The Monkey and the Banana

Lest you were concerned that in the excitement and bouncing (gently) round the room thrill about the impending arrival of baby bear I had abandoned any idea that things could be knitted in a size above 6 months old and plunged headlong into the wonderful world of baby knits (and sews and quilts and .... and ....), please be completely reassured that I have. I've utterly and completely lost sight of any woolly objective other than keeping the wee bear nice and healthy as far as I can, and ensuring that when he or she makes their arrival they will have the best possible knitted ensemble that any baby of currently unknown gender could possibly want. (We're waiting for a surprise so I'm knitting gender-neutral).

However, H's Mum has a birthday in the not too distant future and as (a) she is exceptionally appreciative of knitwear and ranks very highly in the list of people that I like knitting for and (b) I've been waiting on the yarn for the baby, I thought a pair of socks on the needles might not be a bad idea.

H had the choosing of the yarn from a selection I extracted from the stash (he isn't allowed to see the whole stash at once of course!) and having decided that his Mum has lots of pink and blue socks, we've gone green and yellow to balance it out and a very familiar pattern.

The yarn is Shelridge Farm Soft Touch Ultra which is just wonderful yarn - H loves the pair of socks he has knitted in it and they've worn incredibly well. As I was winding it up I was running through the pattern options in my mind and it kept saying bananas to me, which led me, inevitably, to Cookie A's wonderful Monkey pattern, as knit by just about everyone in the woolly world I think.

I've been working on these socks in odd moments this week, and on the train back and forth to work, and I think they're exerting subliminal messaging.

What else could explain this:

A fresh loaf of Banana Bread (recipe from Nigella's Domestic Goddess), which somehow lost it's end before the camera made it to the kitchen. An answer might of course be pregnancy cravings but as they seem to revolve around olives and pineapple I'm sticking to my first theory ...

.... beware the power of the socks!