Once again, knitting has smacked me down for my pride and vanity. I have entered some sort of knitting black hole. I knit and knit, for hours, and the ball of yarn doesn't seem to get any smaller.
I have been screaming along at warp speed on Aurora for a month now, so it was bound to happen sometime.
Just over two hours of knitting last night at Knitter-vention, and I left still knitting on the same [expletive deleted] ball of yarn with which I started. The tiny little ball that I wound after the skein was too empty to maintain structure as a skein. The one that I thought I was "certainly" finish last night, and planned to get halfway through the last ball. My shawl kept growing and growing, but the ball didn't get any smaller.
The shawl is now 6 feet 9 inches. I had to stand on a stool and stretch my arm to the ceiling to hold it up. Inch after inch, stripe after stripe, the shawl grew, the ball remained.
Wait! I have discovered a magic ball of yarn. A magic ball of Noro! You can knit and knit, and the ball never gets smaller. Shawls, hats, scraves, sweaters, all from the same ball of yarn.
I think I will knit a sweater next. Then I will knit a shawl for Teresa. Assuming the ball of yarn keeps its magical powers.
Today, it is all about the magic.
6 months ago
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