The hard stuff

A couple of weeks ago, my entire class was talking; was stressing; was obsessing. About The Moot.

No one really knew what to expect, but we knew it was a big deal, that it counted.

So maybe it was not a big surprise that I had a nightmare. What the nightmare was about? That was quite the surprise.

It was about socks.

I had been reading a pile of sock books borrowed from the library.

This week, there was no school. My plan was to spend this past week knitting socks, sock, and more socks.

But for some reason, I was becoming terrified. Of the sizing, of the pattern, and, most of all, of the heel.

So I procrastinated, and put it off, I crocheted, I knit on other projects. Anything to keep from having to work some short rows.

But finally on Thursday, I ended up with unexpected knitting time, and got down to business.

So this week? I didn't manage the piles and piles of socks that I dreamed of.

But. I managed to turn a single heel.

Between that and having successfully completed the moot (I didn't cry - goal achieved!), I feel a little bit like I could manage anything. Maybe even knitting a second sock.

Valentines

I don't, honestly, know how I feel about Valentine's day.

In the past it has made me feel powerful, lonely, guilty and sad.

But Em & I got into a horrible habit of not celebrating each other in our first years. That couldn't continue.

I am blessed and I need reminders to remind her that I know that (because being human, I forget).

So I used this day as one of those.

And, maybe, so did she.

Pictured above is the valentine I made for her from Cori Kindred's excellent tutorial for poppytalk. You can also buy one of the little books as made by Cori (they are just beautiful).

Pictured below is the valentine she made for me. Such an amazing thing to come home to.

Back to myself

February has not been an easy month so far.

My brain was not my own for a couple of weeks while major (and novel) assignments took more energy than I knew I possessed.

The house got slowly messier and messier. There was no peace at home, no peace at school, no peace I could find at all.

But this week, the assignments were finally done. I had a beer or two, I relaxed.

I looked around the house, thinking "this will not do". Last night bedtime came and went while Em and I cleaned just a little bit of the house.

It feels so much better now.

That picture up there? That's Em & me: hers is the Tyrannosaurus, mine is the needles. That little vignette brought me such peace last night, still brings it today.

I'm taking deep breaths before diving back in, hoping to remember that we can make things beautiful, that it's not as hard as it seems to find a bit of calm.

Getting to good (when starting isn't a problem)

I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted the scarf to be like.

Debating between two patterns, I actually did the "good knitter" thing, and cast on samples of each.

My first was the one row handspun scarf pattern. With this "swatch", I am immoderately pleased, as I actually cast on enough stitches that the width was appropriate for a dishcloth (42 was, of course, the answer).

I next cast on an actual swatch (11 stitches) to test out a mistake rib pattern.

The one-row handspun pattern was the clear winner (in person, the columns of knit stitches are much easier to see). So I cast on 42 stitches in my scarf yarn.

No go - the colours of the yarn hid the knit columns too well. It was frogged. I retried with the mistake rib and 43 stitches (multiple of 4 +3). Not quite wide enough. It was frogged.

3rd try (charming, right?). 52 stitches, mistake rib, deep breaths. Finally it's looking right.

This is how I think knitting is supposed to work, often. 2 test swatches, 2 false starts, but finally an inch of progress on a scarf that looks promising. (Raveled.)

I have a major paper due this week, and the last thing I want is a lesson of this kind. Too late, I guess.

(Apologies for crap lighting on photos - it was late when I finished my learning).