Happy Birthday, Sis!

Hey, little sister--since you turned twenty-one yesterday, you're probably busy nursing a hangover and wondering why your big sister hasn't produced any lovely hand-knitted socks for you. I mean, come on--she measured your feet when you visited in March, she made a big point of buying non-wool sock yarn--it really couldn't have been more obvious.

So, you ask: where's the goods? I reply--with much embarrassment and regret--they're here. Or rather it (as in socko numero uno)'s here, on my foot, waiting to be Kitchenered together.

I won't offer excuses, won't blame anyone except myself for my tardiness. Here's hoping you can forgive your big sister, who promises to knit night and day until you have a full pair of socks, hopefully at least a fraction as fabulous as you are. Happy Birthday!