There’s this particular evening in my memory… I’m sitting quietly in the corner of the shop. All the lights are off and it’s quite dark. The store is closed after a long day. Jim arrives to pick me up. I hear the key in the front door. He steps in to complete darkness. Caroline? Caroline?
I’m over here.
What’s going on?
I’m not allowed to touch anything.
Everything I touch, I ruin.
… and so it is again.
It’s coming out. Excuse me. THEY are coming out.
It’s not that I’m unhappy with the work, it’s actually quite beautiful. Just look at this motif!
The problem is once again in the fit. It fits, but it just sits on my leg. When I walk around in it, it starts to slide down my leg. That’s quite a picture you know… me holding a ball of yarn, my pajama leg pulled up, one red sock that reaches my knee, but not all the way down my leg, walking back and forth from the bedroom to look in the mirror and back into the living room to complain about how it’s sliding already.
So today, I’ll rip it out. Again.
Remember my Sunday detour? The blanket for Triston? I didn’t really want to weave last night. Imagine! I did anyway. I told myself that if I would just work through one repeat I’d feel better about making my self imposed deadline. Well. That didn’t go well either. I was stressed. I wove what should have been 2 1/2 inches of fabric into just over 1 1/4 inches. …and so this morning, it was coming out as Jim showered.
Don’t touch anything else for goodness sake. You’ll wreck it too.
This can start to get degrading. I do make things that fit. Beautifully too.
Remember the gansey? I don’t think I ever shared the finished masterpiece with you.
…and so I’ll take out the weaving. I’ll take out the German Stocking. I’ll make them right. But there may be some whining involved.Tags: Cookie A German Stockings, gansey, Knitting, Tampa, Weaving