Before we get on with any knitting business I have a little message. If you live here with me, in this house, could you please put your dishes IN the dishwasher instead of ON the dishwasher? You know how you all do that? Putting the dirty dishes on the counter directly above the dishwasher so that even though everyone took the dishes from the table there is still a little job for Mummy? I realize that if you all put your dishes IN instead of ON said dishwasher, I will be left out of the process of getting dishes into the dishwasher. I am ok with that. It is the same distance from the table to IN the dishwasher as it is from the table to ON the dishwasher. No reasonable person would do this (never mind a whole family) without some sort of plan. This tells me that you don’t want to hurt my feelings or damage family unity by taking me completely out of dirty dish management. I thank you all deeply for your concern for my happiness and sense of belonging, but I want you all to know that you can put your dishes in the stinking dishwasher without crushing my fragile spirit. Okey Dokey?
I finished the Estonian mittens
and thought to myself: Well there. Those are done. I should knit something else. I should break up the Estonian Mitten Monotony with something different. The people who read the blog will appreciate that. Shake things up a bit. So I put on my thinking cap, (well, metaphorically speaking. We’ve already discussed the appallingly phallic impression that my head gives when hats are placed on it. The thinking cap here is implied.) I dragged yarn out of the stash. I took out 20 books and a whack of leaflets and a whole bunch of graph paper and all sorts of knitterly junk. Then I spent a really long time making little swatches and stuff, and rushing about the house explaining things to the people that live here (they love this part. I can tell) saying things like “What do you think? See the double moss stich? How about the stitch definition. No, no, you’re right. Don’t even answer. The red was better. Just give me a minute.” While all of them looked at me like I was an annoyance, except I’m the annoyance paying the bills and buying them food so they can’t mouth off or maybe I won’t make dinner. (The burn here is that because I was so preoccupied with the yarn games I declared it “Find your own Food Friday” and didn’t cook anyway. Suckers.)
Then, when I had finally come to a conclusion, having trashed all wool containment zones, swatched some really lovely things, selected several excellent patterns, filled all tables and stayed up too late….
I cast on Latvian Mittens.
I’m so sorry. Do you all hate it when I get like this? I mean, mitten after mitten after mitten..obsessively turning out handwear like some sort of crisis is coming and all that will save our mortal souls will be the mittens that I have knit? Some sort of weird hand freezing disease that can only be helped by the immediate application of hand knit culturally expressive mittens. (Imagine that? “Doctor…she’s not going to make it, her hands are like ice and the Walmart mittens aren’t helping. It seems like the elastic thread and sparkles are making it worse… I think we need to get Latvian Mittens, or …at least something Baltic. Watch the acrylic content and hurry!”) I mean, I’ve knit the Latvian mittens, the Thrummed mittens, the Estonian mittens, the Fleece Artist Mittens…oh wait…then I really broke out of the box and started thinking about Spiderman mittens. (Check me. Living on the edge. Don’t mess with me. I know how to mix it up).
Don’t you ever click on the blog and look at all the mittens and wonder? Do you all meet up for coffee and have conversations about when I used to knit other things and how fun that was and perhaps discuss some kind of intervention to get hold of the whole Mitten Thing. Then everyone puts their coffee down and you all make a big plan. Rams and Laurie will wait for me when I’m coming out of the yarn shop. I’ll be happy and relaxed and easy to take down. Then Claudia and Silvia will take me to a small room with no DPNs in it and Bonne Marie will be there and she’ll have her patterns with her and she’ll talk to me for hours about fashion and trends and while stylish knitters weep quietly in the corner. Sandy will be there, frightened and desperately clutching her mittens while Ryan tries to get them away from her and Norma says “Look at Stephanie, look at her! Is that how you want to end up? Is it? The mittens aren’t worth it, PUT DOWN THE MITTENS.” After hours and hours I finally agree to forget about gussets and thumb closures and knit Rogue or Butterfly or something that everyone agrees is Ok and I limp off shaky and weak and….you can all imagine it so clearly. The whole plan is worked out and then somebody brings chocolate biscotti and you all decide to let it go for another day, since nobody really wants to go to Toronto this time of year anyhow. Do you all say to yourselves, “Well, it has to stop soon. I mean, how many mittens can she knit? Nobody can be that obsessive. I’m sure she’s almost done. ”
Doesn’t anyone ever feel like sending me an email that says something like “Dear Stephanie; For the love of God. KNIT A HAT. ”