Yee haw. I’m still in editing hades over here. (Now I’m onto the first edit of the calendar, so it’s way less stressful than the last edit on the book. ) I’m perfectly happy though. Perfectly. My hair could be on fire and I would be happy. Why?
All the leaves, all of them, even the one that needed to be inlaid into the toe of the second Vintage sock is done.
Done, and done without incident. Nothing unravelled. Nothing mis-knit, no great honking errors, no wrong counting or gauge mistake, just 34 tiny little leaves for socks. All blocked. All just grand.
Towards the end it was even sort of zen. It was only the leaves. Me and the leaves. Leaves and me. Finish one, cast on the next. As you can imagine, I had the pattern memorized by then so it was a seamless flow of one leaf to the next. I somehow got into a headspace where I didn’t even want to knit anything else. It was as though the leaves and I were one endless being. Leaves. Leaves. Leaves. It was so mind-bendingly surreal that the only reason I stopped was because I happened to mention to one of the kids (the answer to “So, Mum? How many leaves are you knitting?”) that I only had to make 34 (“only”….see how it gets to you?) and they counted and I was done. If they hadn’t have broken the spell I would likely still be knitting. Leaves.
I’ve decided to leave them like that for a while. Just so I can look at them. My leaves. Yee haw.
(First person to mention how many ends there are to weave in gets their smart-ass self banned from the blog. I’m ignoring that, and I don’t want my bubble burst. )