Night of the Day of the Dawn of the Son of the Bride of the Return of the Revenge of the Terror
Which is also known by its full title: "Night of the Day of the Dawn of the Son of the Bride of the Return of the Revenge of the Terror of the Attack of the Evil, Mutant, Alien, Flesh Eating, Hellbound, Zombified Living Dead Part 2: In Shocking 2-D".
Anyway, back in the sane world, as I was sitting in the drive through at McDonald's knitting away on my latest pair socks I birthed an idea. An idea that will take this blog in a whole new direction. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? (Get another cup of coffee, this one's a long one!)
Well, the beginning would be about a year before I actually learned to knit. That frosty February my husband once again sighed that irritated heavy sigh and rolled his eyes as I once again reached into my pack of cigarettes to head outside with the neighbors so that we could once again converse while smoking. I responded by once again promising to quit by the end of the year; the same promise I'd been making for a few years at that point. Fast forward to that hot, sticky August and forget the idea of quitting as I fussed and fretted and worried and paced with my best friend (the aforementioned neighbors, in case you were wondering) as Katrina took over New Orleans; leaving three households of her family with soggy, moldy, mildewed remains of what used to be homes. Then Rita headed our way hot on Katrina's heels. Chain-smoking was closer to what I was doing by the end of that year than quitting was. Why is this important? We'll get to that. On with the story.
The Thanksgiving break before I learned to knit a friend of mine mentioned that she wanted to learn to knit over the Christmas break. "Cool idea!" I said. "Let's learn together!" So I went out and bought us each some aluminum straight needles US size 8 and some worsted weight acrylic faux-suede. Although, to be fair, I must state that at the time I was buying "shiny needles" and "cool yarn". Sizes and weights would come much later. I presented a set of the needles and two balls of the yarn to my friend as an early Christmas present. To the best of my knowledge, those items are still sitting and collecting dust in her closet to this very day.
Finally, in January of 2006 I decided to take matters into my own hands and started searching the internet for instruction by asking Google "how to knit". After clicking several less than informative results I asked Google where I might "learn to knit". Long portion of the story short, and about a month later, I had mastered garter stitch and accidentally discovered the "k2tog" decrease. While knitting was fun, something interesting to do when the cable was out, I wasn't quite hooked yet. It would take a more drastic change in my life to make knitting stick.
So what would I call drastic change? Turns out that I'll be calling him Evan Louis. It was mid-April and that pesky little pink line wouldn't quit showing up in the window no matter how many times I threw the stick away and got a new one. I couldn't be pregnant again! But, I am and as a consequence all my cigarettes and my weekend trips to smoke filled bars had to go. Immediately. Terror! Panic! What was I supposed to do with my hands? What was I supposed to do with all that time freed up by not smoking? Why, knit of course! (See, told you the quitting thing was relevant!)
So I threw myself into the yarn pool with wild abandon and haven't looked back since. First was a Harry Potter Scarf, then lots of orphaned worsted weight acrylic socks, a layette set, a knitting exchange, a few hats, more socks, cables! Oh my! Now I fear I'm in over my head! Hopelessly addicted for life as newer, softer, yummier fibers present themselves at random junctures!
All of that has absolutely nothing at all to do with knitting in the drive-thru at McDonald's, right? Actually, it has everything to do with it. It's the evolution of how I came to be sitting in my car, stopped in line, knitting socks. That said, "what was your brilliant idea?" you ask. Well, that too has a story, though a much shorter one I promise!
At random points throughout my day, I find myself regretting my choice to leave my camera behind as I head out the door. Usually over simple little things like the way light hits a tree branch or the particular color of someone's custom automotive paint job. It's something that I've accepted as being part of life as an aspiring photographer. This day, at this moment in the drive-thru line, I found myself wishing that someone was there to take a picture of me knitting my socks in the drive-thru. My knitting goes with me absolutely everywhere. I'm an easily bored person. I must have something to do with my hands at all times. As I drove home with my sickeningly greasy fast-food lunch I started thinking about all the places my socks have been. About all the places all my projects have been. About how cool would it be to not only receive a knitted gift, but photos of lots of unusual places your gift has been and the people it met as it was "growing up"!
Which brings me to my whole new direction. In this new direction, you too will get to see where my projects have been. I'll also be throwing in the answers to questions people have asked me along the journey. The first answer will be a short tutorial on how I accomplished the Japanese (tabi) toe on my socks, which is by far the most frequently asked question from both knitters and non-knitters.
However, being that today is Halloween, I am a mommy, and it's almost 5pm here in my house, that tutorial must be held off until tomorrow so that I can feed my babies, dress them in cute costumes and take them to accost the neighborhood for candy that will undoubtedly end up being eaten more by my husband and myself than our children. Until then:
Anyway, back in the sane world, as I was sitting in the drive through at McDonald's knitting away on my latest pair socks I birthed an idea. An idea that will take this blog in a whole new direction. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? (Get another cup of coffee, this one's a long one!)
Well, the beginning would be about a year before I actually learned to knit. That frosty February my husband once again sighed that irritated heavy sigh and rolled his eyes as I once again reached into my pack of cigarettes to head outside with the neighbors so that we could once again converse while smoking. I responded by once again promising to quit by the end of the year; the same promise I'd been making for a few years at that point. Fast forward to that hot, sticky August and forget the idea of quitting as I fussed and fretted and worried and paced with my best friend (the aforementioned neighbors, in case you were wondering) as Katrina took over New Orleans; leaving three households of her family with soggy, moldy, mildewed remains of what used to be homes. Then Rita headed our way hot on Katrina's heels. Chain-smoking was closer to what I was doing by the end of that year than quitting was. Why is this important? We'll get to that. On with the story.
The Thanksgiving break before I learned to knit a friend of mine mentioned that she wanted to learn to knit over the Christmas break. "Cool idea!" I said. "Let's learn together!" So I went out and bought us each some aluminum straight needles US size 8 and some worsted weight acrylic faux-suede. Although, to be fair, I must state that at the time I was buying "shiny needles" and "cool yarn". Sizes and weights would come much later. I presented a set of the needles and two balls of the yarn to my friend as an early Christmas present. To the best of my knowledge, those items are still sitting and collecting dust in her closet to this very day.
Finally, in January of 2006 I decided to take matters into my own hands and started searching the internet for instruction by asking Google "how to knit". After clicking several less than informative results I asked Google where I might "learn to knit". Long portion of the story short, and about a month later, I had mastered garter stitch and accidentally discovered the "k2tog" decrease. While knitting was fun, something interesting to do when the cable was out, I wasn't quite hooked yet. It would take a more drastic change in my life to make knitting stick.
So what would I call drastic change? Turns out that I'll be calling him Evan Louis. It was mid-April and that pesky little pink line wouldn't quit showing up in the window no matter how many times I threw the stick away and got a new one. I couldn't be pregnant again! But, I am and as a consequence all my cigarettes and my weekend trips to smoke filled bars had to go. Immediately. Terror! Panic! What was I supposed to do with my hands? What was I supposed to do with all that time freed up by not smoking? Why, knit of course! (See, told you the quitting thing was relevant!)
So I threw myself into the yarn pool with wild abandon and haven't looked back since. First was a Harry Potter Scarf, then lots of orphaned worsted weight acrylic socks, a layette set, a knitting exchange, a few hats, more socks, cables! Oh my! Now I fear I'm in over my head! Hopelessly addicted for life as newer, softer, yummier fibers present themselves at random junctures!
All of that has absolutely nothing at all to do with knitting in the drive-thru at McDonald's, right? Actually, it has everything to do with it. It's the evolution of how I came to be sitting in my car, stopped in line, knitting socks. That said, "what was your brilliant idea?" you ask. Well, that too has a story, though a much shorter one I promise!
At random points throughout my day, I find myself regretting my choice to leave my camera behind as I head out the door. Usually over simple little things like the way light hits a tree branch or the particular color of someone's custom automotive paint job. It's something that I've accepted as being part of life as an aspiring photographer. This day, at this moment in the drive-thru line, I found myself wishing that someone was there to take a picture of me knitting my socks in the drive-thru. My knitting goes with me absolutely everywhere. I'm an easily bored person. I must have something to do with my hands at all times. As I drove home with my sickeningly greasy fast-food lunch I started thinking about all the places my socks have been. About all the places all my projects have been. About how cool would it be to not only receive a knitted gift, but photos of lots of unusual places your gift has been and the people it met as it was "growing up"!
Which brings me to my whole new direction. In this new direction, you too will get to see where my projects have been. I'll also be throwing in the answers to questions people have asked me along the journey. The first answer will be a short tutorial on how I accomplished the Japanese (tabi) toe on my socks, which is by far the most frequently asked question from both knitters and non-knitters.
However, being that today is Halloween, I am a mommy, and it's almost 5pm here in my house, that tutorial must be held off until tomorrow so that I can feed my babies, dress them in cute costumes and take them to accost the neighborhood for candy that will undoubtedly end up being eaten more by my husband and myself than our children. Until then:
1 Comments:
This is a great idea! I learned to knit in January of 2006, also. I - like you - am totally, helplessly addicted.
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