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

July 19, 2005

You Call That a Boulder?

You know that famous scene in Crocodile Dundee when he's confronted by the muggers in New York. "You call that a knife? Now that's a knife." Well, yesterday I thought I was rolling a boulder up a hill for all eternity in working on my Psychedelic Squares afghan.

Then I worked on my Wool Peddlers Shawl. Now that's a boulder.

I've had a nagging sense of doubt about the lace portion of this shawl. I never felt like I was getting it right and was fudging a lot. I've ripped and reknit the first few rows several times. I put it aside. It had a bad juju. Yesterday I finally decided to pull the shawl out and work on it. It was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. I ripped back to the garter stitch portion and started again. And again. And again. And again. Are we getting the picture here? Anyway, I am scared to say out loud that I think that this time I've got it. But that's what I thought all the other times. Why should this time be any different?

In other banging-my-head-against-a-wall news, Molly and I decided to have a little zipper sewing party (her Ribby Cardi, my Sam). My machine is not working so we were going to use hers. I got to her house at 9:15.

We pinned and futzed with her machine for a while then realized she didn't have a zipper foot. I looked at her machine and thought that the zipper foot from my machine would work. We packed up and went over to my house. My foot didn't fit. We drove to Ballard to buy a foot. When the woman at the store showed it to us Molly realized that she did have one. So we went back home.

Click to see Molly recording the moment for her own blog.

We pinned, sewed, ripped, sewed, pinned, ripped, sewed. At last, at 12:45, it was the moment of truth. I unzipped my sweater and realized that I didn't to buy a separating zipper.

Son of a bitch!