Saturday, June 6, 2015

SnapShots: Knitwise

(Snapshot: an informal photograph that is taken quickly, a quick view, or a small amount of information.)

Lately, I've been having trouble selecting a topic to write about. It's not because I don't have anything to say, au contraire, it's because I'm easily distracted and have trouble staying on topic and selecting a single story. As in, "Blahblahblah, Oh, look a pretty bird, blahblah, Oh, a squirrel!" Get the picture?

I've started many stories and they all get saved and end up in my draft box. So please allow me to get rid of a few wayward words and pictures and declutter the snippets of stories in my head. Thanks Y'all.

Knitting can be hazardous to your health ~ 


Gank: The Art of Manliness 7/23/09


Fuzzy Socks ~
 
I've knit two pairs of socks in the last couple of days. Well, actually, I haven't finished anything but I have knit and unknit and knit and unknit enough times that it should amount to knitting four individual socks. I should get some kind of credit for all the tinking and frogging I've done. (Tink is knit spelled backwards; a frog says "Rip it, Rip it" - both means to unknit either a little or a lot.)

By the way, I've worked on these sad socks off and on for a couple of years. And at this point in time, they're not very inspiring so I'm going to put them away and maybe I'll take them out again next year. Stay tuned. . . .







Lack of Focus ~

What does the frog say? "Rip it, Rip it."

I've been doing a lot of knitting lately. So much so that my inner arm aches, as in ulnar irritation. Okay, so I diagnosed myself, but, hey, it's not like I do manual labor, or lift weights, or even exercise for that matter so it's gotta be the knitting.

Unfortunately I have nothing to show for all that knitting because I've been doing an equal amount of unknitting.


Knitting a hat from a (too short wingspan) shawlette.


Shat: Shawl & Hat


Rip it, rip it (hat was too big).


Shat! Yarny badness
 
I relayed my multiple tales of knitting woe to The Man. He had to humor me and listen - it was my birthday afterall. Besides I'm pretty sure he could still hear me even though he had pulled the flannel sheet over his head.

His muffled advice from under the covers, "Maybe you're not focusing."

Me: I think the yarn is cursed, I'm blaming it on the neon color.


You're getting sleepy.