Stranger Anxiety

I've turned the heel on the first sock. I'll spare you the picture: it looks like a heel. It took me only two tries. I frogged the first attempt and tinked 8 rows of the foot because it was too long the first time. If anyone can tell me an easy way of tinking a cable pattern in stretchy yarn, I'd be pleased to hear of it.

Although it looks at least as presentable so far as any other sock I've ever knit, and despite the reassurances of Ann, Margene and Anne — thanks! — all of a sudden I find that, like Cara, I'm a bundle of nerves about this whole thing. I mean, I don't know my sock pal, except from her blog. I can't sneak up on her and measure her foot while she's asleep, or go shopping with her and hold up socks to get her reaction. (This is not a bad thing, since I would probably be about as subtle as a train wreck.) I know her favorite colors and her general preferences, but still I wonder: will she like the socks? Really, really like them? Or will she think they're too plain, or too fancy, or too tall, or too short, or too hard, or too soft? Does she have a pathological aversion (I'm clearly pathological, why shouldn't she be?) to short-row toes and heels? Or solid colors? And that's not even getting into fit issues. Yes, of course I have her measurements, but I will not be denied my moment of neurosis.

So, as I pick up my needles and prepare to work my way up the leg, let me say: don't shoot me, sock pal. I'm doing the best I can.