This morning I got up, got out of bed, made coffee, and sat down with a book and read a little bit while I woke up, as I usually do in the mornings. (I’m pretty much incapable of dealing with the world first thing in the morning, I don’t feel the slightest bit bad about that.) Then I got up, put some clothes on and thought that dreadful thought, “What the hell am I going to blog about today.”
I try, and often fail, to blog about every other day. I think it’s a good ratio, and to be perfectly honest I don’t knit enough to write here every day. (I often don’t knit enough to do it every other day, but that is a separate argument. Well, good thing I hunkered down last night and was seized by a fever to knit the last of the Christmas presents. (You read that right. It’s not a person I see every day, okay, it’s not that bad. I wouldn’t be able to give them to the recipient for a while, so there. It’s not that bad. The three sweaters that just “fell” off the needles while these languished were just amusements.
I started these way back in December, when I was still excited to be entering the exciting world of Tax Preparation. Like the New Job glow, the appeal of these soon drifted from sight. (Why are there so many republicans in the Tax world? I’ve swapped notes with other Tax people who’ve been doing this a lot longer than me, and we agree — there is a good chance that your taxes are being done by someone who voted for Bush — TWICE!)
They are mitts, they are lacey, and they are cashmere. When I first started knitting these, I was attempting to follow a pattern, but I grew to be so pissed off by its less than stellar directions, that I threw it aside and came up with something myself. I have issues doing what others tell me. My knitting, I’m the boss, so fuck you, you insipid designer. (Not naming names so as not to trash the designer, who I’m sure doesn’t read this, and who probably thought that they were just a wonderful pattern. Sure.)
The Cashmere was reclaimed, and it was such a thin yarn that I had to hold four strands of it to get a worsted. Ouch. However, there is still tons of this lace weight left. Shawl anybody?
I can only model one at a time because, well, I have to take the picture. This whole home alone all day thing is nice, but it’s hard to find a good hand model. (I don’t think the cat would work . . . no, it wouldn’t.)
I should totally find work as an arm model.
I’m done with Christmas, just in time to start for next year I guess. Next you all are getting books.