Sunday mornings are wonderful in my flat. (Actually the whole of Sunday is usually pretty darn good). We almost never have to set an alarm. We wake up when we wake up and we lounge around in bed reading, or snuggling, and chatting, and generally dragging out the morning for as long as we can before the overwhelming need for food and coffee kicks in and forces us into the kitchen. Actually, my husband heads into the kitchen and I curl up on the sofa and knit while he brings me coffee and breakfast. It works well. He enjoys cooking breakfast, which I really don’t enjoy doing at all and I need a little longer to have my brain working well enough be considered active. We both love Sundays.
This past Sunday while we were snuggled up and debating if the need for coffee had reached the point of forcing us out from under our blankets, I was thinking about what project I would pick up and trying to tackle and realized that NOTHING in my WIP basket was holding any real interest for me at that moment. When you consider how many WIPS I have, this makes no sense. I decided at that point that clearly the time had come for caffeine and we headed out to the living room.
I sat myself down and then the strangest thing happened. Instead of reaching into the basket under the coffee table where pretty much all of my WIPS live, in a generally futile attempt at keeping my knitting from overtaking every corner of the flat, I reached into the other basket. The one that holds my knitting accessories, socks that need to be darned, two projects that need to be frogged and the yarn reclaimed, and two projects that have clearly reached Hibernation status and earned a good long time in the naughty knitting basket. I reached into that basket and woke up a project from an almost three year slumber.
Then I stared at it for a few seconds before pulling it out of the project bag, and the realization that this was what I wanted to be knitting sunk in. I will admit, at that moment I was slightly befuddled by this turn of events. I remembered why it got tossed aside in the first place. I was at the thumb hole. The dreaded terrible thumb hole that had caused my more experienced knitter friends to complain heartily, and a few newer knitters to call me asking me to explain how to make the thumb hole to them, and me not being able to answer them because three years ago I had no clue how to make this happen. That thumb hole. It’s famous. (Just to point out, when the kits first came out back in 2011, we all bought them. I mean every knitter in the city bought one. It was crazy.) And that’s where I was in the pattern.
About this time my cup of coffee had magically appeared in front of me. (Okay fine – I know it didn’t magically appear. But any cup of morning coffee that appears in front of me without me having to go and retrieve it myself is downright magical.) And with the coffee cup in one hand and the chart in the other and the yarn and needles in my lap, I took that ever important first sip of my coffee and I thought, is that it? Really? By the second mouthful a few moments later I knew that I had this pattern sorted out and that this really was what I wanted to be knitting. And so I did. I started knitting and even though I am no where close to being finished yet, I’ve made more progress on it in two days than in the last three years. In fact even as I am typing here, I sort of wish I was over there knitting.
The pattern is FiddleHead Mittens and the colours are a kit from Tanis Fibre Arts. I am a little concerned about my tension, but have been reminded to twist my yarn behind the stitches every so often and I am hoping that will help. The outer shells will also have a lovely warm bath before adding the liners and I am hoping that in the end, they will be relatively flat. And I am really excited to be working on these again and soon there may be a pair of mitts.