Prime knitting time is in the evenings and last night was more tinking than knitting going on, and a lot of cursing as well. How can two shawls be so very different to knit? I'm quite sure this one's an easy one too, but for some reason, I really don't know, it is giving me a hard time. I know the yarn overs are out to get me (and have for some time now), but still, I'm on to them and on guard here! If there's one stitch to many, no problem, knit it together. If I'm one stitch short, no problem, make one! Next row - nothing's where's supposed to be and suddenly everything looks the same! So, I declare defeat and tink back. In the back of my mind there's a word floating around, no not that one, it's "life line"! I've heard of it, seen it, but never used it or even know how to do it, but somehow I think I should make myself familiar with it.
How can I knit 12 repeats of this chart and everything falls into place and it's smooth knitting, but by the 13th (Aha!) repeat I'm like a person with sausages for fingers and no thumbs? AND I'M NOT EVEN AT THE HARD PART YET! Still four more rows to go before I can start with the Lily of the Valley chart one.
I'm sure it's not me, it's the distractions around me. It's Sam and Biko, it's Hannah and David, and the sun and the moon ...... but not me!
So far, not much pleasure in knitting this one, but once again, I'm like a dog with a bone, just can't give it up! I'll keep you posted.
My mom's a nice person. She likes to shop and she loves to rummage through hobby & crafts markets and flea market as well. She bought and sent me this pair of socks. They are hand knit of course. Maybe a year ago, she would not even have looked twice at hand knit items, she's all about cross stitched table cloths and so on, but since I've started knitting (again), and she gets to see some pictures of it here on the blog or, gets actually to feel some socks on her feet (which I made), since all this happened, she looks at hand knits differently. She also buys me lots of yarn, special deals of course, because she's an expert shopper. And I am not one to say NO to a pair of hand knit socks, never! You just can't have enough of them, and don't they fit my feet nicely??? - and yes, this is my very photogenic pumpkin in the background. It's still with us. My kids tell me everyday, that one day soon there will be a "poof" and all the moldy innards of this pumpkin will explode into my living room. I say not, it will dry out and sit there forever! (by the way, this is not a cup of coffee! I'm a tea totaller(?) !)
And of course there is something to learn about my dogs:
Biko smart, Sam dumb?
That's how Biko uses a pillow to sleep on the couch. Smart!
This is how Sam uses a box of wool as a pillow, to sleep on the couch, ahem ..... or he's just very comfortable about all the knitting going on in this house!
Besides, we both got a scare last night, or maybe it was just I that got scared, he didn't know what the hell was going on, with me running home after our last short walk, yelling like a banshee for my son. This is what happened:
Sam's finally allowed to go for walks. We do short walks, rather than long walks, but several. I monitor him, to see how he's doing on these walks, so I can judge how far we go. He's still limping, but it gets better every day. Anyway, it was almost dark and we were walking along the neighborhood sidewalk, thinking happy thoughts, him and me; it's stop and go, there's a lot to sniff at (many dogs here), there's pee, stop and go, you get it. At one of these stop's at first I'm off thinking said happy thoughts, mostly about knitting (nay), when I noticed that Sam's not sniffing nor peeing, but chewing and swallowing. Alarm bells ringing! I jank him away, see a heap of a white powder like substance and some clumps of that stuff all over the sidewalk. I grab what I can with my gloved hand, jank (sorry Sam) Sam around and hot foot it home as fast as we both could. Doors fly open, I yell for David, to come and see, I just couldn't bring myself to have a closer look, Sam's panting beside me. I stick the stuff under David's nose, he says, huh? I say, smell it, what is it? (O.K. I yelled it, total panic). David sticks his nose to the stuff and looks at me, wondering if I've gone totally mad now. Tell me what it is, I said.
Why - it's feta cheese, of course! Huh?
What the hell is feta cheese doing on my side walk??? - And Sam's panting, came from the running, I guess. Poor guy.
All's well. ;o)