saturday, and you'll see why I'm anxious about their getting out of hand. The ones in the little coir pots in front are called Cherokee Trail of Tears -- they're supposed to be the beans the Cherokees took along. They're a climbing French-type bean, flat, not pencil-shaped. One or two of them have sent roots through the bottoms of their pots already.
I also reached the toe-shaping of the sock. It feels rather firm – have I been using smaller needles than usual? I should finish today, including Kitchener’ing. Then my husband can try it on and see what he thinks of a shaped instep. I’m glad I chose sober for the auxiliary yarn.
I am enjoying thinking about what I will buy/do when November comes. Sock-type yarn from Posh Yarn for something loose-fitting and completely simple. And then perhaps attempt Meg’s Bavarian Travelling Stitch cardigan – I’ve got the DVD; I’ve got the books (Bauerliches Stricken in three vols, Omas Strickgeheimnisse in one). That would need a high-twist DK – Ravelry should help.
And I’ve been over there this morning, looking for a preemie pattern for my Games entry. Searching for preemie patterns produces, among them, a few intended as burial gowns. They will be knit and donated, I am sure, with love and sadness, but the idea is also sort of blood-curdling. (A baby can be buried in its best everyday clothes – it doesn’t need a shroud. I think what horrifies and rather frightens me is the idea of planning for a baby’s death.)
I want to do a kimono-style wrap-around thing and will confine myself in future to searching for that with the idea of down-sizing on my own. And I’d better get back to the stash cupboard and start looking for yarn.