It is official. There is absolutely nothing on the needles. Nothing. Nada. And lest you think that there is a hidden twist to the tale, let me state emphatically that there is nothing on the hook either. Nothing. Nada.
Convincing my eyes that "it" really did not look that bad was, for a whole two days, an easy thing. After all, perhaps the knitting fates and foibles (?) had joined to produce something absolutely new and exciting.
Get real, Lenora! If the instructions clearly state "work these 12 rounds six times" you can not - as in can NOT - work 12 stitches six times and think the result will be functional. Especially in a sock that should at least mimic some portion of the lower limb anatomy.
Twelve rounds worked six time results in a whopping seventy two rounds of knitting. And that just might equal the leg portion of a sock. It turns out that reading - and rereading a pattern has merit.
Official nothingness on the needle or hook and the project bag are empty. This new year is not off to the most creative of beginnings. It is depressing.
PS - This post is officially post number 251 for moi. And it is about nothing.