November 30, 2015 by New Capel Street: Fabric Division
….of poorly timed hand fails, falalalalalalaF*CK. (Oooh! Did WP just swearfilter me? Fuckittyfuckfuck? Nope, turns out it was me. Well done, Niamh.)
So like the girl says. I’d been getting loads done. I finished a dress (more on that in another entry!) which I could not be more stoked about. It’s floral, sleeved, it’s secret-pyjamasey, it’s fucking perfect. I finished this jumper: Cue the Smug Mirror Selfie and I’m slamming through a scrap yarn scarf that for garter stitch is strangely addictive. I think it’s the stripes. You take your little ball of scrap yarn, you make a stripe in a new colour, and suddenly you have no more of the yarn but you do have a new stripe. I’m starting to see why The Beekeeper’s Quilt captured the imaginations of so many knitters a couple of years ago.
And then the inevitable happened. I decided to make a scarf for my boyfriend, who I’m going to call Shutterbug for now, for Christmas. I had found the perfect yarn in my stash, I was looking up patterns. And then the pain kicked in. And the crunching. And my wrist looking impressively gnarled. My mood’s starting to wobble again too, but that’s normal for this time of year. With the wrist kicking off, though, I’m not getting anything bloody done outside of workfor at least the next two weeks, three if this flare turns out to be bad. I’ll try to get a tutorial out before Christmas for the Eblana gang, but it’s a maybe at this stage.
Now where was I? Fuck fuck fuck.
(It’s not all bad. I tackled the box of scrap. It’s still a box of scrap, but now most of it is sorted by colour, into clear Ziploc bags. Clearly, being able to see what I have will make using the things in cute little scrappy projects so much easier, right?)