I am not supposed to be knitting. My fingers, hands and arms remind me of this dreary fact in the middle of the night, every night, and have done so for months, by waking me with either their acute numbness or their excruciating painfulness. Or, even more delightfully, both. /sarcasm
Despite doctor’s orders, I have (slowly) been knitting. I am in the midst of two — that’s right, I said two — pairs of socks, both designed by Cookie A and therefore full of twists and turns and complications. So, so not easy on my hands. I currently am averaging a couple of rounds a week on one of those pair. Needless to say, they will not be finished any time soon.
Additionally, I recently finished the shawl in the photo above. The final few, interminable rows of that had me in tears more than once. My own fault really. In adding more short rows than the pattern called for, I added many more stitches. I decided for my mental health’s sake not to count how many I bound off in the end. Over the course of two days.
One slightly unseasonably cool day last week made me realize that Pippa the dog will need winter clothing soon. (Have you met Pippa? She came into our lives this past March. I am told by those close to me that this was my idea. Which I do not remember having. Anyway, she has immeasurably enriched our lives.) At just 12 lbs with tags and collar, Pippa is a slender, short-haired wisp of a thing. Last fall I knit a sweater of sorts for Carmen the dog. And that cool day last week, again despite doctor’s orders, it occurred to me that I might need to knit another for Pippa before the snow flies. So I did what any reasonable, capable knitter (I may not be either one at this point) would do, and I dove into the tower of plastic bins in which I keep all the yarns in the world, and searched for suitable wool to knit a sweater for a slip of a dog. If you are a knitter, you know what happened next.
How to explain to the non-knitter? The tower of plastic bins holding all the yarn in the world (ok, all the yarn in my world) is like the rabbit-hole in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. There are exotic, weird, and wonderful things in there. Distraction upon distraction, interesting tale upon interesting tale, trail through the woods upon trail … You get the idea.
There I found this lovely and wild skein of fingering weight yarn, a gift sent years ago by an Australian friend, and thought “Wow! Why have I never made anything with this?” And so spent a little while winding it into a ball, admiring its ridiculous Crayola-box vividness, looking for a suitable pattern — all completely unrelated to the tiny problem that sent me stash-diving in the first place as it is completely unsuitable for a dog’s warm woolen sweater.
I settled on a pattern for the yarn, but it is to be a gift, if not for this coming Christmas, then Christmas 2015. Or 2016. After I have learned to knit with my feet. Pippa’s hand-knit sweater may have to wait a bit longer.