I had to buy another knitting book. IT ISN'T MY FAULT! It's THE YARN HARLOT'S FAULT!!!!
Do you see that sweater? Do you? Do you see that adorable little sweater?! Oh my ever-living Dawg. Those wee little blooms! That cute little seed stitch (which, by the way, I loathe doing) (but do a lot of because it makes a texture that teething babies love to chew on – it makes a great border for a blankie for just that reason). It was so cute, I just had to go look at the book.
And then there was this little dress in that book, too. And it's just so adorable I can't stand it. And then I go and look at the other Dale of Norway books and gol durn it all to heck – they're just so cuuuuuute. And adorable. And one of them has Just Exactly the kind of little bunting pattern I've been looking for (in vain). Plus also they have a bunch of kids patterns I think (erroneously) that my own children might wear. Well. Captain Adventure will wear them, because he has no choice right now.
I blame Stephanie personally for the $40 I just charged at that store. I would not have done it if she hadn't posted pictures.
Oh. I finished the blanket, including the crocheted border. I'm going to say this right now: I stink at crochet. Really. I can't crochet for beans. But I womaned my way through it and it's there and it looks…um. Mostly OK. I should have been a little braver I suspect, gone off the pattern and done maybe some double chains or something; but knowing about as much about crochet as I do about the Taiwanese stock market (do they even have a stock market?), I held fast to the pattern. I got through it alive. But with a new blister on my index finger. I can knit all day and night – I already have my knitting calluses, thank you very much. But crochet…well. That's like cavalierly taking up bicycling on the theory that hey – you're already an avid hiker, you're impervious to foot pain. Then you discover that biking rubs you in a whole new painful kind of way.
And I'm about ¾ of the way through another little preemie sweaters (knitting for preemies is the knitting equivalent of instant gratification), and just got the yarn in for three more blankies…um. Yes. About that. See, the problem is…it wasn't my fault!...it was Joanne Crafts. Because they sent me this cursed email about 'free shipping' and 'on sale' and the next thing you know…I've slapped down $25 for three blankie's (and a few hats) (and possibly the odd sweater or two) worth of machine-wash baby yarn. Free shipping. Just for me (and a few hundred thousand other people foolish enough to give them their email addresses).
I would not have done that, had they not enabled me. Ergo, it is their fault. I cannot be held responsible for my lack of willpower under such conditions. It would be like if someone were to send me a pack of Benson & Hedges in the mail. It would not be my fault if I broke down and smoked the whole thing in half an hour (and then was violently sick because it has been…hmm…fifteen years since I smoked last). Especially since I am rather nervous about Things right now. Foreclosures on the rise, people going broke all around me, stock market jittery, interest rates on the rise, MASS HYSTERIA!!!!!!
How I would be expected to not take up smoking again is beyond me.
Except, of course, that one cannot smoke and knit baby things. Especially for delicate little preemies, who have enough to struggle with as it is, without my adding toxic substances to their wee little blankies.
You see how good babies are for me? My own babies have forced me to start taking my health seriously because they need me (and plus I now have 'what's next' syndrome and can't stand the thought of missing anything from kindergarten graduation to my first grandchild), and even other people's babies can keep me away from cigarettes on the theory that I might hurt the baby by second-hand smoke residue.
I think that is possibly the wildest digression I have ever written.
I'd…better stop now. Before I hurt myself. Besides, I've got another twenty minutes left on this lunch hour, which should be enough to finish the back of that little blue sweater...
Trash Compactor Party
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