it finally clicked...well, sort of

My unhealthy obsession with trying to knit a pair of socks has actually come to fruition.

With my undying gratitude to Andi for pushing/coaxing/cheering me on --- this is what I have been doing...

Knitting socks!

It has been slooooooooooooooooooooooooooow going.  And I do mean s.l.o.w.

I don't know if it is because I am so used to a hook in my hand and watching each crocheted stitch fall away neatly onto a row, but when I see all of those stitches that I have just knit or purled held captive on a needle w/o ever being let off ---- well, for some reason (yes, you can insert the word crazy here) the stitches feel trapped to me.

And then when I make a mistake in these socks (and there have been a lot of them) I can't for the life of me figure out how to fix the mistake.  A mistake in crochet is easily fixable --- but holey moley, a mistake in knitting is unintelligable for me.  Completely scratch-my-head-what-in-the-heck-do-I-do-now?! feeling.

But the yarn is gorgeous.  Not only in color but also the feeling of it in my fingers is yarn therapy.  Truly.

The directions are clear & concise.  Oh, so easy for the average Knitting Joe.  But for me?  I feel as if I am learning a new language.

And it doesn't help that perimenopause is knocking at my door.  And that is door I do.not.want.to.open.  "Wrong house!" I seriously want to yell. 

My very funny sister knows this unwelcome guest is darkening my doorway, so of course! -- she sends this supportive-cheer-me-up birthday card.....

So much for supportive sisters (ahem.) and I'll just get my therapy in the form of yarn, thank you.