Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

I pretty much finished the sweater

assuming that by "finished" you understand that I mean there are no buttons and it will fit perfectly once I grow wings.  The arms are gigantic.  Huge.  Could easily disguise a superhero's flying appendages.  I know of no rational reason for this to happen.  Mom says something can be done with a sewing machine and scissors.  I vacillate between despair and indifference.  Indifference hurts less.

So I started socks.  I know how to make socks.  I have never once made socks that didn't fit.*

I bought Souvenir Yarn in colors that make me think of Mardi Gras while on our trip last year.  My friend bought me a pattern named French Quarter for my birthday, so I was all set for happy New Orleans socks.

The internal dialogue over the next two or three days went something like this:

Bloody hell, I've never used needles this small.  I knit socks all the time and have never used needles this small.

Huh.  This yarn is pretty splitty.  I didn't expect that. 

I can't seem to do this left-cross-beginning-with-a-purl thingie without losing stitches and cursing.  That's peculiar.  I'm sure it will get better once I do the cross another thousand or so times.

Hmmm, this yarn is really variegated.  I'm not sure it's showing the pattern well.

I'm being ridiculous.  New Orleans yarn in Mardi Gras colors knit in the French Quarter pattern!  It's a trifecta of perfections!

....I really can't see this pattern.  This is a lot of work to not see the pattern well.

I hate knitting.  I'm going to take up some other hobby, like maybe drinking.  I've never been drunk.  Perhaps I would like it.  The people on telly seem to.

Twenty seconds later, I was on Ravelry looking through thirty-two pages of projects made with this yarn.

I then ripped out the sock, wrote "kahlua" on the grocery list, and started another pattern.

*That's sort of a lie since I routinely make knee highs that don't stay up.  I choose to ignore this.  See "despair" and "indifference" above. 

Oh, and there was that Christmas stocking I tried to knit for Andrew that ended up over two feet tall due to a lack of understanding of gauge.  But really, it's pretty good as a wall hanging around the holidays. 


  1. Oh how frustrating! And familiar. It made me smile, but sympathetically.


  2. OMG--I got such good laughs from this post! I needed it, too! But sorry your sweater had its "issues"!