Last night I went out to the Textile Museum for the launch of my buddy Fiona’s new book, and after her clever talk I went up to her to get her to hold the sock (because, you know…that’s what I do) and discovered that clearly my life has come right off the rails because I had forgotten to bring the travelling sock. This is rather stunning, since that poor pair of green socks has accompanied me everywhere that I go for the last 7 months, and all I can imagine is that my failure to bring it with me was some sort of subconscious expression of my desire to not travel for a while. Perhaps a conditioned response or something…like, maybe I’ve become Pavlov’s knitter and I figure that if I don’t have the travelling socks I won’t have to travel. (I am a little simple at times.) In any case, I was forced to hand her some other knitting, and that’s a very good thing, since she knit a little on it, which is more than what I have done.
The knitting in question is the Sunrise Circle Jacket, and while it was whipping along for a while there, it came off the rails where I had to follow line by line instructions and do that trickiest of things….Count.
It’s not that I can’t count (occasional evidence to the contrary) nor that I avoid counting (again, evidence notwithstanding) it’s simply that I knit largely while I do other things, and when I am counting, I can’t do other things. Now that I’m feeling better and I’m not just busy sniffing on a couch, the jacket hasn’t made for the best company.
Therefore a new sock sprang into being, something that I could motor along on when it was too busy or dark to count.
(STR “Downpour” Rotating Rib pattern of my own reckoning.) Sadly, this sock is not long for this earth, as I have arsed up the heel rather spectacularly, made the leg too short, failed to rotate the rotating rib, and as it’s circumference would suit a rather gouty elephant, it is clear now that the whole thing is worked on too many stitches. (I know it looks fine. That’s the ribbing lying to you.) I have known this for some time, but a knitter has needs, and I needed something to knit, and even though I knew this sock was an abysmal example of the art, I just kept knitting. I’ve known it needed ripping with every stitch I’ve put on it, but I can’t cast on in the dark or in fine company, and since that’s where I was…
I just kept knitting. (Don’t look at me like that. I can’t be the only one.) Now it’s hour of reckoning is here and there’s nothing stopping me from ripping it back with all the wild abandon that the piece of knitting junk deserves. Rip-o-rama.
Kiss it goodbye. Adios amigo. Hasta la vista, baby, and don’t let the door hit your arse on the way out.
PS. As a public service announcement for the knitters of Ontario, I feel compelled to tell you that Susanna Hansson is coming to the Kitchener Waterloo Knitters Guild to do some workshops on Feb 2nd and 3rd. The Saturday is the Bohus workshop (youknowyouwanna) and Sunday is her two beaded classes (the knitting is beaded, not the classes) Susanna lives on the west Coast, so this is a rare and wondrous opportunity. (Plus she’s my friend and very clever.) To get in on it contact the Guild.