Some Trouble in Paradise

Trouble the first, or, the first rock in the garden path

I went out this morning to check my garden and see how it spent the weekend. The good news is that everything is growing, there are flowers where there should be (on the tomatoes, cukes, green beans, and peas), and I picked some more basil. There's mint growing where none was planted, the catnip is looking less like a plant and more like a bush, and overall it's happy days.

Except that a couple of the cuke plants are missing leaves. Whole leaves, indicating critter rather than bug. All of the leaves, from one of the plants. (Poor thing has a big, healthy flower, too. Wonder how long that will last. Can the plant continue without leaves?)

The plants are still there, they're not dead yet, but it's not a good thing. It bodes ill, may I say. If it turns out that the peas* are next, I will be even more sorry that I forgot my camera today. It might have been my last sight of them!

*Not the peas! They're growing, and flowering, and tendrilling, and when I bent over them to pull out some weeds, I found that they even smell like peas! Please, don't eat the peas!

You know how I was all philosophical, and said that I would try to garden again this year and see what happened, and hope for the best, and not expect too much, and all that?

Yeah. Not really. That was before everything started growing and flowering and encouraging me to bond with it. I am now (you knew it would happen, didn't you?) emotionally invested in my garden.

Stupid critter. I'm trying not to get upset before anything more happens, but still, grrr.

Trouble the second, or, are those socks done yet?

Almost?

Kind of?

Except for the problem?

Yeah. The Banish February socks, whose bright colors helped me survive both February and March.

When I finished the first sock, I found that the bind-off edge was a little tight around my (dainty, doll-sized) leg. I had followed the advice that I read somewhere, and bound off over two needles instead of one (which was very fiddly, by the way), but it was still not perfect. Rather than re-do it right away, I decided that I would make the second sock and try binding off over a bigger needle, and see how that worked.

This weekend, I picked up the socks, which have been ready for me for a while, and did just that with the second sock. Instead of binding off over two size two needles, I bound off over one size 11. And I was happy with it! It was much more comfy than the first one. I wore the sock for a while Saturday night, and was moderately pleased.

So, I undid the bind-off on the first sock, which was a total and complete PITA, and last night I got to the point of re-doing the bind-off on the 11. I did just what I did on the second sock, and when I went to pull it on, the edge is so tight I can't get it all the way up my leg.

Not just snug. Not uncomfortable. Can't get it up. Instead of making it better, I made it worse. And I don't even know how.

I kind of lost it. I believe that the words "I never want to see you again!" were directed, loudly, at the socks, as they were shoved into a bag and put out of sight. And then I sat there, seething, trying to calm down but not getting very far, until Pan got down off the back of the couch and came and sat on my lap, purring (he hates to see me upset).

It was just so frustrating. I figured out what was wrong, I overcame obstacles, and it's now worse than when I started "fixing" it. Argh.

Mind you, when it happened I thought I wasn't even going to tell anyone, just pretend that they never happened, be all "What socks?" So I have made emotional progress.

Just not a lot.

Commuter notes

• Do you think that a BWM with a custom plate that says BUFFETT is a fan of Jimmy or Warren?
• To the guy in the black pick-up who drove right up behind me on Route 3, rode my bumper for 30 seconds waiting for me to move out of your way, then gave up and swept past me: it's hard to look like a bad-ass when your bumper sports one of these:

I'm just saying.