First sock; Last Werewolf

As far as I'm concerned any day when something drops off my needles is a good day. Today's objet du jour is the first of a pair of socks I'm making for Thomas; working title: Tomsox 2.0.Once again assorted bits of fingering-weight yarn come together to create a riotous -- but still masculine -- sock. In fact, these are probably the most (only?) masculine socks you'll ever see with hot pink angora/merino in.

It was while working this sock that I accidentally sacrificed one of my very dear (in both senses of the word) rosewood needles. I allayed the mourning process by promptly buying another set. That's retail therapy in action.

And speaking of action, at present I am thoroughly engrossed in Glen Duncan's new novel The Last Werewolf. To say that it has me by the throat is an understatement. Mr. Duncan has outdone himself this time.

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