I haven't wanted to knit since the election. Isn't that weird? A year ago I was afraid that Donald Trump was going to steal a lot of things* from the people of this country, but I didn't expect my knitting mojo to be among them. It's been weird: I don't want to knit, don't want to run. What's that depression screener question about loss of pleasure in things you used to enjoy?
*Can you even believe this tax bill? Also, did all of us just sort of throw up our hands about the Emoluments Clause?
Last month I decided I'd make a baby sweater for a colleague expecting her first. It's that same raglan pattern I've made a zillion times before, in cozy red superwash yarn. This is the smallest size, and I can tell you from experience that it's entirely possible to crank one out in a weekend. Instead I did a little bit here and a little bit there and whoops! -- my colleague went and had her baby while I was nibbling away at her gift. It's almost done. It needs its ends woven in and its underarm gaps closed up. I think I probably have buttons that will work for it, but I might also need to make a fabric store run. I'm taking them dinner a week from Monday. Even a slow and limping knitter can do that amount of finishing in ten days.
I am also knitting a gift for a person who occasionally reads this blog. It's one of my favorite patterns. I like my knitting to be a mix of complicated and brainless, and that pattern fits the bill perfectly. It's snappy twisted rib in which yarnovers and decreases create an unexpectedly cool effect. (I also love the pattern page, which reminds me of the years in which I waited eagerly for the new Knitty to come out and read through every single page of each issue. I'm still not sure what that disembodied leg is doing at the beach or why Cookie is wearing a wedding-ish dress, but I'm a fan regardless.) I cast on 84 stitches, and only realized after eleven rounds of the leg that I should have done six repeats of fourteen stitches each, rather than seven repeats of twelve. I'm trying to decide how crazy it would be to rip those eleven rounds. Pretty crazy, I'm thinking at this point.
My brain is doing that November thing where it says "And! We could knit a ____ for ____ in time for Christmas! S/he would like a _____! And there's plenty of time left!" I have a difficult extended family member who has made some pointed comments about my knitting in the past. As in "Oh, that's...different" about a lovely stripey cowl and "I don't understand why he never wears your gift" in a situation where I would not have known that was the case (and would have been happier not knowing). Today I caught the Delusional Knitter part of my brain making a case for knitting this person a gift. Mittens with a cool construction! Made of bulky yarn leftovers! You never know what to give this person!
Probably not, Delusional Knitter brain. Probably not.
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