Okay, that might be an overstatement.
Especially if you count the five thousand toys and bits of shredded cardboard box (ahem Rocket Ship) Reed left strewn throughout the house before he went to bed.
But, I do feel a lot less frantic than when I wrote this post a couple weeks back.
I’ve gotten in some knitting time and found a good stride in my projects. I actually need to pause from knitting and catch up on some Computer Knitting (pattern writing), but I almost don’t want to. All I seek in the world is to keep on knitting.
I’ve taken pause to mindfully admire the season’s colors, to go hunting through the garden for the last of the tomatoes and other such bounty. I’ve hacked back the asparagus patch. Yanked out the zinnias. Harvested (nearly) two of the olive trees. Acquired pumpkins at fair market value. (Our own patch met a dismal end this summer…I don’t want to talk about it…) Split kindling to no end and hauled a Respectable Load of fire wood into the house.
I’ve released the hens to Free Range now that their only potential horticulture victims are the persimmon trees, which seem amply loaded and will surely provide enough for all, pestilent poultry included.
I am ready, World.
I am now on Version 4 of the baby hat…nearly finished as long as I don’t trip on the way to the kitchen (to dig into the chocolate pudding) and break a finger.
Turns out I was right when I wrote down the number of stitches I cast on for Version 2. You think this would have been obvious when I circled the number in orange ink with a little star next to the number.
Why don’t I ever believe myself?
It’s not like I was remembering a value from my head. I had actually written the darn thing down. Hello Frazzled Me.
Onward. Plus now I have an extra baby hat.
I am LOVING Andrea’s pattern. I don’t know if this poncho will fit in the end, but it’s been fun to knit up in Brooklyn Tweed’s Shelter. This yarn is Such a Trip. I haven’t knit in Brooklyn Tweed before and almost didn’t. This stuff ain’t cheap. When I was hemming and hawing over which yarn to choose, I happened to catch some pro-Shelter/Jared Flood articles in my Feed concurrent with my decision consternation and figured hey, it’s only money.
Shelter feels like a sponge was put through a pasta maker that spit out little square strands of wool sponge. It’s wild.
Knitting someone else’s pattern is much more fun than coming up with my own, I hate to admit. But it’s true. I feel like I am on a Knitting Vacation, and I have barely left the sofa.
Mistakes and all.