How not to write a tutorial.

1. Do not think that tackling a new technique will be a nice break from studying. 2. Do not attempt this new technique on four hours of sleep. 3. Do not take photos of said technique to create what you think is a much needed photograph tutorial. You will only document your failure and shame. And yet I have done all three of these things. Behold, Wendy Johnson's toe-up sock pattern. Can you tell what I've done wrong? (Click here for a really large version) Yes, I wrapped the yarn around all of the stitches every time. As I was knitting, my thoughts went something like this: This doesn't seem right...but I don't know anything about toe-up socks, maybe this is correct. One more row, then it'll be obvious whether I've screwed up or not. Ok, one more after that. Just one more. Yikes. PUT THE NEEDLES DOWN AND STEP AWAY FROM THE SOCK. This all happened, of course, before I found the toe-up sock guide on Knitty. So tomorrow, I will tackle the sock again -- this time with more photogenic and less embarrassing results. But I like to think I participated in the jolly spirit of Socktoberfest. I tried something new! I learned something! I made something that should have resembled a sock! Hooray, beer for everyone! --------------------------- Here in Tennessee, we get spiders. Not normal, East Coast spiders that are generally small, maybe a little jumpy, but mostly timid. These Southern things are the size of silver dollars, slow, ancient, and cranky. They hang around on my back porch where I imagine they discuss the deep and sinister secrets of the universe and bare their fangs at crickets. And yesterday, one of them was in my bathroom. I panicked. I thought it might eat the cat or begin eating me in my sleep. I couldn't crush it with a shoe -- I was afraid of the crunching sound and the possibility that it would just shove the shoe back at me -- so I got the bug spray. I use the bug spray reluctantly because of Otto (even though it's supposedly safe for pets), but I just couldn't bring myself to get a shoe. The bug spray is for these situations. I turned on the bathroom fan, shut the door, stood on the toilet seat lid, and sprayed the beast. It meandered up the wall a little. I sprayed again. It moved a bit to the left. I sprayed again and it tucked itself into a corner behind the molding around the door. It took me five minutes to get it to drop off the wall, when this spray has defeated all other spiders it's encountered within thirty seconds. This thing is ancient, powerful, and not going down easily. After it finally fell off the wall, I pushed trash can in front of it and ran away. I'd left a good two-foot long spray of pesticide on the wall following it as it wandered away from my attacks. Today, I had the door shut with the fan on all day long, and the smell had finally dissipated by the time I got home at 5. I mention this only because I finally checked behind the trash can a few minutes ago, about 24 hours after the spraying. It was still twitching. If anyone needs me, I'll be on top of the bookcase with all of my shoes and the telephone book. P.S. The Perfect Sweater pattern is up over at Mason-Dixon Knitting.