(in the next 12 months)
My Dad worked in accounting for my entire childhood, and when I haven’t been in school, my kids have been, so between the fiscal year for Dad, which meant big honking projects that he always had to bring home, and getting new pencils and notebooks, September always feels like the beginning of the year for jobs and projects to me. Plus, the weather will become cooler, which always motivates me to knit, so I usually start planning major knit undertakings in the Fall.
1. Peacock Feathers Shawl: I picked up the pattern and yarn for this some months ago. I am not too familiar with working charts, especially not those split between several pages, so this is going to be a challenge. I’ve held off starting this so far. I still want to finish up some other goals first, but maybe right after Christmas, I can set aside some time to really study the charts and get it underway.
2. Sanquhar Gloves: I got the patterns for these through wonderful friends and group connections. The only genuine patterns available have to be ordered from a women’s group in Scotland and paid for in Euros or whatever. No Paypal, no credit cards, they want a UK check or money order. A friend of mine through Mensa contacted a friend of hers in England, who then contacted me and agreed to purchase the patterns. He then scanned them in and sent them via email, AND sent me the patterns via snail. I think I owe him a pair of gloves. Ain’t technology grand? I’m looking forward to cussing up a storm over tiny needles as I work on these. No, I really mean that. A little knitting frustration makes the rest of the day seem easier, and then, when I DO get it right, I feel really successful!
3. A felted chair pad for my favorite chair in the dining room. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? Unless you’re picky about it, and I know that once I get around to seriously addressing the issue of whereupon my butt parketh itself regularly, I will be likely to become disgruntled if the chair pad isn’t right. The chair’s got one of those seats with a rounded back edge and wider, flattish front, and I really don’t want too much uncovered. A quest for the perfect pad will no doubt use up a great many otherwise productive hours. Snort.
4. More kitchen crap: I’ve been making and mutating Ball band dishcloths for a couple of weeks now. I am, apparently, congenitally unable to use the exact yarns called for in any pattern, nor can I bring myself to make it to spec and leave it alone. Something always needs a customized border, or I want to turn an overly wide dishcloth 90 degrees, add a gather and a loop and hang it on my frig as a towel instead. And so on. So, now, of course, I have three dishcloths and three towels with custom toppers. Somewhere, deep in my “I like to make crap” soul, I am convinced that I need more. Maybe they all need matching felted potholders, a toaster cozy, and my folk art chicken might need a neck warmer and hat. I’ll find out when the kitchen crap gods visit me, late in the dark, strange night…..
5. A cardigan for myself. I’m like the shoemaker’s kids, only towards myself. (You know, the shoemaker’s kids never had any shoes because he always made them for other people?) Mechanics are like that, too, they always have the crappiest cars on the block because they can fix up their own beaters and keep them running, well into the next decade, so they do.
Every few years, I decide to make myself a new cardigan. I get halfway through making it, have an epiphany that so-and-so might like it a whole lot, so, so-and-so gets a gorgeous sweater. Or I get bored, set it aside for too long, then when I pick it up again, I don’t want a sweater made out of THAT anymore, so I frog it. My entire family stood by in shock one year, staring at me with gaping mouths, as I frogged a gorgeous Norwegian, intricately color-patterned sweater I had made for myself because I decided after trying it on for the umpteenth time, that I didn’t like the yoke after all. It was too loud. Urg!
I have one mangy old sweater that I made over 20 years ago for myself, which I have worn to death. It’s all over pills and the sleeves have shrunk up above my wrists. It’s perfect for working in the garden or other dumb stuff because I don’t care if it gets filthy or snagged. The damned thing wears like iron. I know if I make a super-spiffy one, I’ll find excuses NOT to wear it because I won’t want anything to happen to it, and, frankly, I don’t live a tea party life. So, I’m just going to have to have a talk with myself and decide on a practical sweater to make and then do it, by gum! Wish me luck!
Have a great weekend!