Black Magic?


These damn socks have been cursed from the get-go.

Seriously, I think the LYS that the yarn and needles were purchased at is built on an ancient Native American burial ground, or something similarly spooky. I honestly would not be surprised at all.

The first sock went off without a hitch. I can't even remember having to rip back once. I should have known right then that something was too good to be true. I bound off, and went on to the second sock.

First, a DPN broke for no apparent reason, as I was just knitting along in the middle of the row. Whatever, these things happen, maybe the wood just had a weak spot in it. I asked for a replacement from Brittany, which turned into all sorts of waiting around.

Finally, I got the replacement needle and started knitting again. The sock traveled with me a lot for a few weeks, to class and even on vacation to ski in New York with my family. All seemed well.

Then, on the return flight, I started to notice something was wrong. I was running out of yarn way too quickly. My ball seemed to go from a nicely-sized mass to something the size of a tangerine way too quickly. As you've probably guessed, I ran out of yarn. Two inches from the top of the sock. Yeah, it sucks.

I've been trying to track down the yarn (Online Supersocke 100, from the Afrika collection, colorway 996), and it seems impossible. None of my local stores have it, and anyway, it seems to be a bit wasteful to buy an entirely new skein to use less than 100 yards.

So right now, I'm staring at these, and wishing I had the magical ability to stretch my yarn.

Damn Indian burial grounds.

 
 
 
 

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Shan said...

This whole curse thing is spookily familiar.

February 6, 2008 at 2:03 PM

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