According to the tracking info (thanks Loopy Ewe, that’s super handy for obsessive types) the yarn I’m waiting for is currently in Los Angeles. I think this means that I can stop checking the mailbox every five minutes, and start being amazed that it’s made it this far, this fast. The blanket and I are eagerly awaiting it’s arrival.
There you have the thing, with all but one little bit of the border done.
(For those of you who are the type who want to know, it’s measuring about 120 cm across. That’s about 4 feet – so I have no idea where all this yarn is going. It’s really not a massive blanket. Ken was over looking at it the other night, and he posited that it’s all going to surface when I block it. Maybe – but I just think this pattern is more dense than the last few.)
Yesterday when I finished all the yarn I had, I took a deep breath, did my best to accept The Way Things Are, and folded it up, and put it on the table. Then I opened a knitting bag to find something else to work on until the new yarn arrives, and a miracle happened. Snuggled amongst the socks and such that got set aside when I took up with the blanket was one little half skein of this yarn. I just about cried from happiness. It wasn’t enough to finish, and I knew that when I saw it, but it was enough that I could pare down what’s left to do when the yarn arrives – make it so that there’s only a few hours of work when the yarn comes through the door, and that matters.
Robyn is close enough to the end that any minute now she’s going to start looking around for the reason for why she’s still pregnant, and dudes. I don’t want it to be me. I know it’s a little unreasonable to be thinking that an unfinished blanket could be what’s holding the whole thing up, but I remember being this pregnant, and it’s a pretty unreasonable state. I could say something to her like "babies come when they’re ready" but if there’s ever been a reason to punch someone in the kidney, that would be it. Hell hath no fury like a woman with an entire human being jammed between their lungs and bladder, and if there’s a way to send that rage in another direction, then I’m going to do it. (Hold on. I’m just going to check the mailbox again. Maybe the website is wrong.)
Once it arrives (and no, it wasn’t there, dammit) I have only about 3 hours of knitting to do. Then there’s a rather ridiculous blocking mission, for which Joe and I have to give up our bed, since it’s the only place big enough to do it. (I think that if it takes more than a day to dry, Joe won’t care if we have to camp in the living room. (If he’s smart – and he is, then he’s as afraid of Robyn as I am.)
Meanwhile, I’m knitting some handwarmers out of Sakura Cotton. The weather has just now started to change, and Sam’s complaining of cold hands.
Let’s hope that I don’t have time to finish them. I’m just going to go check the mailbox again.