I don’t want to startle any knitters, but there’s something strange going on over here and who knows where it will end. I’ve been churning along on a summer sweater – Donner, to be precise, and I’m using Louet Euroflax Linen. Nice stuff – and I was sad that it was discontinued but it turns out that it’s been bought by Lofty Fiber, which is great news.

So I decide to knit this sweater, and I had this bonkers idea that I would knit it sort of quickly – which is just to say that I thought that I might give a completely radical idea a go – I’d knit a summer sweater in time to wear it this summer. I knew it was going to take a little longer than my knitter’s heart thought it should because the style of the thing is oversized, with great gobs of positive ease, and that always means a little extra time, but I saw that coming and I was emotionally prepared. I sat down and started in on it and right from the get go I noticed that it was slow. This seemed reasonable, it’s the yarn’s fault. I always find plant fibres to be slower on the needles than wool – they’re not stretchy, they’re a little stiffer, the whole thing is just… slower and I’m down with that. The transformation that occurs when you wash a linen garment is worth it. So I’m plodding along and that doesn’t seem too bad, totally to be expected for a linen thing this size. Then. something strange happened, which is that I stopped making any progress at all.

It seemed to me that I was knitting and knitting and nothing was happening. The sweater wasn’t getting any longer, none of the yarn seemed to be disappearing and it was starting to bug me. I looked within myself and wondered if (upon honest reflection) I wasn’t working on it as much as I thought? We’ve been very busy with a little project for the back garden (it’s not little, the roof of the shed caved in) and a chunk of my time goes to knitting, filming and editing for the Patreon, I’ve quietly been training for the Bike Rally (more on Team Knit later – but here’s links to our pages – me, Cam, Ken and Pato) and still haven’t made any progress on riding and knitting at the same time. (I’m starting to think it’s not going to work out) and Elliot is… well, I can’t really blame him since he’s only here a few days a week, and we’re working on his tolerance for my time spent knitting rather than playing board games or reading books. Even when I was honest about my time spent knitting, it still seemed like I should be farther along. *

Then a few days ago I decided to really start making some progress. Crack the whip of self discipline and get it done. Go, go, go. I knit in the park.

I knit in another park.

I knit while Ken read Ellie stories (That book is called The Little Wooden Robot and The Log Princess and it’s terrific.)

Another park…

I knit in the car,

While Elliot played lego…

I knit the heck out of that sweater. I knit on it so much that I started to think there must be progress. A shocking amount of progress. The ball of yarn got a bit smaller (though not much, this might be weird yarn) and after a while of trucking this thing around everywhere I went and cashing in on the stupendous magic of a round here and a round there – I have made no progress. Sure, a few centimetres, maybe eight – but eight centimetres is nothing like what I deserve.

Tonight, I’m going to politely announce to my knitting that it is time to move along. That whatever time dilation it has itself stuck in it needs to make a commitment to growth. I am going to tell it the truth, that am not even a little bit of a monogamous knitter, and that it is lucky that I have stood by it this long. I’m going to tell it about how I have been feeling about a certain other knitted top that I saw the other day, and I may even get the yarn for that out of the cupboard so that it may see its competition and know fear. Hell, I may even put it on the counter while I make dinner and put “Jolene” on the stereo. Then I’m going to try again, and if this sweater knows what’s good for it – we’ll be talking about ribbing and some sleeves tomorrow. If it doesn’t, well. I know a nice tank top looking for a start.

PS. It is worth noting that a great deal of time was spent the last few days staring appalled at the news. It goes without saying that my heart breaks for those families and the thousands of other families who’ve lost loved ones and children to firearms. I’m not going to say much more than that. My feelings on guns and violence are well known and if you disagree with me, I doubt that my thoughts presented on the matter will change your mind. For the rest of you, I cannot imagine living in a country where the leading cause of death in children 1-19 is a firearm, and I bet it’s really scary. I hope you can change it. I know that so many of you feel that it’s not changeable – that somehow you’ve been stripped of the power of democracy or public assembly or the ability to rage in the street at the top of your lungs screaming “Not One More Child” as passionately for this as other causes, but it’s not true. The folks you have the power to toss out of their jobs would sure like you to believe that though. Hang in there. Keep trying.

Last week something happened. That alone is the start of an interesting post because – well, not much has been happening around here for a year or two. The thing was that I got on my bike and rode across town to Ken’s house, and I had dinner on his porch. We had a lovely time and shared food and wine and then I rode my bike home and when I got there, I realized that I’d left the fun rainbow coloured socks I was knitting behind. Ken rescued them and then said that since I was going back to his house in a few days for a Bike Rally thing, that I could get them then. This made absolute sense. I’d be reunited with my socks in 48 hours and goodness knows that I have a million WIPs here that I can turn to in my time of need, but it still didn’t sit right, you know what I mean?

I looked around the living room to see what was nearby and sure enough another sock project was within my grasp. It was a pair of socks I’ve been working on for months, in fact I cast them on for Joe last year and had every intention of finishing in time for Christmas but I didn’t and now I have been slogging away on them for what feels like eons. (It is worth noting that while Joe has terrifically large feet and the socks are patterned, it is actually not possible for a knitter of my experience to be working on a pair of socks for months. It just isn’t. If socks are are still on my needles after this long, then you should know that I am using the word “working” to mean that I look at them often and feel bad but opt for something more fun.) They’re nice yarn, it’s a super cool pattern, there is nothing at all to account for my uncommitted nature except for (well see the name of the blog) and the fact that the big men’s socks in plain colours just… well, they do go on, don’t they?

In this moment though – with my “real” knitting stuck at Ken’s, I picked up those socks and beavered away on them, and do you know, they only took a few hours to finish?

Now, you would think that there is a lesson here, and you would be right. It would be a good idea to learn it too, because a little while ago I made a commitment to myself that I was going to tackle the bigger socks earlier this year so that I didn’t get stuck with them at the end when my commitment is low. Now – Now I tell you, now in the cheerful spring and soon in the bright colourful summer – these are the times to be knitting enormous socks in bland colours, not in November when the world’s nothing but bland itself.

So like I said, there is a lesson here, and I should learn it. You would think that maybe the lesson is that determination, commitment and perseverance are good traits to cultivate, and that if you do manage to summon up that trifecta of character gold – the rewards are immediate and many, and that the work is never as hard as you think it’s going to be.

You would think that, but instead I think I’ve learned that I’m only going to knit boring socks if they’re the only things on the needles and I shouldn’t have a temptation pair within reach. I will knit the boring socks if they are the only socks.

I’m plowing into another pair now, and they’re (almost) the only socks on the needles. (Ignore the colourful self striping in the background. I’m just having a look at it.)

PS. I know I said that originally those brown socks were for Joe for Christmas, and you would think that would mean that they would be in his possession now, what with being almost five months late, but you would be wrong. I’m considering myself ahead a pair for this year.