Look what came today!

Handpainted Opal sock yarn! Sent by Miss Florence Knitingale as a draw prize (remember those squares I sent?). I have a languishing pomatomus to finish first, but this will be Chris-sized socks as soon as that's done. Not that I don't love grey myself (and wear it more than any other colour), but I feel a bit guilty that I get all the lush hand-painted socks, and he gets the boring ones, because his job is very hard on socks. And then there's the man-colour thing, which I never expected. My father's two favourite colours are purple and mustard. He wore knee-breeches for a large part of my childhood. He even occasionally wore leather knee-breeches. (He was a gamekeeper. They were practical. And he's a bit of a dandy in his own way). My brother is many many things, but a restrained dresser has never been one of them. I'm getting used to the man-colour thing, but it's taking me time. At least he has small feet (and a small chest measurement).

PS - to anyone who's blown the picture up. That moth in the background? It's very very dead. And it's not a wool-eating one anyway. But yes, I am a sloven.