I may not have hordes of suitors lined up outside my door (probably discouraged by my husband, 2 year old daughter and 8 months of pregnancy), but I certainly felt like Penelope this weekend.
Stress was high this weekend. My dissertation has to be done in less than 4 weeks, I've been having Braxton Hicks contractions with increasing frequency, the water heater in our building is out for a week and my daughter was running a fever. When I looked for solace in my knitting bag, this is what I found:
1. 4 inches of baby surprise jacket in knit picks ShineSport Cloud, complete with two dropped stitches in the decrease rows. While I love the ShineSport, it was already beginning to feel heavy and I wasn't wild about cotton in garter stitch. So, I frogged it.
2. My husband's endless sock in knit picks Memories on size 1 needles. Plain stockinette in size 1. That's 2.25 mm. Not as small as a synapse, but still not big enough to make me feel like I was making progress on something in my life. But, it doesn't have any dropped stitches and I've successfully navigated the heel, so its life was spared.
3. My snowdrop shawl. I thought this would certainly help take my mind off of everything. I had 30+ rows done, and it was gorgeous. Until I started looking closely. Apparently, when I'm nearing the end of a row, I get so excited about almost being done that I forget the last yo. I managed to salvage the last 2 or so inches, and a bit of my pride.
All in all, I frogged more than I knit this weekend. Penelope would have been very proud, indeed (yes, I know she was a weaver, but the spirit is there).
I dug around in my stash and patterns as much as time and energy allowed, but couldn't find anything compelling. In the end? I spun more yarn and placed another yarn order. If I have more yarn, I'll definitely have something to knit next time this happens.