Isn’t it sweet how I thought I was done with it? Well, it wasn’t done with me. This thing is cursed, I tell you, cursed.
If I read auspices I may have gotten a clue from this shawl’s beginnings. This was a souvenir purchase while on a family vacation during which the car broke down not once but twice in two days in completely different ways and the second time so spectacularly that we rented a car and continued on because our choices were either do that and get where we were going or hang out in a suburban Indiana Holiday Inn until the car was either fixed or declared beyond repair in 4 or 7 days and go home.
Then the moth(s). Hubs tells me there was only one moth. Like he used to tell me there was only one mouse in our infested apartment building. I was just catching the same one over and over. I’ve never been able to figure out whether he’s optimistic or in denial.
Then… then… then I burned it up in the oven practicing due potential-moth-egg-and-larva-killing-diligence.
I’d been baking or freezing all my yarn and finished projects since I spotted the moth without incident and I just can’t explain what happened here.
The last few weeks I’ve been swimming against the current. I think if I just stick with a thing it’ll turn out, but some things the harder you try the worse it seems to get. Right not this feels like a lot of wasted money and wasted effort and that stings. I’m down, but I’m not out. I’m stubborn and resourceful and I’m going to figure something out. But I’m going to wait until my wounded pride begins to heal and I feel the current change or I learn how to swim in it, whichever comes first.
Who needs gauge? Not this girl. That’s the short story about how this shawl became a blanket. Or would be if I had enough yarn to finish it.
The long story involves the purchase of 5 skeins of Brooklyn Tweed Loft while on vacation, the realization those 5 skeins would never make it, the procurement of 2 additional skeins that surely would, and the one last skein that is still needed when they didn’t. I ran out with 18 edge chart repeats to go. It wasn’t even close.
If you’re going to play it fast and loose you gotta suffer the repercussions.
I was probably never going to wear this in public, anyways, she said petulantly. If I ever finish the dang thing.
I’ve finished my knitting and gift projects (except for husband’s shirt which is still in time out a month later and might not make it under the tree) and I thought I was going to make a bunch of gnomes because cute! but then I went to tidy the guest room in anticipation of the hoards of marauding children that would storm our house during our holiday open house and as I was tossing things into the closet my eyes crossed the stashed ziplock bag of 5 skeins of Brooklyn Tweed Loft that I bought last summer when we stopped in St. Louis for a few days on our way to Pittsburgh. The stop was scheduled and the yarn stores were scoped out beforehand, but the trip to the car mechanic for brake work was not which threw a literal and metaphorical wrench into our plans. Happily, the mechanic shop turned out to be within walking distance of a donut shop and Knitorious. I managed to spill an entire large cup of steaming hot coffee straight into my purse at the donut shop and the walk to the yarn store wouldn’t have been an an easy one with two small kids in tow even without heading in entirely the wrong direction at first but we persevered and dammit if I wasn’t leaving that yarn store without some reward. 5 skeins of Loft, an awesome hat kit, and a margarita with lunch helped a bunch.
I bought these skeins to make Leaves of Grass and it’s just the thing I want to be working on as we ramp up to the holiday high times. It’s nubbly, warm, and comforting.
Our car troubles weren’t over, but that’s enough about our most recent Griswold family vacation.
I love knitting lace! I do not love wearing lace. I have a stack of finished knitted lace shawls probably being eaten up by bugs as I type this. I’ve made really intricate lace for fun and simpler, modern knits that I thought would be more wearable, but I am a habitual person and when it gets chilly I still don the Clapotis I made out of Noro Silk Garden Sock way back in 2009.
Wow, has it been 8 years already? Where does being “habitual” end and “in a rut” begin?
Back to the task at hand. If I’m not going to wear lace I thought maybe my table could.
Of course I’m already worrying about stains so my table may not be lace-adorned after all. Is it gauche to put this under a clear plastic tablecloth? Undoubtedly. I may need to rethink this plan. That or only serve white foods at Christmas dinner.