Moment of Zen

My job at the yarn store is a dream job. During the lunch hour, when people come in to knit and chat, and between helping other customers, we get to knit along with the lunch group. I usually have a pair of socks on the needles, and little by little, the socks magically get finished. Both socks, as opposed to my usual one-sock-wonders that end up as part of a zany mismatched pair.

(The definition of a one-sock-wonder is: One wonders where the other sock went). Dryers can create one-sock-wonders too, as we all know. And who hasn't had that experience where you wonder what that lump under the bedsheet is?

I digress
Yesterday, having changed knitting bags, I went off to work. It was a gorgeous early fall day, and I had an idiotic smile on my face.

I got to work and pulled out my things. I had several things in my backpack. My lunch. My wallet. My phone. My keys. No knitting.

Now, knitting is my panacea. It keeps my little hands busy so I don't overeat, don't smoke, don't pick at things, don't, as the t-shirt says, kill people. And though there was plenty of work to be done helping customers, stocking shelves, and the like, the noon group kept asking me why I wasn't knitting.

"I'm having a moment of Zen" I said. They didn't buy it. I had to fess up.

When I got home, the first thing I did was to find my knitting in my other bag, and put it in my backpack. I slept well last night.

F-ing Os

I’m thinking hard about F-ing some Os. No, that’s not code for naughty-speak.

If you’re a knitter, you probably know about UFOs (Un-Finished Objects). And if you’re me, you have several -- well, several dozen ... ish -- UFOs lurking in Rubbermaid bins and boxes and project bags and baskets and in any other sort of container large enough to hold projects-in-progress.

So, I’m thinking of F-ing some of those Os.

I’m dangerously close to finishing my current project, the Maude Vest from the Simply Shetland 2 book. I have an inch or so left to knit, then I may finish the armholes with crochet or I-cord edging, and then I need to block it. 

Usually when I reach this stage in a project, it feels done to me, and I can’t help casting on for something new and exciting. I’m sort of like Donald Trump in this way, only I go after newer, fresher projects instead of newer, younger wives.

And I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions, so I don’t ever resolve to F more Os for that reason. And I don’t believe in either Hell or the Knitting Police, so I can’t be guilted into finishing anything I don’t F-ing want to. (OK, that WAS naughty-speak).

So why this sudden burst of potential industriousness?

For one thing, I think my coworker E. is a bad (good?) influence on me. She is one of those dismaying people who casts on a project on Tuesday night -- at work, I might add -- and by Friday morning she comes in with a completed acre of fully blocked Orenburg Lace or a Dubbelmossa Fair Isle hat or some such thing. And not only that, she keeps up with her blog and puts plenty of photos on it as well. I admit to feeling a little competitive.

For another, I’ve had occasion to go into my stash recently and in the process I unearthed a few things that would take about 1 hour each to complete. For example, the Sonoma Wrap from Simply Shetland 2, which involved 72 inches of various lovely stripes in Woven Stitch. I completed the knitting in record time, but so far the edging has taken me about three years. Well, applied I-cord can’t be rushed.

And then there are the socks I promised a friend several years ago. All I have left is the foot of the second sock. Two evenings of work, max, and I could get that sock monkey off my back.

And ... and ...

But maybe I could just look at that beautiful new silk and wool handpainted yarn I bought on Saturday? You won’t tell, right? I swear I won’t cast on ...