Okay, so. I spent my day being as productive as I could, I managed to get a LOT of things done, and off my to-do list. Phenomenal. However, in the back of my mind, I had this itch, this urge, to get back home to get those needles in my hands. Sad. I’ve become a fifty year old woman over night and what’s worse is, I consciously know I should be ashamed, but my insides are screaming for satisfaction of practicing my new found skill. Oh, god. If only the ladies could see me now. That’s okay, I’ll make them a doily or a blanket or something.
The upside is that once I got the tools in my hands I was able to demonstrate to myself my ability to quickly execute a Cast-on (slow version AND english method). Remember, when you were a kid and played with string on your fingers? Cat’s Cradle, and all that nonsense? It’s kind of like that, except with big wooden needles, that I still imagine throwing and impaling someone in the eye or shoulder. Once I graduate to metal needles, I’m gunning for a manly blue or perhaps gun metal. They have gun metal right?
Tonight’s mission … learn the knit-stitch and start going beyond one row casting on one needle. What kind of knitter am I if I’m stuck using only one needle. I’d be an even bigger loser.
I should be sleeping … okay, maybe one episode of Supernatural. I’m on Season 7 episode 4. I dunno, not feeling this season so much, Sam is such a pussy, and Dean, his schtick is getting old.