Splish, crash, sigh, splish, crash, sigh

I miss the sound of the sea. Slung in my hammock at the weekend I could look out over the bay and see this:


And hear the waves lapping at the cliff beneath me, and swing gently in the westerly, and bathe in the sunshine - which incidentally feels a lot hotter in Devon than in Warwickshire - I think it's to do with reflections off the clouds and the sea and we gave up trying to figure out if Devon is nearer the sun so if anyone knows, let me know.

But all of this R&R was not without industry - I was knitting a wholly location-appropriate sock:


Well if we're being technical, Falmouth and the Helford river are a few miles down the coast but it counts as close enough as I've sailed around that neck of the woods many times so it's all very familiar! This is the start of the Frenchmans Creek sock by the Tsock Tsarina and is part 2 of the Flock Sock Club this year. You can just make out the start of the gulls and the waves or ropes of La Mouette.

Hopefully if the torrential rain will stop at some point I will be able to show you a picture of the currently almost finished sock - it's very pretty.

In the meantime, and as I have few pretty pictures I shall send you off to another black hole, the newly launched Twist Collective. I may perhaps be said to 'misspeak' (a la Hillary) if I deny that any of these patterns followed me home. It's up to you to guess which ones!