So we decided that we'd hit a known dive for lunch, and when I say "dive," I don't mean the usual kind of dives we frequent. The usual kind of dives we frequent at least have a kid's menu. The kind we chose today was definitely not kid friendly. Shoot, come to think of it, when I was 16 and worked at the pizza joint that is adjacent to it, it was absolutely forbidden that I set foot in that place, much less get within 20 feet, which wasn't easy because the two front doors are so close that, if your first name were "Stretch" you just might be able to put one finger from one hand on the pizza door and the other finger from the other hand on this joint's front door without too much trouble.
So knowing all the lore of the place (been there since forever, gritty, police action on weekends, lots of naughty college students drinking that nasty stuff that tastes like Vicks44, don't ask for silverware, or worse: your cheeseburger "protein style"), we went anyway thinking that the lure of their practically historically delicious burgers would be the treat of the week. Not to mention, now that I am of an advanced age, my daddy can't tell me not to go.
Everything is pool tables and darts, just as I had imagined all these years. We sat down and ordered (the white wine came from a tiny screw-top airplane style tiny bottle) and I sat there, the only gal in the room, and listened to the regulars at the bar discuss the usual stuff until the conversation prattled over to their blood pressure.
One guy said, "You know, my blood pressure went way up and I've had to begin to exercise." The guy a couple stools down said, "these burgers sure won't help your condition!" And just as one of the guys got up from his stool to go out for a smoke, the first guy, the one with the blood pressure said: "Oh, my diet's alright the way it is, especially since I started the water aerobics."
While I waited for the rest of the group to fall out of their bar stools, laughing, the third guy to the left looked down into his beer and said: "I always wanted to do that."
Only in California.
Speaking of "I always wanted to do that," I sort of always wanted to do socks from the toe up, but since socks my usual way is so automatic and doesn't require a pattern or anything like that, I never gave it a second thought.
But I got a review copy of Wendy D. Johnson's book, Toe-Up Socks for Every Body, (it will be available in March), I thought I'd give one of her patterns a shot. This particular book isn't a beginner book (she has another one, I think, that is more beginner-ish), but it has a great reference section that describes different cast on methods to begin the sock so the toe is seamless. I chose the one called "Judy's Magic Cast On" and in one short re-run of Beverly Hills, 90210, I managed to figure it out and knit this much of the toe.
Although I am used to the structure that toe decreases provide--the type you get when you work a cuff-down sock--I'm keeping an open mind. I like how easy the toe was to do, in spite of my initial resistance. Not to mention, once I work one sock, I'll very likely feel comfortable enough to do two at a time and avoid that nasty, ever-so-present-in-my-house nonsense that is known as "Second Sock Syndrome."
If you don't know what that nonsense is, Google it.
Oh, and I'm doing the Sneaky Argyle Socks, Malabrigo Sock in a teal and the accents will be in a tangerine color.