Blog prompt: Describe a day in the life of a project that you have made, or are in the process of making.
I got up this morning, intending to write a blog post about my current project, when I found the following already in the draft folder. I’ve added a few notes in self-defense. They’re in italicized brackets. Cheeky socks.
A day in the life, she says. I’ll give her a day in the life.
I sat in her stash for heaven knows how long. [You’ve been here since December 2011, not nearly as long as some other stashed yarn.] I saw yarn which was here before me go out. I expected that. But I also saw yarn which came in after me go out. That hurt. I got my hopes up several times when I was taken out and perched by the computer while she searched for patterns. But my hopes were dashed time after time when I was put back into the basket. Without any lotion even.
Sorry. Movie reference. Yes, we unloved skeins of yarn watch movies when no one is around. She has a lot of unloved skeins of yarn. We watch a lot of movies.
[This is news to me. But it might explain some of the odd things in our Netflix Instant Queue. And for the record, I have no unloved skeins of yarn, just stash that hasn’t met the right pattern. For Pete’s sake, I wouldn’t have spent all that money on you if I didn’t love you!]
But one day she pulled me out, draped me around the swift, and wound me into a cake. At last! I can achieve my purpose! It turns out she had finally convinced her husband to allow her to make him some socks, and I was the perfect choice for those socks, so she cast me on some DPNS, and we were off to the races.
But, despite being on my way to fulfilling my destiny, all was not well. I struggled with the pattern she chose. I mean, I tried my best to make it work, but I wasn’t happy and, judging by the language I heard, she wasn’t happy either. I breathed a sigh of relief when she took me off the needles, relieved me of the burden of those awful stitches, and cast me on again, this time in an easy-going 3×1 rib that worked out just right for the short lengths of color in my colorway. [You think you breathed a sigh of relief? That first pattern gave me hand cramps.]
Then something odd happened. After several inches of cuff, the DPNs with which I had been getting along so well were replaced, one by one, with a slightly smaller set. This was not in my game plan! Didn’t she know this was going to mess with my pooling pattern? And sure enough, instead of the tidy ladder-rung type placement of my various colors, a swirling pattern developed. Thank heavens she didn’t mess with the 3×1 rib, but that swirl? I mean, they’re my colors, they’re part of me, and I love them regardless, but I’m not so sure I like this.
We definitely don’t like it. We 1-1/2s were doing so well with you, and then she replaced us with a size 1 set! The nerve!
[Oh, and now the needles chime in, too. *sigh* You’ll both get over it. Really.]
We persevered several more inches down the cuff and then, AND THEN, what did she do? She put us away! Stuffed us right down in the bottom of a project bag while she worked on birthday presents, and Christmas presents, and a cardigan for herself, and a baby blanket, then another cardigan for herself (which she abandoned) [Now wait just a goldarn minute…], and now another blanket. Oh, we’re just socks for her husband, we’re not important.
Hmph. We’ll just see about that.
[Are you threatening me? Seriously, are you threatening me? Because I can rip you out and stuff you back in a basket, you know. Just try “fulfilling your destiny” if that happens.]