knitting season

In order to have awesome legwarmers by the first snowfall, you have to start now. I am making haute couture legwarmers for myself. I estimate that they will take 100+ man hours. Plus $40 for 4 skeins of dusty blue cashmerino yarn. For the next two months I have a second job called knitting. It pays about one half-inch of leg warmer per hour. But hey- beats takin' out the trash, folks!


(The legs below are not mine! This is a pic from the knitting mag)


I am a seasonal knitter. About once every 5 years I come out of fibernation and make a few things. I get all bulked up on chunky knits, then take it easy for another 5 years or so. I have a ton of failures and a few qualified successes. Heavily qualified. I was home in Black River over the weekend and spent a half hour ripping apart my parents' dresser drawers hoping to find a giant sweater I made my dad nine years ago. I was going to steal it back from him. Not really stealing since I made it for myself and f'd it up to the tune of the Jolly Green Giant- hence, gift for Dad. It's probably for the best that I stuck it in the garage sale pile at least 5 years ago. Whenever I wore it, the sweater was in a constant state of falling off- but last weekend I wanted nothing more than to have that sweater again. I have made ten full-size sweaters that I can remember. There is only one that I have never regretted making. Seven of them have ended up twice as big around as they were supposed to be. The other three I didn't use a pattern for. They were more frankensteinian. At least they didn't physically hurt people- unlike my forays into knitting hats for children. I once gave a hat so small to new parents that when they put it on their baby's head, my whole family demanded they take it off for fear of disfiguring him. Which brings me to my unwavering stance on the act of knitting:

it's the thought that counts
(and you better think twice)

P.S. all 100+ knitting hours made possible by my aunt Cecily's gift of cashmerino- THANK YOU!