I've made a few pairs of 'gift socks' for assorted relatives ... a teddy bear or two and a couple of pairs of fingerless gloves. Nice 'easy peasy just in case I need a present', or 'OMG I need a present that I can knit in an evening or two' projects that aren't exactly what one would call Alzheimers-preventing-sudoko-for-knitters patterns.
But it's summer...so...yeah...no sweat...
Because knitting in the summer can be a sweat inducing thing.
I call my current 'on the sticks' piece a hodge-podge-palooza of leftovers. I could spin this into an 'I'm being so environmental and eco-friendly' story. But seriously: How many bits and pieces, end of roll, lovely sock yarn do you have in your stash? I have oodles and squoodles. Hence my latest, mostly brainless knitting endeavour of which I am quite proud: I will soon be ready to recover the IKEA throw pillow in the playroom.
Yes. I know. Excitement City.
You're panting just hearing about it.
Ha!
Me too.
Not.
But it is pretty.
It was inspired by all the butterflies that have been swarming around me in recent weeks. (Is that symbolic, I wonder?) Maybe I smell like milkweed. Not sure. But the colour-ways I chose are based on my newly acquired butterfly friends.
Regardless of my location, they have been fluttering around. Much friendlier than the August Wasps who also find me irresistible.
But after the past couple of days, I think the 'knitting gods' are demanding I up my game a little. I believe the challenge of a complicated sock pattern is called for: and soon. I have been happily floating through my summer daze with my low-neuron-engagement knitting. But last week things went completely off the charts absurd. Clearly, the powers that be felt I needed a jolt. I texted my experience(s) to a friend via a Facebook chat one evening and having just looked it over, if I hadn't experienced the bizarre farce myself I would swear the person who wrote my texts was on a pharmaceutical cocktail of Timothy Leary proportions.
Walked into work and got accosted by a street person... which isn't weird in itself, because, I get approached by various 'characters' every day -- I live and work and wander around downtown Toronto -- this is nothing new. HOWEVER... this dude was over the top. Normally I smile, am respectful of their various 'situations'.... but this guy jumped out of nowhere, right in front of me and started verbally abusing me... yelling... circling me... not letting me walk down the sidewalk... like I said... over the top ... Then a couple of 20-something year old business suited guys stop and one asked me "Are you okay Ma'am?" The first thing that hit my grey matter was: 'since when did I become a Ma'am?' ... I rolled my eyes and said - 'I got this' (don't ask me why -- I just knew I did.) And I stared right into the eyes of Mr. Wacky Nutbar and said in a very strong tone: "ARE YOU QUITE FINISHED? NOW BE QUIET AND GET OUT OF MY WAY" Shock and awe, baby -- totally worked. One of the 20-something year old young men smiled with an "Oh - yeah - she's using her mom voice"... anyhow, I got to the office a couple of minutes later and that's when the adrenaline OMG moment hit me. What the hell? AND THEN I FELT BAD... I shouldn't have yelled at him.. but you know what? He pissed me off.... #1 Don't accost me #2 Never accost me before I've had my morning coffee... that's a really important thing. Seriously. He was an inch away from my face yelling, screaming and when he started preventing me from walking passing... my lack of caffeine... well... yeah you know.... it kind of took me over. Mind you, it was good to know that chivalry still exists. Some young men stopped to try and assist... I guess I reminded them of their mothers. So the next day... I decided I had a choice... avoid the same street/walk into work or walk the same path. I decided that clearly I HAD TO walk the same way in -- otherwise I might be afraid to ever do it again...The dude was not there and I felt better. But as I turned the corner, some other guy comes right up beside me and starts walking stride and stride with me... no clue who or what he is about then he whips a harmonica out of his pocket and starts playing it to me.... like for 2 blocks.... inches away from my face -- what the hell? when I thought about it later, I started to laugh so hard I almost peed my pants, because the saddest part of it all was that he was a HORRIBLE harmonica player. Then that same day, on the walk home, another guy slowed down on his bike and started riding along side me, singing (on the top of his lungs) some Italian Opera solo (alas, once again, only passable as a vocalist). So, the next day, on the walk into work I start thinking: Maybe I should hang a sign around my neck: WARNING: I HAVEN'T HAD COFFEE YET... PISS ME OFF AND I MIGHT JUST CLOCK YOU. But no worries... my two lurkers are nowhere to be seen. But then I turn onto the street where my office sits and guess what? Yet, another one of the 'local flavour characters' tries to engage me. I think what happened next can be chalked up as 'Rebel Knitter has finally mastered the DON'T EVEN death glare". Because it was an immediate stand-down moment for the dude. Immediate.Now, seriously. Can you blame me for finishing off my days with Brie, Baguette, and Ben and Jerry's. Also look for a mind-bending project from me soon. Bye-bye Brain Candy Knits, hello Brain Busting Lacy 3D magic. It's my penance for blissful, low-brow crafting.
UPDATE: SHE BE DONE. ..
