When I was a little girl – back when there were just 4 channels, kids, and “remote control” meant the children (as in “hey kids, go change the channel for me”) – The Wizard of Oz came on tv once a year, around Easter, if I recall correctly. It was such a big deal, so exciting. I watched it every year.

During those later teen years, of course, I was too busy/cool/bored to watch that kids’ show. But when my kids came along and I watched it again, I noticed hey! That’s “Night on Bald Mountain”! The music choices were interesting! I realized I could say whole passages by memory (oh what a world, what a world, who would’ve thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness….). And I realized that I didn’t identify with Dorothy, at all. For me, it was all about the Scarecrow.

The Scarecrow was really smart, right from the beginning, but he didn’t understand or believe that until he was awarded a dumb piece of paper by the wizard. Yeah, that’s the part I identified with. I’m not discounting everything I learned when I was in college (ages 36-40) or graduate school (40-45) – not at all. I did learn how to think more carefully, how to test my thoughts and be more skeptical. I did learn a lot of stuff too….the importance of the year 1066, the quadratic equation, how to do structural equation modeling, a bunch of stuff about psychology, etc. But like the Scarecrow, I didn’t really think I was smart, and getting that PhD kind of meant that I was. [note: what it actually means is that you are willing to endure years of hardship and difficulty, and that you are willing to bend over and take it. a few other things, too, but that's the gist.]

Even though I taught myself how to weave and spin and knit and sew and make quilts, I didn’t think I really knew how to make a quilt until after I took a little class. OK, now I have some kind of official stamp: I know how to make a quilt. Never mind that I’d been making them before.

I listen to knitters describe how they completely changed this, modified that, didn’t like anything about this sweater so they tweaked this and that, how they decided to design X or Y, and I think wow, I need to take a class. Maybe I don’t.

Anyway. What the hell does this rambling have to do with the price of tea in China?! And when am I getting to the topic that relates to the title of this post?! OK, now.

I’m knitting a sock without a pattern. (Go me! and geez Louise. Big deal.) You know, I’ve kind of been in a knitting funk, or something. I’ve got several projects going, and I faithfully knit knit knit knit (or knit purl knit purl, all that damned stockinette) and just don’t seem to get anywhere. Blah. But then I got the new madelinetosh yarn yesterday, and it’s just so squishy (her hallmark adjective!) and all, and I cast on last night.

Wowie, knitting sport weight yarn on 3.5mm needles? Fabric flows off the needles. This yarn knits up beautifully, I now think I need to buy a sweater quantity (and find a sweater that’s not just miles of stockinette). It’s not like knitting a plain old ordinary plain vanilla sock requires any brain power – it doesn’t – but I’m knitting without a pattern. Maybe after this I can start fancying-up my own sock patterns. Socks are the easiest thing in the world to knit…..a standard canvas, set and defined sections to play with, easy breezy.

Since this colorway is called tweed, I’m calling them tweedie-pie socks. I know.

your basic sock - but wowie, the yarn

the yarn! the fabric! delicious!

The combination of the yarn, the speed, and the project seem to have cured my funk. Maybe I should just accept that I’m a sock knitter. I love knitting socks. Farewell, funk! Be gone!

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