This time I’ve done it. I was feeling pretty good about my progress. Pretty good indeed. I knit while I watched Canada win gold in Curling… (and yes. Canadian men embrace. You wanna make something of it?)
(I’m in love with Newfoundlander Brad Gushue, youngest man to skip a Canadian rink at the Olympics. I think that’s really normal.)
I knit while Joe drove me around on errands…
I knit while I waited in the bank…
I knit while I picked out a zipper for this beast…
I knit while I popped into the LCBO for reinforcements…
Then I got home and lay the new sleeve on top of the old sleeve so I could feel good about my progress and noticed that they looked sort of different. “That’s odd”, I thought, sort of innocently…and then it hit me.
I never changed needles after the sleeve cuff. I was supposed to go down from a 3.5mm to a 3mm. (Aw…CRAP.) “Hold up” I thought (see that? Not freaking out until there’s a reason to freak out? That’s a small measure of personal growth.) “Maybe they aren’t all that different. It’s only a half millimetre out on the needle size, maybe all this needle changing is just a Norwegian joke and it’s fine. Yeah…maybe it’s fine.”
Not fine. Say it with me…
Aw….CRAP. (Yes. That’s nail polish stuck to the coffee table. I’ll clean it up Monday.) This could be it. This could have been the mistake that finishes it all. CRAP.
To further add insult to injury, I had the following conversation in the bank today.
Me: (Waiting in line and knitting on the now piece of CRAP sleeve)
Teller: Hey! You’re knitting.
Me: Yup. (Note that I made absolutely no smart-assed remark about the obvious.)
Teller: You must be pretty obsessive about that eh?
Me: Yup. (Again..decent understatement of events.)
Teller: You know what? I saw this thing on the news about “The Knitting Olympics”
Me: (About to confess everything. Tell her that I’m in the Olympics, that I’m knitting my Olympic sweater right now. To puff out my chest and tell her that it was all my idea and isn’t it freakin’ cool?)
Teller: (Voice low and stunned) Isn’t that crazy? Aren’t those people nuts? Can you imagine?
Me: (Suddenly realizing that this isn’t the moment of glory recognizing my genius that I thought I was headed for)
“Oh….ummm…..Yeah. Crazy. Those knitters are whacked. I gotta go. ”
If anyone needs me I’ll be over there with the ripped up piece of CRAP sleeve, a mangled chart, half a bottle of cheap red wine and what’s left of my dignity. I’ll post tomorrow. I know the suspense is killing you. Hell…It’s killing me.