I’m getting a bit shameless about knitting/crocheting anywhere and everywhere (except at work: my patients would be disconcerted to find their psychologist muttering over stitch-counts as they entered the consulting room. Unless they’re knitters, of course.) Oh, and I’d best gloss over my recent attempt to knit secretly under the table at the pub whilst having a rare lunch date with the Stoic Spouse. I know he reads this blog, and I’m not sure his disapproval of that incident has worn off yet. See, he’s not that stoic. If only the ball of yarn hadn’t rolled out from under the table, I swear he’d never have known.
But anywhere else is fair game… such as those places where they warehouse toddlers amongst sand-pits, ball-pits, tractor runs, climbing frames, and cute animals. I’ve long been a bit wary of these places, but I was persuaded to try one by a good friend and her son, so I took the Toddler Twinnage along with them on Saturday. In addition to seeing my lovely friend, this was a prime knitting opportunity, and I managed a good few rounds of a sleeve for the jumper-of-unrivalled-(not-to-mention-unravelled)-despair whilst my highly anxious children took wary steps closer and closer to the sand-pit. I completely understand their reticence, having been similarly petrified of pretty much everything at their age. I really do get their caution, and I think it’s OK. So I sat there, working a sleeve, and flinging the occasional word of encouragement in their direction.
We were much more at home amongst the animals: the Toddler Twinnage are very used to farm animals. Except for the llama: he was mean. Knittable he might have been in theory, but he was damned if he was going to let me anywhere near his fleece without a dirty fight. See how this photo is slightly shaky? That’s because I was worried he was about to spit. Do you reckon he could tell that I was coveting his tummy-fluff?
Next time I’m tempted to moan about how my job is so hard, please remind me that there are people out there whose livelihood depends on shaving llamas. Yes llamas, those grumble-tempered beasts who find amusement in gobbing at your eyes. Nice.
Anyway, I backed slowly away from the llamas, waved from a distance at the alpacas (whilst fantasising about their yarn), tried but failed to snatch an angora rabbit from an innocent child’s arms, and found some sheep. “Sheep!” I called, “What do you think of my knitting? Ta for the wool, by the way.” These sheep thought my knitting was baaaaaaaad.
Back to the sleeve. Look at this ribbing! Instead of normal 1×1 rib, it’s K1 tbl, P1. Neat, huh?
So thanks to all this knitting-in-public, we have something that’s beginning to resemble a sleeve for the Thermal jumper. Look!
But in case you think that the jumper is going a little too well after its 18-month hiatus, it was only when I got home that I realized I’d got muddled in my waffle stitch, and would have to frog back. Here are the needles inserted lower down, ready for the frogging. And if the photo looks crappy and badly-lit, that’s pretty much how I was feeling. *Sigh*