Happiness is Socks

Okay, socks are ONE kind of happiness, but making them is something new I’m learning and I’m finding it enormously satisfying even though I have more socks than any one woman needs. Maybe it’s “Happiness is Learning a New Skill,” although I also get tremendous happiness from the weird socks I’ve bought, like Nita’s the Loch-Ness-Monster-Pretending-To-Be-Cthulhu knee socks. The weird thing is, those socks have disappeared from the internet, much like the Loch Ness monster. I cannot find them anywhere no matter how hard I google. I’d think I’d made them up, except I own them. I can see them. I HAVE them, therefore they exist.

Where was I?

Of course, making vertically striped socks does have the added pleasure of choosing yarn and feeling like a pioneer woman. Assuming pioneer women made socks. Which they must have because where else would they get them? Which leads to the question, where did they get the yarn?

This week I’m having focus problems, but that makes me happy, too. If I start to actually focus on my problems, I’m less happy.

Enough about me. What made you happy this week?

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