Seen from a trotting horse

LA LA LA I am taking a little break from thinking about the wider world. Shall we talk about knitting, just for a few minutes?

Today I finished two lingering projects, a shawl and a pair of fingerless mitts, while reading to Stella. I thought it would take me a zillion years to weave in the ends on my robot insect shawl, but it did not. Look:

It is enormous. Huge. Vast. I was blocking it on my bed (it is slightly too long to fit diagonally across a king-sized bed) and Stella said, "It's like a country. Like our country. No, bigger. It's like Africa." Indeed.

I am packing it up and sending it off to Lilian, who admired it when I was musing about what I might do with a fun-to-knit-but-too-weird-for-me continent-sized wrap. I was going to do one more thing before I sent if off, though.

That block at left is an example of two-color brioche stitch. It's fun and pretty but also a little tricksy, and I made one of my increases in the wrong direction while I was knitting that section. I was going to fix it with duplicate stitch before I popped it in the mail. Unfortunately, the last few yards of apple green yarn have gone walkabout -- wayward yarn has been a recurring exasperation with this particular project. (That's kind of weird. I don't lose yarn, but I kept losing this particular yarn.)

I think instead of waiting for our ductwork bunyip to barf it back up, I'm going to pop it in the mail with its mistake unrepaired. Some knitters dismiss mistakes by saying, "It'll never been seen from a trotting horse." I myself tend to let my perfectionist flag fly when it comes to knitting mistakes, but not this particular mistake. It can say "Look, I was learning something fun and new" and "The architecture of brioche stitch is confusing" and also "Hey, on a day when the country was convulsing over an unjust and horrifying situation, I finished something pretty. Also odd, but let's focus on the pretty."