Monday, August 6, 2007

Uncle

It's official. Mystery Stole 3 has finally and irrevocably kicked my butt. It took me weeks to get to row 80 -- and to realize that I'm really not enjoying the process of knitting it. It's beyond me how anything that looks so straightforward -- after all, it's just knit, purl, yarn overs, and decreases -- can be so frustrating. To me. Methinks the major problem is that I truly have the attention span of a gnat: I have a hard time following a whole, long row of knits...purls...yarn overs...and decreases. Godspeed to those of you who have the gumption and focus to see it through.

As for me... UNCLE!

I'm back to working on the plethora of KIPs I have going -- and those I have started since MS3. I'm working on a series of dishcloths for my father-in-law, who assures me that he'll actually use them if I'll make them. I pulled out my Mason-Dixon log cabin blanket in progress on Friday, its simple garter stitch ad nauseum meant to reinstill confidence that I actually CAN knit something (even if it's not a gorgeous MS3 stole!). The log cabin is in shades of brown, lilac, and leaf green Patons Decor.

And, of course, I continue to work on actually completing the socks I have in progress before casting on for new ones. After a day of knitting at the Blue Jays game yesterday, I'm well into the leg of the second of my Plain Jane socks in Regia. And I expect to be almost done with the first Embossed Diamonds sock -- my commuter knitting -- by the end of this week. (Not bad progress, considering it's 80 stitches per round on 2.0 mm needles in a pattern I actually have to pay attention to.)

In unrelated news: if anyone out there would care to share their experiences teaching elementary school, please leave me a comment. I'm contemplating a radical career change and am seriously considering becoming an elementary school teacher. Thanks!

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

First Post

It all has to begin somewhere, and this is it. I hope to use this blog to record my challenges and resolutions, my amusements and random thoughts. I plan to record my knitting projects and progress here. In fact, that's what this may ultimately be all about: knitting. Who knows? I certainly don't.



Random Thought

On the bus to work yesterday, a woman was reading the latest Harry Potter and I almost blurted out to her: "Have you gotten to the part where [insert name of favorite doomed character] died?" Thankfully, I didn't risk ruining her good reading time, having learned long ago that such an innocent question can have disastrous results.



When I was a young teenager I fell in love with the book The Thorn Birds, by Colleen McCullough. I read that thing over and over. And when my friend, Becky, started reading it, I couldn't wait to start discussing it with her.



"Did you get to the part where Dane died?" I asked eagerly.



Apparently she hadn't.



That question became a private joke between us from then on, and thinking it to myself has kept me from destroying many a plot line for those around me.



Knitting Projects

As I become more sophisticated, I may include photos of things I'm working on. But I'm not there yet.



I've got more pairs of socks on the go than you can shake a stick at. Plain Jane socks out of Regia, "Embossed Diamond" socks in purple Wildfoote from More Sensational Knitted Socks, "Oak Rib" socks from Nancy Bush's Knitting Vintage Socks in Chelsea Tweed Kroy, and perhaps others that I'm conveniently forgetting about at present. I'm taking a page out of Wendy's book (or a byte from her blog, to be more precise) and trying to use my daily commute as sock knitting time. Mind you, it takes me the same time to complete one pair of socks that it takes her to finish -- oh, I don't know -- five.



Still, I'm getting a lot of satisfaction from using my bus time productively. I'm finding that I prefer plain stockinette socks for trip knitting; I'm currently modifying the Yarn Harlot's basic pattern from Knitting Rules to be my stock -- read "generic," not "soup" -- recipe.



That's enough blather for now.



Beth