Skip to content

Awashed away

This morning, when I got up, it was too early.  I was tired and slept unevenly — not badly, some of it was quite nice, like waking up and hearing all the rain whooshing and frogs going beserk with glee.  And I spent some of it trying to invent a new word to adequately capture the sound a car makes as it accelerates off along a street covered in ten centimetres of water (swluische was the closest I got before I gave up).  I love the rain, and it shits me beyond belief when I hear people bitching about it.  I don’t mean to say I’ve never thought “damn, I was going to go for a walk, but now it’s raining” and I’ve had my share of picnics cancelled due to weather, but I don’t buy the whole sunlight=good, rain=bad dichotomy that the weather reporters on TV subscribe to.  I mean, honestly, people: we get an annual rainfall in this area of around zero-point-bugger-all, and so on the few days of the year the rain decides to grace us with its sprinkly presence, it takes preference over your kids’ footy games.  Anyway, got up. Early. Sat for a few moments in the dim living room, prior to doing a little Sunday yoga and tried to think calming, relaxed thoughts.  Something must’ve got dislodged in my brain overnight, though, because calm and relaxed wasn’t for me.  I felt kinda crummy.  All I could think was “I don’t want to do it today”, and I don’t even know what ‘it’ was in reference to.  Certainly not yoga: I’m completely stupidly in love with yoga, even when crankypants, so I charged ahead and did that.  I think ‘it’ just meant the day in general, although if you substitute that in, “I don’t want to do the day in general today”, the grammar gets a bit wobbly.

It’s been a brain-dead day.  I’m going to say it’s because it’s been so blissfully rainy: part of me is responding instinctively to the relaxing rain swooshing around.  Which is fine.  Except insofar as it relates to knitting.

So I cast on Intolerable Cruelty on Friday night.  Successfully completed the cast on, the nine rounds of st st, purled the turning round, then another couple of rounds of st st before I realised my gauge was off.  I cursed a little, but since I hadn’t taken the time to do a gauge swatch anyhow, I knew I only had myself to blame, so rallied, unraveled, re-cast on. I got gauge with the second needle, spot on.  Proceeded merrily along, congratulating myself on my maturity at identifying and correcting the problem so early on, and then wondered why I kept getting the yarn tangled around the needle.  I was about halfway through the morning, just past that purled turning round, when I realised it was because…I’m embarrassed to even type this…I twisted the cast-on.  Oy, rank beginner mistake: you have reminded me that none may escape Knitter’s Hubris. Unraveled Part 2.  Then I cast on again (third time, but who’s counting?) and counted the stitches.  I had too many stitches, so I slid the extras off the tip of the needle…but from the wrong end. I slid off the starting slipknot and the first dozen stitches or so.  Without the slipknot, the rest of the cast on is pretty compromised, so…yeah. Unraveled Part 3.  Then I decided to take a little break, have some lunch, listen to the rain some more…cast on again.  Fourth cast on.  So far, so good, but it does mean I’ve been knitting on this skirt all weekend and have very little to show for it.

Mind you, this skirt is mostly stockinette.  I’m not so skilled a photographer that I know how to make this interesting. Imagine a circular needle, with maybe eight rounds of stockinette on it.  Yup, that’s it. That’s my knitting progress for this rainy weekend. (Try and make it exciting, too, while you’re imagining it.  I’d appreciate it.)

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *