I started knitting…something. It isn’t exactly a real thing or a particular thing, but it is definitely starting to resemble a thing of tremendous proportions. I’ll admit that it wasn’t intended to have such tremendous proportions. I’ll acknowledge that perhaps I am less than the most alert and attentive knitter and that maybe, just maybe, by the time I finally started to wonder why the rows seemed to be taking longer and longer to knit when in theory as I got better it should be getting faster I had already been screwing up so badly and for so long that I had more than doubled the amount of stitches I had cast on and was now, maybe making a large tent or perhaps a sail.
You can’t tell, but there are approximately eight hundred thousand stitches here.
I should point out that part of the reason it took me so long to notice my crazy stitch-multiplying mistake was that I was very busy noticing all my other mistakes. Like how I was casually increasing and decreasing and, um, creating all new kinds of creasings that were turning what was supposed to be the nice straight edge of my shawl/throw/car cozy into a remarkably accurate depiction of the coastline of the Eastern United States. I’m very talented that way.
I appear to be some sort of savant. I’ve always suspected this about myself.
Aside from my extraordinary talents with fibrous geography, I am also, shall we say, frequently inspired to explore new and innovative ways of customizing my design. So when I discovered the first hole, I decided that I was just such a gifted knitting prodigy that I had already started adding “features” to my first project. This “feature” would allow me to hang my scarf/wrap/refrigerator cozy on a hook. Very handy. It was harder to find excuses, um, I mean uses for the other holes I found but now I’m thrilled to have places to hook a pen, clip a brooch, and thread ear buds. I am a master of my art.
I call them “features” and they are my friends.
Now, some things in life defy explanation. Some things fall under the category of unexplainable or mysterious or perhaps even zany. These things are prevalent in all aspects of life, from wondering who the hell keeps leaving the toilet paper roll with one measly square when clearly that is unacceptable to wondering why Paris Hilton is so damned famous anyways when clearly that is also unacceptable. As it turns out knitting is much the same and to prove that, I present to you exhibit A, wherein my yarn decides to go for a little meander through the knitting for no apparent reason and for which, I’m sure, there is no precedence.
Exhibit A or why tequila and yarn don’t mix.