Monkey socks and .... cats

It's just too bloody hot outside these days.
And our little home under the roof is also just too bloody hot these days.
Luckily, or maybe not, the last exam paper is to be handed in Friday, and so I have an absolutely valid reason for sitting in a heap of books and paper on the floor in my pajamas all day, working and eating strawberries, while the cats take turns napping in the chair when not stepping across the keyboard.
And after the Waist-cincher/Boob-enhancer top fiasco (read: challenge I have yet to take up), I desperately needed a quickish knit with guaranteed success (more or less).
Monkey socks!
The pattern reminds me of water falling over rocks more than monkeys, though.
And the Opal Party has finally found its calling.
(Lured by the glamourous life of Linnea's travelling Jaysocks, The Party first wanted to become Jaywalkers, but since trips to Florence and German castles are not part of the pattern and could not be promised, becoming Monkeys was the next-best thing)
I have, of course, chosen to ignore the twisted rib, as I cast on for them at work yesterday, and somehow the word twisted escaped my attention.
Ordinary rib is good enough for me. Much less work.
(The Party first had a short stint as potential Pomatomus, which may or may not be spelled like that, but THAT was too much hard work, and not enough fun. For me. They are beautiful though.)