Oh goodness, this is a boring blog, is it not? Badly in need of some news and some photographs. Nothing to see here, just move along quietly… It is with the loudest of sighs that I type these words. I have offended the Knitting Goddess – that much is clear for, not only has she sent me umpteen things to keep me away from my needles, but has also come up to slap me in the face on those occasions when I have avoided her scheming and actually managed to sit down with the pointy things and a ball of yarn. Serves me right for maligning her but, hey – she broke my needle!
I had hoped to report on three more WIP-FOs by the end of the month but I am not going to manage even one. The Petra-fied hand warmers have made no progress since I knitted the cuff on the second one at spinning group. They could be done in one day but I’m just not finding the time and the necessary light for such tiny stitches. The second Swallowtail shawl makes only sporadic progress, as I knit only the odd row at coffee breaks. That is nowhere near completion. Theoretically, three sessions would have done it – but that goddess, she keeps me busy with paperwork and webmastering and other things… My major hope for a quick hit this week was the reviving of the Cascading Leaves shawl. I had misgivings when I checked my Ravelry notes on it. I had constant misgivings as I knitted on it. I was in Denial, it is true – but it was there in black and white pixels – 4.5mm needles. After knitting 15% of the shawl, the goddess got her own way and I frogged it back to the beginning this morning. It is now on 3.5mm needles, and far happier for it – but a lot further away from being a January FO.
They will all have to count as February FOs, I am afraid.
Also in the pipeline for reporting this week was the January FO Butternut Scarf, Ingrid. Time has been the issue on the blocking of that, and it still isn’t done.
In fact, the only new FO that I do have, I can’t report on – as it is a Top Secret Project.
So, there we have it, no exciting developments, no pretty images – just a slap about the chops with a wet codfish, from an irate knitting goddess.