Socks. Frickin' stripey socks.

Y'all may remember, not too long ago, I finished a sock and, good little knitter that I am, I pulled out the second ball of yarn and started knitting away at it's mate. So I'm knitting happily away, past the toe, and on to the foot, when, for once, I stop to think. "This doesn't look right. The stripes aren't supposed to be this wide." I run to the next room, grab the first sock, and compare.

Yeah. That's not right. Plus, not only are the stripes different, but so is the gauge. The finished sock has a nice hand to it, very comfy on the the feet. The other one is pretty much bullet proof. And since I don't foresee anyone taking pot shots at my toes, that's not a good thing.

Right now, I'm thinking I'll rip back a bit on the finished sock, and use the rest of that ball to make anklets (I'm pretty sure I have enough yarn. Almost positive, in fact.) As for the other ball... well, this is also the yarn with about six different trouble spots, so I may just ... lose it. You know, in the couch or the trash can. Someplace like that.