Well- the Knitting Olympics- I did not get a gold metal. I didn't get a silver, probably not even a bronze. Oh well, I had reasons, but I shouldn't rationalize. I did, however, complete a sock and a half, thus completing my Mom's all cotton socks (I will never do that again with a wood circular needle). It was like knitting wrestling- and that would probably have to be a summer olympic-like sport, and I was contending with the Winter Olympics. Wrong year, Wrong season.
My original sweater knitting (that mitered one, see related link) proved too challenging for me, and I abandoned it in favor of a different raglan baby sweater pattern. I was able to finish the back of the baby cardigan, but none of the other pieces of it.
What have I been knitting? Well, still the mistake rib scarf of Noro Kureyon. I think I don't want to get done with it because I like the Kureyon too much. I'm funny like that, I have a hard time drinking the last of my chai mix, or eating the last of a special candy, because once it's gone, it's gone. And that would of course be tragic. Or nearly tragic.
I have some Jaywalkers in progress. My SNB friends were quick to point out that my multicolored sock yarn was proving to yield a near perfect match to my multicolored clothes, especially my indigo blue embroidered jeans. This of course spurred me on to work on the sock.
I have returned to Knitty's Branching Out scarf. I think Amy must be sending me good knitting vibes, thus permitting me to grasp the pattern with speed and high knitting quality. Thanks Amy!
I finished a few things. An orange mohair acrylic baby sweater, a grape-colored cable knit mohair purse, my Mom's socks, my husband's wool socks, that's probably it.
I have some funny stories to share too.
last week my new vehicle was ordered. I am excited, but forced to wait for its arrival. A torturous time it is, especially with my car playing psychological tricks on me.
Example one: I had a night dream in which my current car was in the parking lot outside a school. I had been in the school all day. A police car was in the parking lot as I exited the school building. I wondered why. Then, I walked to my car. It was parked perpendicular to the way parking lot lines run. Someone had moved it. Someone also had smashed in the exterior framework around the windows.
Dh said that I was psychologically trying to separate and prepare myself for a new vehicle. Sounds right to me, what do you think?
Example Two/Three: Driving on 94W behind a fuel tanker truck talking to my mom on the cell, telling her I felt like something bad was going to happen to my car to help prepare me for the new one. Suddenly a long piece of something looking like concrete about 12 inches by 4 inches came flinging off the tanker in front of me, and I responded by quickly changing lanes to avoid it. About an hour later I scratched the passenger side of my car by pulling in too closely to the concrete post by the gas pumps. My car took off some of the SuperAmerica's post paint. It was red. My new car is red. My car was trying to "become" new, like its looming replacement. This was followed by the dome light refusing to be turned off, along with the door ajar light protesting also. Oh, the battery light likes to give me little spontaneous appearances too. Electra, my car's name, is on her way out, Arenal, the new salsa red car is ready to make her entry. I hope it is soon, I'm tired of waiting.
My knitting moments have been few. I have been ready to fall asleep after eating dinner, and my attempted knitting tonight resulted in tinking instead. Yesterday I was whining at SNB- I was there for maybe half an hour, maybe not even. It was difficult to leave my friends there, since I felt like I'd just arrived.
I have been doing a crazy amount of work lately, especially today- I left my house at 7:15, and came back at about 7:15. But tomorrow am I have some resting time, possibly till the afternoon. Maybe I will have to make the trip to Coldwater Collaborative.
Lastly, another snippet~ I got my hair cut before SNB yesterday morning. I was chatting with my hair stylist, asking her what she liked to do, and one of the things she said was "I am thinking of doing a book." "Wow" I said. "That's very impressive! What do you want to 'do' it on?" She replied, "yeah, I'm thinking about reading one. I haven't read one since high school." OH...I see...can you catch where I'm heading with this? I thought she was going to write one, but she meant she was toying with the idea of reading one. Not the commitment to read one, but embracing the concept of reading a book. The instance was a wonderful example of the mysteries of communication. What we hear is not always what is meant. Now go knit!