MUCH has happened since last I wrote. My duties as one of four co-chairs of the Eighth Grade Pancake Breakfast are now complete, after a 3 am wakeup and a respectable serving of 1,500 breakfasts on Friday morning. The only mishap, other than running out of sausage and pancake cooks who did not want to stop making pancakes, happened here:
(That’s 3,700 pieces of bacon being laid out to meet its destiny. The stuff of dreams and nightmares, I tell you!)
During the pregame food prep, I was dismantling Canteloupe #9 and managed to slice my left index finger. One of the cooks handed me a Band-Aid and said, “It was one of those blue knives, wasn’t it?” to which I said yes, and she nodded. “It’s always those blue knives,” which made me think: it’s funny how we know things aren’t always quite right, but we don’t always fix them, do we?
Which brings me to the knitting thing. I didn’t think much of my cut until I hunkered down with the ol’ Donegal project and found that the cut was precisely at the landing spot for Yarn No. 2. You know: you hold the two yarns for Fair Isle across your index fingers. I couldn’t get anything going, what with the Band-Aid mucking up the works. And taking off the Band-Aid meant that all that woolly goodness was slicing right into the cut.
Ech! Sorry! I just gave myself that electricity-in-my-feet feeling.
It was just as well, actually, because I was crabby about this small circular needle anyway, and this gave me the opportunity to take some of the good advice suggested last time I wrote about the challenge of knitting on a 12″-inch circular. (Thanks, you guys, for all the ideas.) Time to swap out some needles.
I didn’t have a long size three, to do Magic Loop. But I do have a pile of size 3 circs, so I went with the notion of knitting the sleeve on two circular needles. I do this sort of thing all the time–I love two circs! Makes me think of Cat Bordhi, and that’s never a bad thing. I threaded the stitches onto two Clover bamboo circs, only to remember that Clovers are not good for this two-circs knitting thing: the cables are too stiff to droop out of the way properly. I limped back to my needle stash, dragging my bad finger behind me, to dig up some floppier-becabled needles.
Great, great. I got that all situated, only to find that the sleeve had become even more tangled than before, what with all the floppy circs and the two yarns and the narrow diameter of the sleeve and the so forth and the so on. The constant yarn changes, with the accompanying spit-felting, made all this exhaustingly cumbersome, worse than ever.
So I ditched the two circs and returned to my 12″ circular, relieved that at least I knew what the deal was. It was like trying to get comfortable in an airplane seat: no matter how many pillows you stuff around yourself, no matter how cleverly you wedge yourself against the bulkhead, you inexorably arrive at that moment when you have to accept the fact that you’re trying to sleep sitting upright.
If you need proof of why spit-felting is superior to not-spit-felting, take a look at the right side, where I was joining yarns before I remembered to do spit-felting. That’s FUN ON THE HORIZON, folks.
By Sunday, my wound had healed up enough that only a little yarn got stuck in the cut–JUST KIDDING! Just trying to gross you out. I flipped the sweater inside out to work the sleeves, because working a narrow-diameter Fair Isle inside out means that your floats automatically get a little longer, and you don’t end up with those pinched floats inside when you’re knitting with the right side out. Once I did this, things really started looking up: my stitches were smoother, I was reconciled to knitting with these $(%*&$*# freaking needles, and I knew at some point this flight was going to end.
Still picking yarn out of my wound–JUST KIDDING!
PS Still wallowing in the season finale of Mad Men. Wasn’t it deluxe?