Are We There Yet?

The long and winding road of sweater body

How things are measured has been much on my mind of late.  On a long road trip I count the exits, rather than the miles.  In knitting, I go by how many repeats instead of rows or inches.  Along with this I like to know whenever possible where the midpoint is.  It's the impatient child within me, constantly demanding to know when we will BE there, already, and how long will THAT take?

Being result-oriented has its advantages, to be sure.  I can usually be counted on to know when the end is, whether or not it's in sight.  I know when the deadlines are, even if it's only in time to hear them go screeching by.  But the challenge for me has always been to enjoy processes and journeys; the getting of getting there. 

I'm pondering these imponderables as I work up the body of this pullover, feeling adrift in a sea of stockinette.  I've done my best to keep it interesting:  There is more than one color.  The motif repeats are far enough apart that I can't completely disconnect myself from the chart.  The yarn is delightful and feels springy in my hands.  

In spite of all that, I still have this awareness of when the end of the song should be, and that I'm still in the middle of the second verse.   I even let myself quit working on the body and cast on a sleeve last night, just to break up the doldrums.  I tried to tell myself that I was making the sleeve for a completely different design and that it was brand new to me.  I did not believe me.

Maybe this project is too similar to my last one.  The two pieces are companions, and making them back to back seemed like the best way to ensure continuity.  So if I consider that this sweater is a continuation of the previous one, then it actually began with the cast-on of the other project, some four weeks ago.  That's a long time for me to be working on anything, so it would explain my ennui. 

DH is fond of reminding me that when something you love becomes your job, you sometimes can't help thinking of it as work.  Here are the affirmations that will pull me through this project:  (This will work; really)

I know that I can finish this based on the fact that I just finished one a lot like it.
                    
I am the luckiest knitter in the world:  I get to create whatever I want for the show-and-tell that is my book.  I am making the things that only existed in my head before!  No sniveling is allowed over something I wanted the chance to do so much.

When I'm done with this, the next project will be completely different, and the honeymoon will take much longer to be over next time.

After this is  finished, and I put it away for a while, seeing it again will be like meeting a new friend.  I will be able to appreciate all the things that made me want to create it in the first place.
 

The view from my lap.  Same view as yesterday.  Tommorrow looks similar, too.