At 2:30am this morning, I put down my needles. My hands were about to fall off, my eyes were bulging out of my head and a blister had started to form on my tensioning finger. I finished two sleeves, knit the collar and started one of the two pocket linings. Why, oh why, didn’t I listen to my better judgment and leave out the damn pockets? It was downright hopeless. Lest, of course, I wanted to pull my first all-nighter since college and live the rest of my life without hands… I had to pack it in. I cradled my hands like they were precious little babies as I slept last night.
I dreamt that I was blocking the sweater. But I was doing it all wrong. I was putting my iron directly on the dry fabric of the sweater. I burned it completely. The smell was horrible. 8am came too soon and oh ya, I hadn’t packed yet.
My friend was really understanding about me not finishing the sweater. He has a back up Christmas gift for his mom and I breathed a sigh of relief. There’s nothing like disappointing someone. Nothing. Except maybe disappointing two someones. So here I am at the airport, working on another gift.
Well, I use the term “working” lightly. What I’m really doing is staring at this project, trying to will my hands to do something other than shake uncontrollably and cursing myself for packing projects that are all on size 4 needles or smaller. I apparently do not have any foresight whatsoever.