Hah, bumbug

It's beginning to look a bit like Christmas - I know this, because my mother mentions it in every second sentence. I've never had a liking for the holiday much. It seems to detract people's attention away from my birthday, a far more auspicious day of birth that anything to do with religion,*












The presents are coming along nicely. I've spent the last weekend knitting up the first in a pair of Rainy Day socks in Jo Sharp Alpaca Silk Georgette. Are they for me? No. A friend of mine? No. A relative? No.

My mum dragooned me into knitting her best friend a pair of socks for Christmas. If I don't win best ever daughter status from this, I never will.

I spent Sunday afternoon with Chantal and Lettisia at Chantal's house, drinking bubbly, watching Ladyhawke and knitting away ferociously. It was a wonderful afternoon (Chantal is the überhost) and I finished off sock one and the picot edge on sock two, which I have learned is a lot of fun to do. Beware family: many picot edged socks are in your future.

The best part? Chantal turned her first heel. I feel so proud.

*Don't stone me! I'm kidding!