Wednesday, October 19, 2005


No Socks, Please, We're British

Being Scottish, I have never considered myself to be British (*spit*), and neither do most of the English people I know (who the hell came up with British? Let's hunt them down, resurrect them and then kill them again), it was the best title I could come up with at a moment's notice.

Forgive me.

Anyhow, I tinked back the sock cuff, found the "extra" stitches (what the hell was I thinking? I've got to cut back on the crack.) and have about 3" of cuff completed. Would have been more but I was enthusiastically assisted by Wing Po, (the Chinese Cat formerly known as Diamond), which slowed down the production somewhat.

Let's see, is there any nationality I haven't insulted yet? Oh, I'm sure there are tons, give me time. I'm not a racist, I'm an equal opportunity pig.



Moving right along, I'm very proud of this cuff. It is even, the ribbing looks like ribbing, and there are no ladders at the needle changes. We will not discuss the cast on. We will overlook it like the ladies and gentlemen that we are, and assume that the hapless wearer (likely me) will wear them folded over or something. I was hoping to make these for He Who Almost Got His Ass Divorced This Week and Who Would Have Deserved It Bigtime, seeing it's his birthday next week and he's semi-forgiven for his most recent transgressions, but I don't think it'll fit over his foot. I'll let him try it on in a day or two when it looks more like a sock. If it doesn't fit, he gets another pair of Dorm Boots, seeing he wore a hole in the last pair. And if he isn't as rude about this next pair because it's not my FAULT that the last ones were different sizes. It was art, not a mistake. Who needs an equal number of rows on the sole of each slipper anyhow?

Damn all these anal people who are into symmetry. And things that fit. And such. (I forgot a couple of rows, so sue me. They were warm. And funny-looking.)

Um, what was that I was saying about not being able to knit? Perhaps I should redefine that. I can knit, but I can't pay attention long enough to make two slippers the same size. Or, well, finish anything but a thingie that I used to call a dishcloth but that seems to be becoming a facecloth now, as avowed by a couple of friends who have recently joined the Green Dishcloth Club.

Maybe I should just stick to what I know. Or to the kitchen floor, seeing I haven't done any housework in weeks. Ick.

Anyhow, there will be pictures of this famous sock (which WILL have a mate) in the next day or so, but I seem to have grossly overestimated my available knitting time.

Um, and the teachers? The ones that I said I didn't support and would throw eggs at? If you could just ignore all of that and go back to work so I don't have four littlegirls here from 7:30am to 6pm every day I would really appreciate it. I know you're only staying off work because of my blog and really the only thing I objected to was the wage increase and oh dog I'll even go for that despite my own 15% rollback if you will just Take These Children Out Of My House please and thankyou.

Send help. Or liquor. Or llama (duck). Or a helpful llama with liquor.

That is all.

"british" is a collective noun for "all you people over there who talk funny and really have a lengthy history of hating each other a lot with the blood and the carnage but you are one nation now sort of so suck it up". When you look at it that way, British seems like a right handy short cut, yes?
Oh gosh, if ever I'm looking to get cracked up this is the place to come! My cat is looking at me all weird because I'm laughing so hard at your post ... Gee, I hope it's actually supposed to be funny. ;)
Hey! I come from Canadian stockage who called themselves British. But come to find out, the ancestors were Irish, and they must have been too ashamed to say so. Farking hell, but I loves me the British. And besides, when I worked in England, the only ones I COULD NOT UNDERSTAND FOR THE LIFE O' ME were the Scottish. So stop being MEAN! (this is delivered with a chuckle, you realize?)
You know llamas are pack animals, right? So it wouldn't be too hard at all to load one up with a couple barrels of chicha. Or tequila. Or whatever you need. Assuming I had a llama and some barrels, of course. I read you everyday, and on days when I really need a good laugh, I read you several times. Thank you for being in the world.
Kiss that kitty, lock the rampaging girlies in a room with some toys or books and a first aid kit and find a cozy closet with some liquor. Sheesh!
Liquor ain't gonna help with the socks. Just speaking from experience here.
Thanks for providing a good laugh this afternoon. I come your way via referral from Jono's site - nice giftie you sent her!
Okay, I feel your pain on the too many little kids for too many hours thing but I have to disagree about the pay. The teachers shouldn't have to suck it up and neither should the hospital workers. If folks need to work two jobs to make ends meet then that is no way to treat workers in such an important sector. The goddamn government should suck it up and raise taxes for those folks that aren't working two jobs to make ends meet or do something else. Cutting salaries does not make our public services run any better.

Rant over. Good luck with the socks.
I second Kathy's realisation that liquor and socks don't mix so well. You think you had extra stitches before, baby...

You might even discover you have extra feet.
Ummm...So what exactly is the green dishcloth club?

I have thought about joining a sock club, but after further consideration, I decided I'm more of a titty twist kind of gal.
Hint: October is A-Sock-in-the-Eye month.
Umm... so I'm assuming that your title is in reference to the play, "No Sex, Please, We're British." I'm kind of shocked, because I haven't really read you before, but the day I do, your title makes reference to a play I was in when I was 18. I like you already!

Thanks for making my day!
hmm, don't like British - gee does that mean you don't like 1/4 of me? I am British, Irish, Swedish & Finnish and I knitt bright green & orange dish clothes, along with soxs of multi colours.
I bet the Americans (oh, that would be me) came up with the term British to throw everyone on that island into one big category thereby making all inhabitants the bad guys oh, let's say 200 plus years ago.
You know, you keep asking for liquor, and you might get some from your friendly geographically-close stalker. Wasn't it just last month you were freaking about your girl going to school for the first time? I take it you're over that.

Also, do our dishcloths have to be green if we want to join the club?
shall I remind you of my husband's recent transgression, in which he bought my amnesia for the price of one drum carder? (although I should have negotiated better)

ps. you get that llama to deliver sheep and I will be over right away!
I have such a great mental picture of that helpful llama with liquor.
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