There isn't much in knitting that scares me. I can k3togtbl, I can cut a steek whilst stone-cold sober, and I laugh in the face of complex colourwork (unless it's intarsia, in which case I sigh and then untangle all 76 bobbins for the eleventy millionth time). But today, I'm anxious. You see, I've finished the book-blanket that I designed and made for my dear friend Mary, and yesterday I wrapped it up and took it to the Post Office. Quick summary in case you missed the original post: Mary has Continue Reading