In the midst of pre-flight Christmas Eve mania, packing, delivering animals to their respective holiday camps, etc I had the foresight to sort through my various knitting projects in search of an appropriate aeroplane project. Finding nothing suitable, I grabbed a no name, inoffensive looking ball of yarn, some bamboo needles (in case of security official unpleasantness) and once we were safely past the bumpy take-off bits, I cast on.
Unfortunately I had not had the foresight to look up the instructions for toe-up socks and teach myself that method once and for all (next pair, I always promise myself). And so it was my usual top-down socks. I must love the adrenalin of never being confident there'll be enough yarn to complete the second sock. I live on the edge, me.
There was enough yarn, happily. Even more happily, the yarn knitted up in a wholly unexpected carnivalesque manner. I don't know if carnivalesque is a word, but it should be if only to describe these socks.