Gah, what a pair of whiners we are. You’d think we didn’t like to knit or something. Ech! Enough with the complaining–I mean, we’re the luckiest clams in the sea, hon, sitting here with our little weird knitting projects, with some of our faculties intact, you with that pedometer and me with the newfound exploration of Pilates.
Speaking of which, if anybody out there wants to laugh their asses off at their own incompetence, I’m here to tell you: Pilates provides the greatest absurdity-per-minute ratio of any exercise regime. It’s great–there’s this contraption–whoops, I meant THIS contraption. The teacher (in my case a beautiful young thing who was recently a Rockette–of course) asks you to hold a small ball under your back with a bouncy ring gizmo between your knees while sticking your hands in these trapezey pulley things while, at ALL TIMES, doing something she calls “belly deep.”
It’s so taxing that at one point I heard a small squeaking sound and realized that somehow, my brassiere was giving out. My foundation garment could not hack it, so imagine how the rest of me is doing.
I’ve Got a New Attitude
Thanks to everybody for the much-needed help on the Print o’ the Wave stole. Not so much thanking to smarty pants Kristy for pointing out that I had 43 repeats to go instead of 33. (Actually, Kristy is the opposite of mean, having set up a project to knit squares for a dear grandma who could use a blanket. Here’s her project, all you square knitters.)
The border continues in a head-down, get-through-the-sandstorm way. At this point I’ve abandoned hope that I’ll finish the Dakar Rally. I threw a belt on the Land Rover when the tiny ball of yarn rolled down a hill during David’s tennis practice, so now the slim remains of the yarn are sort of breaded with mulch flurf. Ah, whatever. I traded for a camel at the oasis, so I’m trying to be all Bedouin about the thing.
I cling to Laurie’s hope for a miracle that the yarn holds out. And I chant the words of Lorinda: “Knit fast, honey; then you’ll have enough yarn to finish.”
PS A Summons to Memphis! A road trip looms. I’m going to be talking at the Southern Festival of Books on Saturday, October 14, 1:30 pm. If you are a Memphonian, or a Little Rocker, or Germantownie, or Mississippian, or a knitter in search of a better way, come on. This will surely rank as the first knitting book ever to be included in the Southern Festival of Books. We knitters have a lot to prove to these philistines.