I had a look at the lot behind our house where we park our car, and couldn't tell which one was ours until I brushed off a few licence plates. Decided to leave the task of digging out until this afternoon, when James gets home from classes.
Took off on foot to do a few shopping errands.
|Earl Street between Wellington and King Street E.|
|Princess Street on my way to Pan Chancho for bread.|
|The lake is still open. Once it freezes the snow squalls should end.|
It wasn't exactly a hardship yesterday being stuck indoors with a huge yarn stash. I dragged out some skeins of Kauni and played, discovering alas, that it does not work up to the same gauge as Quince's Chickadee. I've been toying with the notion of doing two versions of my colourwork cardi.
I abandoned the Kauni and decided to cast on a sock.
I've mentioned my sock philosophy before. I'm not a sock adventuress; I leave that to other knitters. Socks are a way for me to relax with knitting--no thinking, minimal counting, nothing unknown. Frequently I crank out a pair in the same pattern stitch as a sweater I've just knitted. Brookline Socks after the Brookline cardigan, Urban Rustic socks after the Petrova jacket, and so on. Guess what inspired these ones?