|This image wasn't taken by me (but, frighteningly enough, it inspires me a bit |
with all the possibilities for cat knitting). Click here to go to CuteOverload.com.
Yesterday I was sick. Once again, for the fourth time this winter, I was congested and exhausted, and, for the second time, I experienced laryngitis. I stayed home, where I sat on the couch near the warmth of the flames of the gas logs. (I had to revise my original sentence here, which read, "I stayed home sick, where I sat with the gas logs burning on the couch." I must still be a bit woozy from my illness, to have misplaced my modifier in such a negligent manner. Anyway, the English teacher in me has to laugh.)
Between shifting loads of laundry from the washer to the dryer to baskets, I worked on a sweater. I was surprised to learn today, that yesterday was "National Sweater Day," so in my own way I celebrated that obscure holiday, even if my celebration was solitary and the only feasting I did was to drink hot soup and tea. I've been madly knitting a sweater, a stylish one I talked about several blog posts back. I'd had to put the sweater aside, so that I could complete some baby gifts, but am determined to get it done by the end of February, in the hopes that I can wear it before the arrival of the sometimes early North Carolina spring.
Of course, in my cold-medicine fog, I knit rows and rows of a lace yoke on the front, only to find I'd skipped part of the armhole shaping. Oddly enough, ripping out the rows, in the quiet of a peaceful day wasn't terribly disheartening, though. I don't regard the work of knitting as a pressure that weighs me down, but, rather, as connecting points on a sometimes tricky dot-to-dot drawing that will come together, making a work of art, in the end.
|I love cartoons from The New Yorker.|
|Front and back of sweater in progress.|