Dear Knitting Fates

A moment of your time, if you please.

I would like you to know - I am a nice person. I eat my vegetables, weed my flower beds, keep a clean-ish house, am nice to my mother, pay my bills on time (mostly) and volunteer. Really, truly, I'm nice. People even like me.

I started this shawl in plenty of time. I really did. I had 32 weeks. Well, 30 by the time you figured in shipping. I bought good quality wool. Even if it is like knitting with dental floss. And the mum? She is eminently deserving. According to all the things that govern the knitting world, this project should have worked extremely well.

I tried not to take it personally, when I couldn't make the Yarn Harlot's shawl pattern work for me. Honest. I reminded myself that Stephanie Pearl-McPhee is a darn talented knitter. (Steeks!) She can do thing's that I can only dream of, truly. Yea, I bow at her feet, I do. I forgave my inability to count to 5 (or was it 8?)

I did not cry, when in the middle of a lace knitting class, my shawl turned into a snarly, knotty mess, and I had no idea where I was, in spite of stitch markers and post-it notes and highlighting. I accepted that this shawl was not destined to be mine to knit. (Although, I would like you to know, dear Fate, the knitting store women had thought I was an intelligent person, up to this point.). And Steph, I'm really sorry for the things I might have said about your pattern. Honest. Come to Edmonton, and I'll buy you a beer. Or, a lot of beer.

Indeed, I accepted that I should pick another pattern. And when that pattern didn't work out, I picked a 3rd pattern. And that didn't work out (apparently, counting to three is also a problem), and my size 5 knitting needle ran away from me, and I accepted that I was going to have to do something, because the mum, she wasn't getting any less pregnant.

Now, you listen to me, Knitting Fates. I have purchased a pattern. The pattern is not hard. I have purchased $16 knitting needles from Addi. I mean it knitting fates. This time, the shawl will work. I have hit the wall. The mother is really quite pregnant. I am running out of time. She is running out of time. And I am starting to take this VERY personally.

I am going to have a nap. And then, I am going to start this shawl/blanket/wrap. And it is going to work to wrap this wee babe in. I will knit from now until the end of the weekend. I will do nothing but knit. I will not be deterred. I will eat such food as I can scavenge from my pantry without cooking. I will watch bad television show re-runs. I mean it knitting fates, this time, I mean business.


(Now, dear readers, if you'll forgive me, I probably won't post much this weekend. Either the shawl/wrap/blanket will work, or I will have killed myself with $16 knitting needles)