Last night, at knit night, I reached THAT POINT.
You may have a few questions about what point in particular I am referring too. We knitters are a willy and warm bunch, but we aren’t much for the organizational thing. (It takes too much time away from the knitting.) Because of this we have yet to get to decide what point in particular that the phrase “THAT POINT” refers too. Here are a few of the things that it mean.
1. The point at which you are done with a project emotionally, before you’re done with it physically. This is probably the most common meaning of “THAT POINT.” This can come at any point in a project, be it after the first pattern repeat, or right before the bind off. It’s not a fun place.
2. The point at which you discover a huge, honking, and disastrous mistake on the second row. The only way to fix it is to rip back to the cast on, and start over. This moment too, is not fun, though it can be reflective, tearful, and/or joyous, if you’re one of those annoying optimistic types who remember to say things like, ” Yay, more of my favorite hobbie.” I generally fall into the first set, with a brief moment at the last one, where I say things like the favorite hobbie thing, and also mutter things about “bang for buck.”
3. The big moment at a project where you start to see, that while you still have a good amount of knitting left, you are starting to head down the home stretch. This is a good place. You’ve got whole body parts done, and are just working on joining them together, and then putting on the finishing touches.
Guess which one I’m at. Hell, I’m being so chipper that you probably already know.(The title of this entry also might have clued you in.) I’m at number three. Good ole’ number three.
I’ve united the body and sleeves for the yoke, and have worked about three rows. That’s one of the few downsides to this method of making sweaters, you have a long stretch of knitting where the stitches are well more than three hundred. Sigh. But it really is down the home stretch from here, and once I get past the first decrease row, it will go TONS quicker. More on this later, plus a picture. I’ll tell you some mod’s I’ll be making, and what I’m planning to do for the yoke. (It’ll shock you.)
Though, last night I did notice, for the first time in any of my knitting, that it smelled like ciggerette smoke. Yuk, I’m tempted to wash it, even though it’s still on the needles.
In other news, I’m having quite a busy summer this year, and I’m more or less, loving every minute of it. I’m keeping myself pretty busy this year, with the garden, berrying season, writing more words in a day than I speak, working at the bookshop, and the clothing store, knitting my fingers to the bone, doing the housework, and just in generally trying to stay upbeat, which is easy to do when I keep busy. Not to mention enjoying blogging about everything under the sun, which is always fun, and I’m sure you’re enjoying it. (And a reader I know in real life, actually mentioned, or complained, depending on how you look at it, that my entries are too frequent and too long. Well, I’ve just got a lot to say, and here I can be as snarky as I like, which isn’t too much because I’m just generally nice, and not a bit conceded.)
Though, it is hard to stay upbeat, if only for one reason. Yesterday, in what was one of the best and worst moments of the year, I did something big. Words cannot convey the huge-ness of the situation. Be prepared to be scared.
I . . .
I. . .
I watched . . . the very last episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer!!!!!!!
Mock me at will. Though let me say that I’ve been working on this since October. My, life was so much simpler than. There was no baby on the way, I worked and slept in different rooms, the working one was a little too close to the kitchen. I had a ride to knitting every week, and I could walk around bundled up in sweaters without dying of heat. Oh well, I didn’t have a spinning wheel then.
It’s a little bittersweet for me, to be done with Buffy, mostly because life has been one hell of a wild and crazy roller coaster since then. I won’t go into details, because that isn’t fair to other people, who were, and are, being effected in a much more real way than I am. But, through all the middle of this, I had, what seemed at the time, to be a never-ending supply of dorky TV just sitting there and waiting for me. Oh, the late nights, the stolen afternoons, the cliff hangers, and the painful task of growing up while saving the world.
I think I’m going to go and watch it all again. Give me some time. Send flowers. And yarn.
(And just so you know, I could yammer on and on, much, much more about Buffy, but I’m still working on NOT sounding like a freak who doesn’t have a life. It’s not going so well, and this isn’t helping.)