Impatient knitters knit short socks

I'm sure you're wondering why I didn't just make sock #2 the same length as sock #1. I didn't think I needed to. I thought the messed up heel would impact the way the rest of the sock fit (especially the length). However, I should have assessed more closely than to think that the pic I posted of it on my foot meant that I was ready to start the toe shaping. I'll be ripping and re-knitting this toe soon, although it's kind of neat how the striping lined up at the end there (actually added a new ball during the gusset of sock 2). First, I'm going to cast on for my Hallowig.

B's pumpkin hat is done and drying. Hopefully, he can wear it tomorrow when he and Hubby go pumpkin picking with his class.

I'm sorry Amy Lane's not talking to me anymore. I'll miss her. She really should be giving Hubby the cold shoulder. He went again last night. Bruce is one of the acts we try to catch every time he plays. Hubby's a native Jersey Boy and it's in the state constitution.

I used to hate Springsteen with a passion (mainly for Hungry Heart, which I like now, but I used to be one of those people assuming he was an ass because he was singing about an ass, but I digress). Then Hubby introduced me to his non-top 40 stuff and I agreed to go to a show. Then I was hooked. Now, we've hooked B but good. Poor kid didn't really have a choice. He went to four shows in utero (2003's Rising tour). We've been listening to Magic alot, since the release was so close to the show date and Hubby got him watching the Barcelona show on DVD. Forget Thomas or any other pre-school character. First thing B asks to do is watch Bruce on TV.