A blog about my life, knitting, and other stuff.

October 4, 2004

As Promised

I said I'd give you photos. I'm giving your photos.

Here is Rogue. I'm now on row 33 of the hood. I was just writing to a friend this morning that I can't believe how quickly it's going and how far I still have to go. I underestimated the amount of knitting that goes into this hood. Like a sneaky shawl it just keeps getting bigger each row. But it's still deliciously addictive to knit. The pattern continues to be a marvel.



My camera is just so stinky I can't get a decent shot of the cabling. Here is my latest crappy attempt to capture the beauty of the hood.



I also took a photo of the lunchbag. It's a giant red sack. Plus the photo is taken at a funny angle which makes the bag look about a foot high when it's really 22". It's not even worth clicking.

Reading today reminded me of something that happened as I was leaving LA. I was working on my chartreuse shrug in the Burbank airport. A number of people commented on how pretty, how soft, "oh, I used to knit," etc. I was using my totebag from knitting camp for my carry on. I waited long after they started boarding to saunter over to the gate. But I didn't wait long enough. There was a very long back up of people out on the tarmac waiting to board. We were in a line that snaked back and forth and up a gangplank. As I stood in the baking Burbank sun I pulled out my shrug and kept on knitting. Then a woman in line behind me with her two teenaged daughters said sarcastically, trying to score points with the girls, "Oh, look. Don't you wish you could go to knittin camp?" [Note to woman waiting for plane: I was standing a foot away from you and I can hear. At least have the decency to whisper your rude comments.] Then we ended up being stuck in the plane waiting to take off for over an hour. With no air conditioning. In Burbank. So I just kept knitting. Once I was in my seat I pulled out my sweetie, Rogue, and got cranking. One of these girls was waiting in the aisle and I found her hovering over me mesmerized by my knitting. I wanted to shout, "Knitting camp doesn't seem so dumb now, huh?" but I felt it would somehow sound undignified. So I did what my New York upbringing has taught me to do. I pretended she didn't exist, and enjoyed my knitting.

P.S. I'm still having trouble acessing my server. Rebecca at Purlygirls suggested I try Flickr. So far so good.