In the grand spirit of "it ain't over 'til it's over"....I came as close to not making it as is truly possible. (This will be a short post, since I feel like those speed skaters who collapse on the ice right after the skate. I'm spending today doing the knitters version of lying on the ice sucking air. Admittedly, this looks more like drinking coffee and slowly knitting a sock, but you know what I mean.)
I stayed up knitting until 4am Saturday, sewing steeks in the dead of night hopped up on so much coffee that I could hear dust falling. I made an executive decision that nobody is qualified to hack up a Norwegian sweater in the dead of night and went to bed for a bit. (I iced my left hand first.)
I got up at 8am Sunday and knit the plackets while I drank my coffee. (I was badly hampered by my hand at this point. It's not a repetitive strain injury or a return of the claw that I suffered from 2 years ago, just the burn of serious overuse...like feeling sore the day after the gym. I deliberately slowed down to avoid injuring it.)
Fortified by placket success (there's two words you don't think you'll write together) I took the scissors to the steeks.
(Approximate time 10:45am. Very little time left. Still...never rush a steek.)
I had a little lie down (just 4 or 5 minutes face down on the hardwood floor) because seeing a cut up sweater always makes the blood rush out of my head...
From there it was a driving sprint....I put in the sleeves (11:30) and began weaving in the ends, sewing down the facings, steam blocking the joins, and was sewing up the hems of the sweater in a cab on the way to the closing ceremonies.
I was still sewing and weaving in ends when I got to the bar... and even I didn't know if I was getting it done before the torch was going to go out. (I really wish they would publish the exact time that thing is going to be extinguished instead of just the time the closing ceremonies start. There's a huge window of aching uncertainty in there.) In the end, at the last possible moment, as my left hand began to seize into a knitterly deathgrip...
This picture taken as I triumphantly leapt to my feet at the Team Canada celebrations and rammed the sweater on. (Ignore the beer. It was a difficult few days.) It's really hard to take a picture of yourself.
I can't hardly believe it. I feel really, really good.
Tune in tomorrow, when we will have the medal ceremonies, tell your stories of defeat and glory and learn what to do to qualify for the draw for prizes. (The prizes are really, really good.)
Congratulations to everyone who finished, everyone who tried, and thanks to the fans who cheered us on. I'm so proud of everyone who dared to be a better knitter. Cheers!