This blanket might be the death of me. Yesterday I was so full of hope, I even imagined (briefly) knitting other things. Maybe a sweater, finish some socks. I bought the latest knitting magazines and the world of possibility stretched before me. I might knit something red I thought. Or blue. Or Green - anything except for the eternal white that's stretched out for so long. I felt sure that it was all going to work out. I'd have enough yarn, I'd apply myself, maybe stay up all night and just get it done.
I'm not done. I knit the snot out of it and it's still not done, and I think I can say with confidence now that there's not going to be enough yarn. I weighed the ball and it was 19g. Then I worked one repeat, and weighed again. 16g - so that tells me that each repeat takes about 3 grams. Then I counted the repeats left - which was a rather heartbreaking 16. If each repeat takes three grams, then I need 48 grams, not 16 - and that means it's back to the store for me.
Just to be sure, I actually weighed my swatches, thinking maybe I could ravel them and get the extra yardage there. No dice.
Even if I use the swatches, I still need 19 grams, and as I realized I was going to be going to the store for so little, I was suddenly demoralized. I can't go to the store today because I have to drive aways, and while I'm driving I won't be knitting or yarn shopping, and so that means that even though tonight is prime knitting time and I could finish this bad boy? I won't be able to.
I was sitting here trying to fetch the yarn with the power of my mind when the phone rang. It was the lovely and charming Rachel H, on her way to the yarn shop close to her work, and she asked me if I wanted her to score a ball, and maybe drop it in my mailbox so it would be there when I got home?
I almost fell over. It was a miracle. It was actually like I was sitting there just wishing the yarn would appear today, and there's Rachel H solving the whole problem. I gratefully accepted, and made a mental note get her a little present, or kiss her full on the mouth or something. Relieved, I started packing up to leave, thinking about how happy I am, and about how great it is that that little problem evaporated totally, and about how tomorrow I'll knit something that isn't white while the blanket blocks. Rachel H is totally the kind of person who texts you pictures of yarn from the store, so a minute later when my phone went off, I expected a picture of the yarn and a very Rachel-esque text message like "VICTORY IS MINE" or "SHE SHOOTS, SHE SCORES!!" Instead?
"They don't have it."
This, clearly is a crushing defeat. That store was my whole backup plan. That's where I was going to go in the morning, and now they don't have it and I'm going to have to start calling around, and I'm absolutely sure I'll find some, for the love of wool, I'm sure one of you has 19 grams of it, but whatever I do now, it's going to take me a bit to get it, and that brings me to my next great idea.
We should be able to fax yarn. At least small quantities. No reason humanity can't work that out.
(PS. Because you're all going to ask now, the yarn is Lanett superwash baby yarn, in colour 1001, lot number 713636, although I don't think lot matters much. If you see a ball of it somewhere near Toronto, let me know. I'll go get it until we have the fax thing worked out.)