There must be another way...
NOW THAT SPRING seems to have really and truly sprung, even in the frigid Northeast where I live, I am struggling not just with finishing my knitting projects, but with getting them started, at all. I blame the garden.
This year, I’m trying, I really am, to make something of the space between my front porch and the street. When my mother decided to move in with us, she held out a carrot: She’d help me plant a garden, yet another skill set she possesses and I (utterly) lack. (My husband will gleefully tell strangers in the nursery that I have a black thumb. Now that’s true love.)
Indeed, bit by bit, row by row, a garden seems to be emerging. Where I once had just lawn, I have raised beds full of rich black earth. Packets of seed crowd my kitchen counter, and I even have tiny green seedlings unfurling toward grow lights from their wee pots in my basement. I am, it seems, finally going to grow something.
But what I am not going to do, now that my rare free time is spent pulling dandelions and misting seed trays, is actually get this cast on. Read that again, and let me be clear: I haven’t even finished casting on. Granted it’s 176 stitches wide, and the needles fine, the yarn even finer…but–nothing. Is it possible that I am destined to be just a foul-weather knitter? Have any of you achieved a balance between growing things in the earth and growing fabric on your needles? I’m looking for help, sisters. (And if you haven’t yet joined our Sister Project group on Ravelry, where this lovely shawl is our next knitalong…clearly, you’ve got plenty of time to join in!)
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I feel your pain.
I am knitting again for the first time since I was 7 years old (afraid I may have been better at it then…). I’m making a prayer shawl in support of LC/NA, a group working towards full glbt equality in my church denomination (the ELCA). Between that and trying to read “Infinite Jest”, a 950 pager, my garden is suffering horribly.
I find I have to rotate days set aside for two of the three activities (and have given up dusting altogether). It is a constant struggle.
Hi Deb–Welcome! Yes, reading is in my mix lately, too; I’ve rediscovered (a bit) of focus and have been reading at night, which is great, but it means I’m not watching crap TV and therefore knitting to absolve myself of feeling guilty about aforementioned TV. Good for you on the shawl, and your efforts for equality–I think knitting for a cause (instead of my usual selfish knitting!) counts double. Keep us posted on how it goes.
I am not buying “the garden made me *not* do it” excuse. Only *I* am allowed to invoke that one.
–The Management
I think I’m going to have nightmares about that photo (I didn’t know what Marion and Margaret were talking about…until now.) *shudder*
Okay, okay. Intervention time here. I cast on the thing on Sunday. Here’s how: You turn on something too terrifying to actually watch on TV. For me, this was Kenneth Branagh’s new Wallander, the Masterpeice Mystery three-part thingy that started last Sunday night, and since I couldn’t actually look at the many crime scenes (do choose something about a serial killer if at all possible; lots of ops to not watch), I instead looked down at my knitting and voila, by the end of the show I was several rows into it. You’re too high-brow, sister. Watch something unwatchable, and you’ll get those stitches on there.
(a month and a half later, Monika chimes in…)
Black thumb, eh? My 2 1/2 year old kept the 5 plants I bought at the nursery watered for 4 weeks (!) while I ignored them, until even he forgot for a couple of days… (shame, shame). And this from a woman who one spring sprouted 18 different varieties of antique and rare tomatoes in seed trays under grow lights in the basement (and ordered sweet pea seeds from England, and had a dozen different sunflowers, and DAvid Austen roses before they became really popular, not to mention Himalayan blue poppies… my gardening reach has always extended far past my commitment to weeding and watering…). Last night, the 5 1/2 year old, in an act of frustration and desperation, went out in the evening to finally, FINALLY, plant the seeds she bought months ago, and has been begging me to plant with her… (alas, my mother is not much of a gardener, so no help there)
Anyways, I second the suggestion of using Wallander… We “watched” 3 episodes last week, and it was perfect knitting “viewing” (I’ve read the books, and the episodes didn’t make sense to me; Branagh just isn’t Wallander; the hole series, while beautifully shot, is just not Swedish enough, and is really annoying to watch. We were in Ystad last summer while the BBC was filming, and were really looking forward to seeing the episodes too).
Actually, knitting projects such as this are a great way to promote marital harmony — you wind up actually encouraging your spouse to pick a program you would normally never want to watch (Pierre picks a lot of dull documentaries, or gory/scary things), which makes them happy, and earns you the right to pick something more to your liking later. Genius.
Monika–We started Wallander last week–fell asleep 20 minutes into the first episode…finished it a few nights later, and thought, “Ehhh. It’s ok. It’s no Prime Suspect.” I haven’t read the books, but even I could tell it wasn’t Swedish enough :-) That said, maybe it will work with knitting. That damn shawl is still unstarted, giving me the guilty, yarny eyeball from the bag next to my bed…
I found the third episode of Wallander was better than the first two, but still, I am now hunting down the Swedish Wallanders with English subtitles. There were 2 Swedish series made (and an Austrian episode); unfortunately the one I think is physically the best for Wallander has only a couple of episodes subtitled in English.
Why didn’t they try to make the series more authentic? They filmed it in Sweden, so why not actually show Swedish faces?!