Sometimes I ignore a rule for so long that I don’t even remember whether it’s a rule anymore, as I would imagine an astronaut living on a space station starts to wonder whether gravity was really that big of a deal.
One thing that I know to be true is that if a knitter is faithful to a project, and knits on it daily, that project gets done. Even if it is a very big project, and the knitter is a medium to slow knitter, the stitches cram into rows and the rows pile into centimeters and inches and in some cases, meters and yards of knitted fabric. This is one of the blessed assurances of knitting: unlike so many other aspects of life, if you put in the work, you get what you set out to get.
Life gets in the way of me following this Rule of Knitterly Fidelity, as when a project gets laid aside for something more portable or TV friendly, or a Drop Everything And Knit This Now pattern crosses my peripheral vision. I even have another rule that gets in the way of me following this rule. I generally believe that since knitting is my hobby, and hobbies are for fun and enjoyment, I should do as I please and cast on as often as the mood strikes, and damn the torpedoes. My hobby, my rules.
Lately, though, I found myself following the Rule of Knitterly Fidelity with my Tokyo Shawl. In recent weeks, I’ve had road trips and train trips and then, last weekend, two plane trips plus many hours of sitting and visiting and being driven around in Omaha, Nebraska, where the scenery is imprinted on my memory from infancy. As a result, today I find myself a mere three stripes away from accomplishing the 29 fine-gauge stripes of my Tokyo Shawl.
Which means I have approximately seven hours of knitting left to go.
Yes, I timed a stripe. I was on a plane. It kept the mind occupied.
I write this as a testament to the Rule of Knitterly Fidelity, and in hopes of giving a helpful kick in the pants to anybody out there who needs encouragement to keep knitting on an endless project. Shawls do come to an end. And then you can cast on another one.