One of these socks is not like the other one,
not like the other one,
not like the other one.
One of these socks is not like the other one . . .
(And at this point my memory fails me, and I trail off into silence.)
Now . . . can anyone tell me what's different between sock #1 on the right and sock #2 on the left?
In case it's still hard to tell, you may take another look.
For those of you like me, here's one more chance:
Yes, that's right. Sock #1's heel is turned properly. Sock #2's heel does not have any decreases worked at the end of the heel flap.
Today, class, we will be discussing the importance of humility in knitting.
So, I'm trucking along on these socks for Vern, and it's only after I fininsh grafting and weaving in ends that I notice something is a little different in how this second sock is constructed. (Note to self: do periodic quality checks on WIP's. Being blindsided at the end of a project by something that could have been easily detected is just plain stupid.)
The odd thing is, Vern is actually happier with the fit of the misshapen sock than he is with its properly knitted first mate. Who knew? It's entirely possible that I'll be ripping back the first sock to take the decreases out of the heel flap.
So, to take my mind off of that rather idiotic and prideful fall (I was feeling so pleased with myself for remembering how to turn a heel without referring to the pattern), here are a few pictures of my yard. It's really starting to wake up. :o)
Bergenia cordifolia "Winterglow"
Ostritch plume Astilbe (Which I thought died midsummer last year. I'm so glad it made it!)
Dicentra spectibilis (The plain, old-fashioned Bleeding Heart.)
A "surprise" perennial I don't remember planting last year. Of course, I have a number of these. Between playful cats and hungry deer, most of my plant markers were spread hither and yon over the winter.
And, at last, a weeding gardener's-eye view of the front perennial bed:
Have a great Wednesday!