Humongous Hubbie Sock

Humongous Hubbie Sock
Originally uploaded by The Stitchin Sheep.

Françoise asked in the comments for my Feather and Fan Shawl, "What's next?". It's hard to tell if she meant she wanted to know which project was next or which shawl I'd like to conquer next (since she whips out complicated, lacey shawls like they're garter stitch scarves). I've got a little hankering to do the Sampler Shawl in Cheryl Oberle's Folk Shawls book, but I'm not sure I've got any yarn in the stash that would suit the pattern. It also has a 400-hundred-some-odd stitch cast-on row. You've got to be brave to do that.

So, instead of that, I'll show you what's up next on the list of finished objects. I know, it's a bit overzealous and maybe too cocky (as we all know our knitting can get a little snooty when we get cocky), but I'll show you the couple of items I've been working on lately that I want to get finished in the near future. For some reason, I've been in the mood to actually finish things. Maybe it's a lack of inspiration for new projects, but I don't think so. I like to think it's diligance.

Anyway, so here is the first sock I made for my husband. It's huge, as the post title states (I wasn't calling my husband humongous... though, if the sock fits...). I love the way this yarn knits up. It's just a plain ole sock, because, you know, I figured he wouldn't appreciate the lacey number I would have prefered to knit.

So, right here, right now, I vow to finish the second sock before it's cold enough for him to use it. Besides, I sort of owe him now. No, he didn't fulfill any naughty fantasies for me. In fact, it's even more embarrassing to admit than that would be. I shrunk a pair of hand-knit socks. My last secret pal was so sweet she sent him a wonderfully knit pair of black wool socks. I misjudged them. I thought they were acrylic (I really should have asked) and slipped them in the wash after the kids got ahold of them and got them dirty. Good news, though, is that I've got a brand new, never-been-worn pair of black socks that fit me just right. He swears I did it on purpose. I swear I didn't, but thanks, Gayle, for the new socks (and, sorry I shrunk them)!