... is that not everybody likes it.
Me? I love it. I was raised by Care Bears. In a disco. Run by Clowns. So, where’s the problem? Well, the thought of Christmas gift knitting has started to creep into my mind and I have my heart set on a pair of socks for each of my nearest and dearest, but the truth is that genetics do not seem to control our colour preferences. I am not too concerned about choices for my sisters – though they’d not embrace the fashion stylings of a Gyles Brandreth jumper, a colourful pair of socks hidden away under some jeans will (hopefully) not disgust them too much. The difficulty, however, starts with my sisters’ partners. Both, by their own admission, rather conservative chaps. A pair of socks knitted from the tail-hairs of a My Little Pony aren’t going to make it onto their feet. My issue, though, that I just can’t seem to buy sensible sock yarn. I have tried, really I have, and look at the extent of my success thus far:
Whilst I prepare myself for that leap, though, I’m happily filling my cart with two Zauberballs in the shades ‘Tropical Fish’ and ‘Crazy Little Fox’.