Where are my laurels?

8 February 2006

I need to rest.

The photo I took of my french knitting last night has made it into Flickr’s “interestingness” pages, apparently peaking at #1. It’s very difficult trying to predict what might capture someone’s imagination. I just wanted to change Dreamdust’s header, so I took a couple of shots of the knitting … and all of a sudden, fame and fortune beckon.

The knitting itself is a long term project; I started it maybe two years ago. At first I was just making a long, pointless thing, but then I started winding it round and stitching it in order to make a little rug. It’s the Laura Ingalls Wilder within me, you see. I liked the idea that maybe I could make a rug that, one day, I would put down on the floor in my own house, telling people I made it in my early 20s.

The trouble is, although I still have a good bit of this rainbow-coloured wool left, by no stretch of the imagination will it be enough to make anything the size of a rug. Some kind of mat maybe, but I don’t know what this mat would be for. Keeping my goat warm maybe. That’s not a euphemism. The wool is no longer produced in this colour, so I’m a bit screwed. I’ll have to just make my mat and then buy a big load of new wool in order to get the rug I want. I love buying wool. The colours, the softness, it’s all just too exciting.

Sitting somewhere and doing the knitting is quite therapeutic, but I just wish I could do I without having to keep my eyes fixed on it. The Laura Ingalls Wilder in me wants to sit in her chair and knit while doing other things – like watching TV. Laura is very excited about the TV; usually she’s stuck in a cold cabin, grinding wheat in the coffee mill and waiting for the Christmas barrel.

French knitting