A long time ago, I spent New Year's Eve with a man who was not my boyfriend, but became my boyfriend a few months later, to the dismay of my then-boyfriend. We spent the evening eating, drinking, and lying barely platonically on the couch, and I knitted. In the morning, I had to rip out all my knitting.
[The subtext of this post, which will be of interest only to Libby, is that I returned to Clapotis after several months absence and discovered that I somehow missed dropping a stitch, so I need to rip out several rows, because I am compulsive, which in Clapotis, well, let's just say it's causing another (temporal) gap in my knitting.]
[I think that S, who was then my ex-boyfriend and nowhere near my husband, stopped by that night too. And I have no idea why recent posts seem to be revisiting my love life ca. 1984.]
2 comments:
just from the title I knew this one was for me. It's knitting weather again, so I'm with you. (I just ripped out about a third of a scarf I had started because it just wasn't working out.)
The day before S was born I knitted one front half of a cardigan, let's say, the right half. When I got back to knitting, I found that I had two right halves!
Post a Comment