We’re starting to see the odd teaser for Season Three (autumn) of 2019. It’s surprisingly cool here this morning, and I’m wearing an actual jumper. Confession: I bought rather than knitted it, and one of the twinnage would like me to make him one, but I’m puzzled by what the stitch might be. Here’s the front (left) and reverse (right). Any thoughts please, wise yarn-lovers?
I’d love to oblige him by making one, especially as I fear we’re reaching the end of the Mum-is-cool years, and fast approaching the Mum-is-the-most-embarrassing-human-alive years of the boys’ childhood.
The sun is out, but it somehow feels like autumn-in-waiting, this final week before the schools go back. The flowers are throwing out a final bloom or two, and sun-loving insects are having a last buzz round the garden before the temperature drops. The twinnage are on the lawn pretending to be rival mongooses (mongeese?), some dragonflies are brawling in the airspace above the pond, but change is definitely in the air, and nature knows it. (By the way, Juniper the young blackbird has been around again, but not when I’ve had a camera in my hand.)
There’s been knitting, of course. I’m conscious that I’m showing you glimpses of things without telling you much or providing the patterns as yet. There are new designs and patterns coming, quite a few of them, but at the risk of sounding like, well, a blogger, I can’t say much just now. (I know, I know. I’m rolling my eyes at me, too.)
Designing is an adventure in possibilities, but there are days – so many days – that end with considerably less than knitting than I had at the start. I get carried away by some over-complicated ambitious idea, then fall back to earth with a bump when I realize that it won’t work because those little fancy stitches will mess up the gauge, or you can see the floats through those yarnover holes, or that skirts don’t actually have sleeves. *sigh*
When it goes well and your vision becomes a better-than-you’d-dared-hope reality, it’s the best feeling. (Well, maybe the second best feeling. The very best feeling is when the twinnage turn their clothes the right way round before putting them in the laundry basket without being asked, but that’s a scenario that exists more in my imagination than in life, so we should probably ignore it.)
It’s taken a long ol’ time to learn that stopping and ripping back isn’t failure; it’s an inevitable part of the design process that brings a worthwhile finished creation one step closer. And these days, when I tell myself that fact, I’m able to believe it at least 43.6% of the time.
That said, I’d still quite like to stamp my feet and complain about the unfairness of it all, and have a good SULK (because that’ll sort the problem out, right?)
But at least the sun is shining – albeit a little more weakly than before – the garden is blooming, and on some days, there’s a definite net gain in the quantity of knitting produced. 🙂
Happy yarnery, my fine, fibrous, friends.