Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your knitting go?
Crappy. That's how it goes. Did I lose my knitting mojo or is my life just getting in the way of my knitting? Holy Cow! this was a bad weekend for knitting!
I finished the body of the no name sweater on Wednesday or Thursday last week. So I was going to whip up some sleeves over the weekend and be done except for the ever-elusive buttons. Well, best laid plans and all because after ripping out the first sleeve four times with expletives, I finally knit one sleeve to completion, ONLY TO DISCOVER that on that last rip out session, I had neglected to rip down far enough, and there is one frickin' row that knits in the opposite direction as the rest of the sleeve, and now I have to tear out the entire sleeve and start over. Expletive, expletive.
Okay, so then I had it in my head that it's time to get some socks back on the needles and wouldn't it be swell to learn how to do it two-at-a-time, toe-up? Swell. THAT is like knitting backward and upside down at the same time. Why do people think that knitting this way is fun? HOW can people think that knitting this way is fun? Just making sense of the CO for two-at-a-time is like mastering calculus. Top down is so much easier, I think. But, I think I have it now, with three hours of time invested into these pitiful little toe tips, which appear to fit Rocket's little feet much, much better than they are going to fit my big feet--and THAT was not the plan at all! The only saving grace is that I decided to use the el-cheapo yarn to learn how to do this instead of my new Have You Any Wool (click on the Yarn Marathon button 'cause my computer won't cooperate with a link this morning) gorgeous sock yarn.
And the gods are out to get me because someone's dog has strayed into my yard (Saturday) and someone hasn't come to collect her and now (Monday) I have to take her to the pound because we can't keep her and the kiddos are going to be all sad and pitiful today. She's such a sweet girl--obviously someone's dog because she has a very expensive collar and smelled--before she started sleeping under the workshop--like she had just escaped from the groomer. Oh well. Onward we must go!