I really am enjoying this shawl now that I can do the border. Is that simple of me? Just a little distraction and I am rehabilitated.
The mohair is so complex in colour and texture. I'm not sure I have chose the right pattern, but I did dream about it for over a year, and I'm using up stash (gifted generously from my spinning, knitting sister) so I'm satisfied.
It was just an incidental project while I was wrestling the angels. If I didn't appreciate the blanket, my dear friend was brought to tears. I didn't know I delivered it on her daughter's birthday. Said daughter is due in May and living in Calgary, nursing where I trained. A circle.
Now that I'm working the border, the shawl is completely new and exciting for me. But to my husband I'm still knitting. It's funny to think that I sit in my chair or at the rink or in the car and do the same thing every day.
From my side of the needles it is new and challenging and self-directed risk-taking. Something to dream about, ponder and be distracted when D. goes on about his work (vaccinating calves anyone). Because I have my nursing training, my faked interest is more convincing and I can even squeeze out semi-intelligent questions which, alas, only encourage him. I'm actually interested in epidemiology. Our poor children.
Can you imagine him asking, don't you think wooden needles would be more efficient? Or how do decide between set-in or raglan sleeves? Or don't you hate the finishing? That just makes me laugh. I'm lucky if I get a "hmmm".
But I do have friends whom I'm trying to get together with more often who knit. I've reinfected one who was always a better knitter than I. We've spent the last few weeks setting up her travel knitting for a trip to England. Her mother is the die-hard Granny knitter, but with today's grace and style.
Knitting flows through the events of my days and keeps me together.
