Ouch Redux

Last night I had to admit something very difficult: I couldn't knit. My sore wrist has expanded in scope to include most of my hand, such that opening things is becoming difficult, I'm losing a bit of hand strength, and any motion involving twisting of that particular appendage is a big no no. It finally sunk into my thick skull that maybe it was time to put the needles down for a few days and let those tendons and ligaments have a break*.

But...it was Friday night, The Matrix** was on TV, and I had to do something with my hands - Gourds forbid that I just sit there idle in front of the boob tube. What to do?

I'd had a brief chat with Alisha early in the day about spindles, so I decided to pick up my long-neglected Bossie and get reacquainted.

The end result of which was finishing off half of the superwash merino/alpaca that Morgaine sent along when I bought the spindle and starting on the second half. I even figured out what I'm going to do with it: plied with some undyed nylon, this yarn will become the toes/soles/heels (if needed) of the cabled socks I'm going to knit (someday) out of my Peat superwash merino. It will be 1 ply of nylon with the 2 SW merino/alpaca singles, and should make for some really warm socks.

The only question now is who will get them? The front runner is me, but Ironman has really bad circulation in his feet, so making them for him might be in my best interests. We'll see. Given the long queue of Christmas knitting that has now been put on hold, it might be next winter before these socks even get thought about, much less cast on.

*My hand definitely feels better today, so we're making progress.
**I had a sad moment last night when The Matrix ran smack dab into the brick wall that is neurodevelopmental reality*** at 75 mph. The problem being that if Nemo**** Neo really has never used his eyes when he gets freed from his little battery cocoon by Morpheus et al, then he wouldn't be able to see. No input to the visual cortex during the critical developmental period early in life means no vision. Just ask the cats.
***Yes, I am overedumacated. Why do you ask?
****True typo. Really.