One tired mutha
Are the holidays over yet? Please?
Actually, they were wonderful. We stayed put, because we do not currently have a vehicle that will fit all six of us (not to mention the canines). But there was just too much going on -- dense traffic of beloved in-laws and sister and more in-laws and work and, you know, an article due. A big one. I got it done, but I hate that, I hate the pressure of having bitten off more than I can chew and knowing that I'm not giving my best.
Speaking of which. There has been knitting. My sister's birthday was on December 5. She lives in southeastern PA and has a horse farm. One of my main mental pictures of her is in the barn before sunrise, pulling her mitten off and holding it in her teeth while she ties a knot or some damn farmer-type thing. I found the Broad Street mittens and thought they would be swell, so I got cracking over Thanksgiving, with some Trekking and some bamboo 2s. What a wonderful, huge learning curve--it's a fun knit.
But I very quickly realized I damn sure wasn't going to get them both done by 12/5. No worries! I would give her the first in time for her birthday and finish the second by Christmas. The pattern begins with the left hand, she's lefthanded, it was perfect.
There are 10-hundred ends to be woven in in eacy Broad Street mitt. I've got wicked second-mitt syndrome. I got the first one done in time to get it to her for Christmas, but barely. I even took it to work to tackle those ends as I could and work out those wonky holes that happen between fingers, finger and thumb, each of which means a couple more ends to weave in ... and I have trouble keeping track of my reading glasses. So the day I needed to mail it, I was cleaning up my desk preparing to leave the office, and I threw my lunch bag into the kitchen garbage--we can't throw food garbage into our desk cans, because the boss has a couple of inquisitive dogs--and my other bag with the finally completed mitten in it into my bag.
Yeah. There was Dumpster diving.
And that has been the extent of my knitting in the last month. The remainder of the Trekking and those wee, skinny needles sit on the shelf staring at me. I need to read more--I've stopped reading, except for work and bedtime. I need exercise. I ... I ... I ... need to give myself a break.
Happy new year. I know in my bones that I am well and truly blessed.
Actually, they were wonderful. We stayed put, because we do not currently have a vehicle that will fit all six of us (not to mention the canines). But there was just too much going on -- dense traffic of beloved in-laws and sister and more in-laws and work and, you know, an article due. A big one. I got it done, but I hate that, I hate the pressure of having bitten off more than I can chew and knowing that I'm not giving my best.
Speaking of which. There has been knitting. My sister's birthday was on December 5. She lives in southeastern PA and has a horse farm. One of my main mental pictures of her is in the barn before sunrise, pulling her mitten off and holding it in her teeth while she ties a knot or some damn farmer-type thing. I found the Broad Street mittens and thought they would be swell, so I got cracking over Thanksgiving, with some Trekking and some bamboo 2s. What a wonderful, huge learning curve--it's a fun knit.
But I very quickly realized I damn sure wasn't going to get them both done by 12/5. No worries! I would give her the first in time for her birthday and finish the second by Christmas. The pattern begins with the left hand, she's lefthanded, it was perfect.
There are 10-hundred ends to be woven in in eacy Broad Street mitt. I've got wicked second-mitt syndrome. I got the first one done in time to get it to her for Christmas, but barely. I even took it to work to tackle those ends as I could and work out those wonky holes that happen between fingers, finger and thumb, each of which means a couple more ends to weave in ... and I have trouble keeping track of my reading glasses. So the day I needed to mail it, I was cleaning up my desk preparing to leave the office, and I threw my lunch bag into the kitchen garbage--we can't throw food garbage into our desk cans, because the boss has a couple of inquisitive dogs--and my other bag with the finally completed mitten in it into my bag.
Yeah. There was Dumpster diving.
And that has been the extent of my knitting in the last month. The remainder of the Trekking and those wee, skinny needles sit on the shelf staring at me. I need to read more--I've stopped reading, except for work and bedtime. I need exercise. I ... I ... I ... need to give myself a break.
Happy new year. I know in my bones that I am well and truly blessed.
posted by Tina at 5:26 PM
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