The flaw in the plan

The Plan: A last-minute camping trip required an hour long drive in my husband's truck. Ergo, he would be driving, leaving me free to knit. We had decided that the best bet was the leave in the evening, shortly before the kids' bedtimes, so that they would (hopefully) sleep the entire drive with minimal fussing.

The Flaw: Bedtime is after dark. You can't knit in the truck when it is dark.

The Solution: After the fact, my sweetie mentioned that he has these cool headlamps that he uses for hunting. We have two more trips of longer duration coming up in September, so I plan on, er, borrowing one (though I may forget to inform him of this) for those trips.

I was at least able knit a little on the drive home. On Grandma's socks, of course. I want to measure Grandma's feet. It may just be wishful thinking, but I believe that I may be getting closer to the toe decreases. I don't think I am there quite yet, but I want to measure to make sure that I don't accidently go too far.

Today, it is all about the best-laid plans.

New deadline

Over the weekend it occured to me: Grandma's birthday is a month away. Four weeks now. Wouldn't it be nice if I had her socks finished by then? Wouldn't handknit socks be a thoughtful birthday present? Wouldn't it be crazy for me to think that the socks I have been working on for six months will miraculously be finished in four weeks?

I have to finish these socks, before I lose my knitting mind.

Excuse me while I finished cleaning the kitchen so I can knit before bed.

Today, it is all about the ticking calendar.

Mere knitting mortal

I have been following the Yarn Harlot's self-imposed sock-of-the-month club with interest this year. Actually, it might be more accurate to say with shock and awe. A sock a month? How much knitting time does she have? I have been work almost exclusively on the same socks for months. Stephanie justs puts the rest of us mere knitting mortals to shame.

And if a sock a month wasn't bad enough, she posted yesterday that she finished a single sock in a single day. She totally deserves the hordes of adoring crowds that follow her blog chanting "We are not worthy." I have at least one fan of my knitting. Or maybe he is just trying to figure out why Mommy is taking pictures of her feet. (And please ignore the toys strewn all over the floor.)

Today, it is all about the mortality.

Conspiracy theories

I don't know how they have managed it (both being either completely or mostly non-verbal), but I know that the kids have started conspiring against me. They plan it that way. One goes down for a nap, and the other is awake. I finally get the second down for his nap, enjoy 9 minutes of peaceful silence (enough to knit one lonely row on Grandma's socks), and. . . . you get the picture.



Speaking of pictures, I considered taking some of the sock and shawl, except that they would pretty much look like the last pictures. Just scroll back a little to the previous pictures, and imagine an extra inch at the end. Then look at these two adorable boys. They are also conspiring to make sure that pictures don't show both of them smiling at the same time. Feindishly clever, and at such a young age.

I found out today that an old friend is one of the seven people a week that read my blog. (Hi Sheryl!) Knowing my former secretary is reading makes me want to proofread for typos better. Or at all.

Today, it is all about the conspiracies.

Mindless updates

Hospital knitting went fine, both the knitting part and the hospital part. The little tyke handled himself fine (aside from understandably impatient cries because he was hungry and couldn't be fed before anesthesia). Mommy and Daddy also handled ourselves fine, with minimum tears (Mommy) and impatience (Daddy.)



And the knitting was accepably captivatingly mindless. It had been so long, I was enjoying the project, but row after row of garter stitch is, well, mindless. I have kept the Merry Berry Shawl around for the occassional break from Grandma's socks, and have now remembered why I got a little bored with it.
Hundreds of tiny little stitches. Over two hundred and increasing. Of garter stitch. I used a smaller guage than the pattern specified (they were obviously smarter than I, and knew that the thicker the yarn for endless garter the better), so I have no doubt that I will end up with more than the 399 stitches listed in the pattern. There is no way I am halfway through it.

Then there is the slightly ruffled border. More increases. I don't think that I can count that high.

Today, it is all about the numbers

P.S. Grandma's socks are still progressing. Around halfway through the foot and still at it.

Anything but socks

The good news is that I am anticipating an entire day waiting, with little to do but read and/or knit. The bad news is that it is because I will be hovering around a hospital most of the day. Waiting. Knitting. Waiting. "Minor surgery" and "very routine" are little comfort when it is happening to someone you love.


So as I am packing up a bag for the day (this is one of those occasions where knitting while I am endlessly waiting might actually prevent me from committing felonies), I am experiencing a project mutiny.




I just can't work on Grandma's sock s another minute. I have completed both gussets. Both socks are again in progress as I work down the foot, and I just need a break. I wasn't meant for this sort of knitting monogomy. I get sick of looking at the same directions. I tire of looking at the same colors. The pattern become less interesting. Even the usefulness is called into question. "These socks won't fit anyway." "It is summer, why would anyone need wool handknit socks." Even though Grandma said that she wanted it roomy in the calf, I know I have made them too big.


So I went in search of a second project to take. (I am bringing the socks. I am Catholic, and we have guilt perfected to an art form. These are Grandma's socks, and I self-inposed a moratorium on all other knitting until they were finished.)


I considered something lace, which has been calling my name for so long now it is screaming), but that was quickly disregarded. Instead of occupying my mind to a degree that would distract me from the minutes ticking past, lace would likely drive me crazy within moments. I don't think I am going to have the patience or concentration for lace.






So I am thinking this. It is perfect. Light. Portable. I am enchanted with the color. I am picturing myself wearing it on a brisk fall morning. Merry Berry shawl, why did I ever put you down? Oh, well that little tangle of yarn might have something to do with it, but that was easily remedied this morning.






Then I remembered. I had been second-guessing the eyelet row. The shawl is planned to have a white slightly ruffled trim, and I was afraid that the eyelet rows would detract from it's simple elegance. At first, I thought it was part of the shaping. I didn't realize that it was an eyelet decoration. It took me a shockingly long time to realize that, actually. It wasn't part of the original plan, so it is taking me a while to warm up to the eyelets.


The yarn is a fuzzy mohair, so ripping that much is out of the question, but I could just start over today. Any thought from the peanut gallery? To eyelet or not to eyelet? We leave for the hospital in an hour, so I realize that my window is small. I think I may have to resort to the unthinkable: ask my husband for his knitting opinion. That has had limited success in the past, so I am not optimistic.


Now, excuse me while I search for a magic piece of paper. What I thought were the directions at the bottom of the shawl bag turned out to be notes from a sweater I saw at the courthouse. The directions have got to be around here somewhere.


Today, it is all about the theraputic knitting.

Technology vs. Fiber

The Contenders:

"In this corner. . . .weighing 12 pounds, consisting of tower, monitor, keyboard and mouse, five years in age and dressed all in black: Technology!"

In this corner. . . with an anticipated finished weight of 100 grams, consisting of two half-finished knitted pastel striped socks, four months in progress: Fiber!"

"Let's have a good clean competition. No rabbit or kidney punches. No clinches. Wait for the bell, and come out fighting."

My computer sometimes gets a a little sick. It just runs maddingly slow. I run too many different programs, and every click of the mouse has a lag time. Today, I was knitting while working. Click, knit half a row, click, knit, double click.

I could have just re-booted, which usuaally rights the problem, but, well, then I would have been able to justify knitting at work, right?

Today, it is all about the contenders.