umph

What with feeling better I am delightedly rummaging through my bin of sock yarns to decide who gets what  in the way of sockage.  I talked with a friend who reminded me that the enormous bin of yarn is not a liability nor is it a waste.  It is socks in their larval stage.  That settles my conscience about waste, although it doesn't stop me from adding more to the bin.
  I can live with that.  I just sometimes think that it would be nice if my wish for order didn't run directly into my rebellious side.  How do I know that I will want to knit those yarns for that person when I get to the point of it? I don't.  
All the time I spent bagging peoples names with certain sock larvae may well be in vain, because who knows if I will agree to what I thought was good way back when?  At some point All of it will evolve through my needles into warm stuff for feet, the possibility that it is an unlikely color and strange pattern is going to be the luck of the draw.  I knit out of love and not obligation.
I pulled a really wild one out and knitted it up.  It looked rather nice as a skein and better as a ball and then WHEW as the sock itself it was pretty loud.  It was purple and pink and aqua plus green and orange and sparkles.  One of the Guys at the knitting table looked it over and said "Looks like Liberace's bedroom slippers."  well then, that's alright, if a little(!) gaudy. 
Now I am working on a pair in various shades of flame red  absolutely glorious and past the heels.  I don't like the pattern, and like it less as I go. Do I morph it into something else, rip it or continue?  The debate rages mostly in my head.  I think that it will do better with another pattern.  Phoo.