She's so fine, there's no telling where the money went.

At Christmas we went to the zoo.

This is near my mother, an excellent small zoo just the right size for people under five to enjoy a refreshing and adventurous day and not be quite tired enough to cry on the way back to the car.  We saw lots of excellent things like a rhinoceros, and giraffes eating Christmas trees.  There were monkeys.  And an anteater.  The giant tortoise was hiding and my nephew fed the ducks with shaky hands and nervous shrieking laughter. The coi, no dummies, tracked the path of children along the pond's edge waiting for the inevitable bounty.  Sometimes they even beat the ducks.

Just before the ducks, and after the parrots, we walked around a corner and saw these. 

Flamingos, subjects of a million pink plastic lawn tchotches, they've become some kind of shorthand for kitsch.  When I wanted to annoy my fastidious neighbor I considered a pink flamingo for the front step.  What was I thinking?

They are beautiful, so astonishingly beautiful with a thousand impossible shades of coral and pink and vermilion knees, the s-curve of their necks as they drank and the blackness of their beaks and the ripples of light in their feathers and the Seussian spindle legged feather puffs of them as they slept.

They sorta stuck with me, in this brilliant mind's eye picture, I haven't the words for it exactly, but this moment of breath lost, this moment of unexpected drenching beauty, this moment of expanded perception, these birds.  (Not for the first time I realized that human beings can be oddly reluctant to fully embrace the beauty of the world and the wickedness too.  We settle for the pink plastic lawn version too much.  What is up with that?)

Naturally, I could not resist the exact deep glowing Flamingo coloured-ness of this.  Because when you can express memory and perception in yarn, you so totally should.

Yes, that's the same yarn vendor Steph blogged last week.  Yes, I am a sheep.  Yes, you can bite me. (And yes, that is the vendor's picture.  1 million tries got me 1 million pictures of bright eye-searingly pink yarn.  Nothing like the real thing.)

469 yards, 70% superwash merino, 30% silk.  It is divine. The color is as brilliantly varied and yet harmonious as the inspirational feathers, and the silk is giving it the tiniest halo while I work with it.  I want more.  Given my history with socks (ugly, abortive, brief), probably not a fiscally prudent idea.  But the desire is there.

Yes, Lisa, I said sock. 

Really.  It is even a bit bigger now. 

A Loksin actually.  Baa. 

(In strict accuracy, I had long ago (January) decided that my next attempt at a sock would be a Loksin.  I swear it.

(I find them perfectly charming, particularly once I stopped spelling them Loskin).

This was after a recent sock attempt that went awry.  (I never told you. There was some gauge trouble.  It was very sad.  It is 'resting' now.) 

It was just the flamingo yarn that moved me to start (and who could blame me?) 

But one cannot deny the influence of strange outside forces upon one's behavior.  No matter how much one might like to claim complete autonomy in one's desires and actions.  (Ahem.)

So great yarn, great pattern, not-so great sock knitter.  It is going.  But nobody hold their breath or anything, I'd feel responsible if anything happened.

 

Comments

[Sigga Sif]

Beautiful yarn! And let me just say Loksins! (i.e. finally!). Socks are so much fun.

[farm-witch]

It is said that resistance is futile, and I must say that I am blown away by the stealth with which you've resisted. Though, troubling is that you have such great taste in color, structure, pattern for socks - I think you might be a natural which only exacerbates the propensity for addiction. In short, RUN JUNO! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!

[carrie]

Beautiful flamingo pictures. I don't know why they're such a cliche, when they're so pretty. Nice sock yarn! Welcome to the fold!

[lanea]

They are addictive, but oh so comfortable, the handmade socks.

Lovely zoo photos--thanks.

[Aubrey]

It's all over, dear. We saw the sock... You are now, officially, a sock knitter.

[Romi]

They are indeed, gorgeous! And I'll take the yarn over the lawn ornament any day! :)

[Dr. Steph]

Pretty. A perfect match.

I still think you can annoy your neighbour with a representation of something you think is beautiful ;)

[Diane]

I seem to remember from somewhere that the color intensity of flamingos changes with what they eat. For some reason, I find that makes them an even more delightful creature. At any rate, they encouraged you into sock-land!

[Jessica]

Did you say SOCK?!?

*faints*

[Donna]

There is still a spot of drool on my keyboard from when I first saw that yarn and resisted because I want to knit with what I already have. I'm so glad that you got it.

Enjoy! Socks are such delicious fun.

[gwynivar]

I'm sorry, did you say.... sock? When Juno gets back, could you have her sign in & blog? Just kidding. Woo Hoo! Socks! Considering who you hang out with, that took FREAKING forever. I mean seriously! You have some wicked-madd hold-out skills there. Lovely color to start with, absolutely.

[Cheryl]

I can see why you couldn't resist that color. I'm in love with it too.

[Lissa]

Heh. Poor Dana's getting run off her feet, I bet. I ordered some of her yarn too, the regular superwash merino. It is also quite nice, but I would like to try the silk next.

I'm thinking Uptown Boot socks for my yarn.

[Tsock Tsarina]

Well, I'm really glad you said that thing about not holding one's breath, because there was a really good chance of my turning blue. But even pictures (gorgeous though they may be) aren't evidence enough. I expect to see the REAL THING, please, live and in person, next week. And after that... you KNOW what sock you're knitting next, right? I'm a patient woman but I do have my limits. Besides, you need to get good and warmed up for the Nine Tailors.

[Lucy]

Why do we settle for plastic pink flamingoes, I wonder?

Such a delicious shade. Merino and and silk must feel heavenly, woven together.

[Abby Franquemont]

Et tu, Cass? ET TU?

We know Steph conspires to make everyone knit socks, and I'm even actually scared *I* might succumb.

[Kim]

Just feel compelled to say that I absolutely LOVE reading your blog. You're writing has a way of making me feel like I'm getting to see inside your head sometimes. It's a privaledge that I do not take for granted. Thank you.

Also, baaaa. Two completed pair of Loksins and a third on the needles.

[lizbon]

I saw flamingos in the wild once, at a distance, and it was as if I was suddenly on a slightly different planet. The combination of that pinkness and those long legs - sort of astonishing somehow. Glorious yarn.

Out of solidarity, I shall buy myself some sock-sized toothpicks this weekend and try to knit socks, too. I have never done it. We will see.

[Allyson]

In the neighborhood I grew up in there were plastic lawn flamingo "wars". It was great fun, no one knew what their house would look like when you got back from vacation!

[Marin]

Influence... Inspiration... Fine line.

(says the girl who is about to run out and buy her own Loksins pattern as a second-generation sheep.)

[Laurie]

"Seussian spindle legged feather puffs of them as they slept"

*sigh*

That yarn is pure process. Product is irrelevant.

[Webbo]

I am on-of with socks: sometimes they seem amazingly satisfying and neat, but mostly I'm too vain to put the work into something I'll hide in my shoe. Flamingos, though - flamingos I am always in favour of.

[Amy]

A very lovely sock. Your comments on the flamingos remind of the poem "The Swan" by Mary Oliver, especially the end. Good poet she was. And you're a better sock knitter than you think you are, too.

[Jocelyn]

Oh, boy. That yarn is absolutely stunning. As sheeplike as it is, I'm going to have to keep an eye out for more of that one!! I love real live flamingos -- especially the little bit of black feathers hiding under their wings; so cool.

[Michelle]

I love flamingos. They look like they're impossible, those necks. Giraffe necks are sturdier and have a four-legged body for balance.

Look at you, with a sock.

Of course, you had me with the Robert Palmer.