After months of on again, off again knitting, the socks are done – almost six months to the day since I started. Of course, it’s summer now and ideally I shouldn’t be wearing them but, weather being what it is, I kept them on after taking the photo. We’re having an Off-Season in Canada’s capital.
A great revelation on why I have such trouble with knitting patterns came to me as I was pulling the works of art on my feet. It’s because they look like math equations with brackets and asterisks and coded abbreviations understood only by the knitterati cognoscenti.
I’m afraid of math. I have been since grade 9 when Mr. Edwards showed us how to do rapid long division. His plan was to move us swiftly through the boring stuff and get to the super-thrilling line equations with square roots ‘n’ stuff. Even as I write that, my chest starts to constrict and my mouth gets dry and I can’t swallow. I fell behind and never caught up
I’m a slow knitter. I’m a simple knitter. Yes, simple, dull, and straightforward. For me the satisfaction comes with seeing, touching, wearing a finished product. It doesn’t have to be a complicated thing. Nope. Just – “There. I made THAT with my own two hands.” Happiness. Something knitted is tangible evidence that I am a productive human being, unlike the kind of administrative work I do. Shit. There aren’t even filing cabinets any more that you can look into and pull out a brilliant letter you wrote on travel policy for volunteers back in 2010. No, it’s all stored virtually. As a neat freak, paperless storage makes me giggle with joy but at the end of the day it lacks substance. Knitting is proof I am productive.
I’m tickled pink and green and yellow and blue that the socks are done. Done. DONE! I considered sending them to my sister, the uber-sock knitter who sent me the yarn urging me to reconsider my vow to never again make another pair of socks . Nah. They’re testament to my determination. I overcame the equations. I deserve them.
At the end of yesterday’s stitch ‘n’ bitch session, I gave away the sock pattern book, neatly wound the left-over yarn into a ball, and said “Anybody want a free pattern book and yarn?” To my shock, they were snapped up right away. They heard me bitch for six months – they know what they’re in for.