Yesterday I wound the dyed wool into balls:

I don’t know if I was imagining it or not, but the wool seemed to have become softer.

I forgot to mention last post that I bought another under-the-bed storage box for yarn on Sunday. Believe it or not, I bought it not because I’m running out of space for my yarn, but in anticipation of stash enhancement.

The new box now contains my sock yarn. There’s plenty of room for more, which is just as well because I’ll probably do what I did last year: go to pick up my order from Sockmonster at the Mini Wool Expo (June 2, Coburb Town Hall) and end up buying more from her stall.

That’s not the only stash enhancement date coming up. Soon after I’m hoping to drop into the Australian Country Spinners shop in Wangaratta. Last time I went there I had to resist the temptation to dive into the huge, mountainous overflowing tubs of of bargain yarn. It looked like a cross between a jumping castle and a lolly shop.

I have regular daydreams of finding bags and bags of Patonyle there, cheap enough to stock up on for dyeing.

Back on planet earth, I cut ten or so rows out of the Ribble sock on Monday, dividing it where the toe met the ribbing because it’s far easier to graft stocking stitch than rib. It took hours and was difficult, but it fits much better now. And knitting a shorter foot on the second sock appeals because now I’m longing to knit socks out of the wool I just dyed.

(I only ever manage to fend off second sock syndrome because I know I’ll forget what I did on the first sock I delay knitting the second.)

I think I’m weakening to the urge to knit the beau socks. Even through he says he doesn’t want any. I’ve nearly managed to delude myself that once he tries them, he’ll like them. And then I’ll have won his heart forever.

Which is silly, because making apple crumble or chocolate mudcake is a lot faster.