The first of C’s birthday socks knit in Regia Canadian “Comet” which, depending on whether he’s been phoning his brother like a good boy, is either appropriate because he has every electrical gadget going or because he’s a star.
And on Sunday night, after a wonderful day sat knitting in the sunshine with Mary, four needles and half a ball of yarn lay in a sock knitting bag.
On Monday morning, the warm sun came up, the knitter got on a train and POP! out of the sock bag came a tiny cast on.
The knitter started to knit. On Monday morning she knit the ribbing, but she still needed to knit more.
On Monday evening she knit two inches of stst, but she still needed to knit more.
On Tuesday morning she knit three inches of stst and half a short row heel, while the train got later and later; but she still needed to knit more.
On Tuesday lunchtime-ish she knit the other half of the heel and two inches of stst; but she still needed to knit more.
On Tuesday afternoon she knit another two inches of stst; but she still needed to knit more.
On Tuesday evening she knit three rounds; but she still needed to knit more.
On Wednesday morning she knit two inches of stst; but she still needed to knit more.
On Wednesday afternoon she played Solitaire on her Ipod for 10 minutes, then she knit the toe and felt a lot better.
On Wednesday early evening she kitchenered the toe in the car during the 10min drive home from the station; she wasn’t driving. And it wasn’t a tiny wee cast on edge now but a big piece of knitting.
And then the knitter turned the knitting inside out and wove in the ends of the cocoon and when she turned it back the right way it wasn’t a piece of knitting anymore, it was
This is to the envy of my parents who nurture and protect their Clematis from the storms, and even carefully took one all the way home on the train, whereas ours grows like a weed.