This is what it looks like when I finally stop stalling and pull out the makings of the Christmas stockings.

even messier than it looks

It’s reminiscent of some sort of holiday monster with the bells like eyes and the needles tentacles–vaguely lobster-like.  At least I have all the colors, needles, and the bells.  And of course, there’s the pattern from Bernat, a well-used, creased and crinkled copy of my grandmother’s well-used copy, full of her handwriting when she was mapping out different kids’ names.

Who are Rebecca and Jennifer and Cecelia, anyway?

Isn’t it said that a stocking of a thousand rows begins with 1 stitch? Heck, I’ve got the whole first row cast on…of the first of two stockings I’ve got to make and send up to Rhode Island…or else.   Shoot, I started my daughter’s stocking on Christmas Eve of her first Christmas. Knit all day and into the evening, through the reading of A Visit From St. Nicholas (the Grandma Moses’ illustrated version). After the story, when it was time to hang the stockings up, it wasn’t quite sewn up yet. My 4 year old son was worried, but the 9 month old was quite relaxed. I finished it before I went to bed, and all was well, so I’m barely feeling the pressure for these two stockings…yet.

Here’s how the first one looks now, hung by the chimney with care:

Babies don’t need presents anyway.

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