After a not-so-successful Tuesday evening, Wednesday night was much better. I did laundry! I knit and didn't have to re-knit mistakes! The Yankees won! Great game, Moose.
(Does anyone remember the playoff game from a few years ago where Mussina came in as a relief pitcher for that good-for-nothing Clemens? Mussina was fabulous, and was so freaky intense that it was scary. It was his first ever relief appearance, and he shut down (I think) whomever they were playing. So good, the Moose.)
I think that the sock should be done before the end of the week. I've got less than 10 pattern repeats on the foot left to do, and then the toe! And that's it! That will leave the weekend for mustering up the courage to graft the toes. See, I'm left-handed, and all instructions for grafting are written for right-handed needle-ing. I'm really quite clumsy with the right hand, and so the process is extra complicated for me. What I really need is to make some swatches and just practice with a nice big yarn... but that's probably not going to happen.
The sock is going to be nice and stable on the ankle, which I like, but I am not a big fan of knitting through the back loop. It really slows me down, and just feels awkward. Given that most of this sock has TBLs and I'm still not accustomed to it, I don't think that it's gonna happen. Jaywalkers, next! (I know that I've said that before.)
The drink of the night was recommended by a friend, for whom I have the greatest respect as a Wine Guy. His contributions to meals are always spot-on, he knows the good dim sum places in Chinatown, and is helping us set up appointments at wineries for the summer trip to Germany. But the Ward 8 was not so exciting. Basically, it's a whiskey sour with a little bit more pink (some orange juice and grenadine). I think that I'll have to go with the Sud-Ouest this evening to restore my balance.