This Just In


Woman Knits Lace Shawl, Survives to Tell Tale



Dateline Fairview, Oregon:

A woman known locally only as "That Strange Lady With all the Yarn" was found this morning in her suburban home, crumpled in the corner of an upstairs room.  Officials arrived on the scene after an anonymous tip reported muffled sobs coming from inside the house. 

When traditional methods failed to revive the woman, an alert paramedic was able to bring her back to consciousness by holding a skein of cashmere under her nose.

"We see all kinds in this business," noted the hero, "You hate to have to bring out the heavy artillery like that, but it's all worth it when somebody who's helpless can be brought back from the brink." 

Fortunately for the Fairview knitter, the paramedic had recently learned cutting-edge Wool-Coma Revival techniques.  Cashmere administration, in addition to other life-saving skills are taught to EMT personnel in training for the Fiber Intervention Task Force.  It's all in a day's work for the F.I.T.F.  In addition to Wool Coma, the F.I.T.F. routinely intervene in cases such as Mohair Huffing, Alpaca Frenzies, and once stepped in when a fiber fiend was caught trying to mainline Angora yarn.  "You wouldn't believe the tangling," he remembered of the case.


When asked what event had lain her low, the Lady With all the Yarn's only reply was to whimper softly and motion to the other side of the room, where what could only be described as a handkint lace shawl was ritualistically pinned to the floor:

On closer inspection, officials at the scene were able to piece together an all-night knitting/washing/blocking scenario gone terribly wrong.  "We see it all the time," said one officer. "These knitters think they can handle themselves; that they know what they're doing; but in the end something goes wrong and they are in over their heads before they even know it."

"We hate to see this kind of debauchery going on secretly in a community like this," observed an onlooker.  "She didn't seem like the type.  You know; quiet, kept to her herself - not the sort who would be carrying on like that behind closed doors."  
 


Once sufficiently revived, the woman confirmed suspicions of a late night shawl-making marathon that got out of hand.  "I thought I could handle it." stated the woman. "I kept thinking, just one more repeat, and then I can bind it off and block it.  Somewhere around the middle of the night, I guess I just lost my senses.  The last thing I remember was trying to score some blocking wires - you know - you just need one more to get that big Completion Buzz.  It all seemed innocent enough, but I guess was courting disaster."

Officials did not comment on whether charges will be leveled, but the alleged shawl knitter considers herself lucky to have been saved from her coma.  "I'm just so lucky to be here." she said weakly.  "So very, very lucky."

Film at eleven.

16 Repeats

I know this is hard to believe, but I have just now, on row ten million of the shawl, recognized a fundamental truth: 

This thing is slowing down as I move toward the end of it.

You would think that such cosmic trusim might have occurred to me before this point in the process, but there you have it.  I can't believe it - I'm actually going slower and slower because each row has more stitches in it than the last one.

Which means that right up to the point where that little lightbulb of a notion asserted itself, I was actually thinking - wait for it - that I should be finishing this up any time now

It was only when I counted the number of repeats actually present in the shawl, and then compared them to the number required by the pattern, that I truly understood:  I have been knitting a lot of diamonds, but there are many more still to knit. 

Stupid numbers.  Rotten counting.  Why's it always gotta be the math harshing my mellow? 

Indignation Complete.  Must be Monday.

I Can Quit Any Time I Want

So, sure, my arms hurt.  And sure, the only cure for that is to rest them from the activity that caused the hurt.  I get it.  Time to take a break from knitting.  Much.  It's not like a have a problem or anything...

I was spinning, as you know.  Spinning and spinning, and making lots of nice Caora Dubh singles, chipping away at the pile of washed locks I promised myself I would get done before the end of May.  Here is some of that work, which you have to take my word as being recent, since this bobbin looks just exactly like all the others that came before it.  

And then I realized that my dear friend and college roommate Jill is having her 40th birthday party this Saturday.  This is the Jill who starved and shivered with me in New York City.  The Jill who held my hand on my wedding day.  The Jill who woke my babies up just so she could play with them before she had her own.  There is no way her birthday could go past me unacknowledged by knitwear.  So I fell off the wagon a little:

I'm a little bit smug about this one, because while Jill has a wool allergy (Poor Jill. That's like having a Banana Split allergy.  Why bother even getting out of bed?), I still wanted to knit her something, and the stash yielded one perfect skein of Comfy Sport , which is the perfect Jill Color (Honey Dew), and the perfect Jill softness, and the perfect Jill non-wool.  Clearly the Universe wants me to knit.  Get a load of that sheen, will ya?

And I was enjoying the lace so much that I realized I would really be letting down the Shawl-Along if I didn't spend a little time with Lindsay's beautiful triangle.  Which I am now finally beginning to get the hang of and wish to high heaven that I had put beads on, like Maria did.  See, even though I wasn't technically supposed to be knitting, it's okay because I switched gauges by changing to a different project, which we all know is a very healthy thing to do.  Heck, that was probably better for me than not knitting.

And then at Campbell's soccer game, it was so cold that I had to pull this out of my bag just to cover my face with it.  I may have accidentally knit on it as well - I was distracted by my shivering and it's possible that I forgot I wasn't supposed to be knitting.  

So while it is true that in the strictest sense, I didn't achieve my goal of not knitting this week, I think I still have everything under control.  I mean, it's not like I made an afghan, for pity's sake.  You don't see any Bohus around here, for crying out loud.  And although Phillip and the Smallies have been smirking a lot, they couldn't possibly understand:

Think how much knitting I'd have done if I hadn't been trying not to.