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After setting my Kerrera coat aside to dry and await toggles, I grabbed some pretty sock yarn from the stash and cast on a new sock. I don’t know how this happened, but in the space of less than a week, I produced a beautiful, perfect, utterly flawless sock.


Completely lacking in flaw.

It’s lovely. It fits perfectly, from the snug toe to the perfect heel to the tight rib to the springy bind-off.


If you see a better toe, I suggest you wear it.

And talk about soft: it’s a bamboo sock yarn, no animal fibres, and it’s as silky as a panda’s pudenda.


Flaw. Less.

And the colours! Soft mushroom pink, cream, and dark rose. Not colours I’d normally pick from a buffet, but here they have subtlety and charm that sets them apart.


Pretty, springy, and uncannily like some sort of sock maw.

I don’t think I’ve ever done a better Surprisingly Stretchy Bind-Off, either. This one sits nicely — no saggy loops — and springs open to accommodate the pull over my foot, no problems. I’m far from the first knitter to point this out, but there is something wonderful about having one small area of your life you can completely control. This sock is flawless because I made it flawless. Me. I did it! It’s ALL BETHINI. And I get to reap the rewards of said perfection.


Flawless 2: Electric Boogaloo

And here is its now-perfect upcoming mate. I don’t know what has been going on in my head — some sort of electrical storm or plague or something — but there’s been a few false starts here. I read my notes from the first one, and immediately cast on something entirely different (I may, to use my Nanini’s phrase, have had a few sherbets by then). I pulled it back, reread the notes, and recast on. Diligently following my notes led me to disaster, as well, since it seems there is no solid relationship between the original sock and the notes I had made. Take three: a guess. A wrong guess. Take four: now we’re talking. So it goes — all this knitting and ripping back and reknitting and ripping back added, oh, about two hours to the progress. Which is really only an evening or so’s worth. Hardly a dramatic setback, and anyway, I like knitting.

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