The foot on the left is how far I can go in a day in a car with bonus sofa time later; the foot on the right is how far I can go in a day of bus commutes.
(three points if you recognize the lace pattern I plugged into my basic sock recipe.)
This is how far I can go by ignoring the 'save it for emergencies' part of mindless sock knitting when the wind is not blowing and the sun is shining on the porch steps, making a warm patch that belies the 1-degree-above-freezing temperature.
(I don't know if I can relax enough as a person to live with the fraternal aspect of these socks. I'm hoping to be able to restrain myself from ripping out one of them and rewinding the ball.)
Two thoughts have occurred to me:
If I can knit outside, spring must not be far off.
If I can have two pairs of toe-up socks all the way to the instep within 8 days of casting on the first pair in spite of going on with tons of cleaning, I must be getting faster at socks. Or more negligent about my other knitting. (which is, unfortunately, true.)
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