The 2010 Olympics are just around the corner, so it's Ravelympics time again. I'm quite excited about it, since this will be my first time participating. Maybe I need to get out more, but hey! What says excitement more than thousands of knitters getting together and knitting our fingers bloody for two weeks of intense competition for no reason other than because we can?
I'm competing in Sock Hockey, with Team Blue Moon's Rockin' Sock Club. I'd tell you the name of my pattern, but then I'd have to kill you--it's that big. Not wanting to be a tease, here's a little taste of what's to come.
Training is tough. My test pair of socks is toe-up, so that I can make use of every single inch of yarn and because one of Ravelympics' rules is to stretch my knitting skills, go where this knitter has never gone before. I'm a little schooled in toe-up, but I don't recall ever knitting a pair of lace socks of my own invention. I figure I'll either know the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat. (Do NOT give me that look. You know you saw it coming.) If it has gold metal potential, this pair will end up as a gift. If they don't make the cut but are wearable, they'll end up in my sock drawer.
I can't knowing give a sub-par pair of socks to anybody, even if they don't knit. That's just bad Karma. I don't mind ripping up and starting fresh, but if a less-than-perfect, completed pair of socks doesn't make me queasy, I keep them and happily wear them. I can accept my own mistakes, I just can't inflict them on someone I like. And I only give hand-knitted gifts to someone I like. If I've given you a knitted gift, it's the dog equivalent of rolling over on my back and showing you my belly. I'll spare you the photos.