Oh, Lola . . . classes on Saturday, whether they are punishment or not, kind of suck. Even the interesting ones - like the one I took - can truly suck the life out of you. The class in which I am enrolled is part of my master's program and the hours are dead easy if you factor all the other "life" stuff out: the Flyer was in another galaxy, far, far, away (somewhere in the deep midwest), the kids were busy, and it was beautiful. Beautiful, I tell you! The last thing I wanted to do was be cooped up in a hotel conference room, talking about writing.
I miss not having a steady sock in progress. They are so damn portable that when I don't have one going, I ache a little bit. Shedir is coming along, but I really have to follow that pattern. One wrong turn and the whole thing is shot to shit. I cast on for the scroll pattern scarf and I fear that it is another case of lovely soft yarn does not equal lovely yarn to knit with. We'll see about that one.
I'll post pictures of the Inside Out socks tomorrow. The digital camera is dead and I was too lazy to plug it in last night. Last night was reserved for Hot Fuzz and all that is right with the world. My, what a lovely looking pair of hand cuffs you have there, Sergeant.