Postcard from the chesterfield, where I’ve been spending an unreasonable amount of time, since it turned out that the infection I started out with was only pretending to respond to an antibiotic, and instead was planning a sneak attack on my kidneys. This was painfully clear to me on Monday (emphasis on the painfully part) and now I’ve got great big powerhouse antibiotics that seem to finally be winning the war. I’m recovering, and for the first day in six days I don’t feel like I got hit by a truck. Just maybe a Honda Civic. Here’s to tomorrow when I think that I can look forward to feeling like it was only a Smart Car or maybe (dare to dream) a scooter. In the meantime, I’ve been knitting. Knitting and knitting, and though I tried to work on a fancy something, it turns out that the combination of drugs and the overwhelming fatigue has robbed me of my ability to do anything other than garter stitch or great swathes of stockinette. (I’ve also shown a limited ability to count- but that’s normal.)
This sweater has been perfect. I snagged a copy of Louisa Harding’s book Cardigans a little while ago, and it’s the cover sweater "Willow" that did it. It just looks so cozy, so inviting, so go-anywhere, that I was enraptured instantly. The only reason it hasn’t been on the needles before was that really – well. It’s boring to knit. Really boring. Big sweater, lots of plain knitting – there’s a little shaping to keep you awake, but that’s about it, and usually I’d have to steel myself to get through it. Break it up with some lace or mittens or something that keeps me from slipping into a stockinette coma. Right now though, when my unfortunate human frailty keeps me half in a coma anyway – it’s hitting the spot – and the yarn’s comforting and cushy. LSS in Mossay, and I love this yarn. 50/50 merino and silk and I don’t think you could have anything softer running through your fingers. (I know. I say that about a lot of yarns.) This combo- the plain knitting and the soft yarn feels right now like the knitters version of a warm bath with a cup of tea.
I can’t believe I’m going to have a case of pyelonephritis to thank for a neat new sweater. If I felt better, I’d write something about silver linings. Maybe tomorrow.