Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Gahuge!


That's my new morphed word of huge and gauge, 'cause that's indeed what I have. It's like discovering I have an eleventh finger or that my belly button goes all the way through. (I don't and it doesn't,) but if I did...there's not much to be done except giggle an embarrassed giggle and deal with it.

So I rrrrripped out the satchell after my first encounter with the great ladies of my new knitting circle at my LYS. But not before I compared my loosey goosey gauge with an actual SWATCH (yes I SWATCHED.) (That was like discovering a whole new continent!) (Looks like it's time to invest in a new camera. The old one's been dropped a million times and the liquid crystal display has a green fractal looking slash across it.) So I went to a needle diameter HALF of what was called for. Half. I pick, I don't throw. And I don't wrap the yarn around my fingers to guide it- I don't like that much friction. So I guess it's kind of loose, but it feels comfortable to me.

Cats don't mind friction.

I spent a few days at the cottage to decompress from the stress of knitting a swatch, and I enjoyed a night of cooking up a batch of homemade polenta covered with homegrown sauteed kale, tomatoes, and store bought olives. With a little spice, glass o vino and a stack of knitting magazines, the decompression was complete. So I found an intriquing drop stitch for a scarf, found some purple yarn and went to town. Will show after I give it as the gift it is meant to be. Fun!

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