If you haven't read Trish's reply to MY reply in yesterday's comments, you should. When I found them in my mailbox this morning I snarfed tea out my nose. (Snarf: verb. To expel liquid out your nose while drinking and laughing at the same time.) She also has some comments to make over on her own blog. Apparently I am supposed to be psychic knitter and automatically know what she needs to know... I'm going to start reading 'what's a _____?' as 'how would you do a _____?' Maybe that'll cover my ass. I can't have her taking the wrong side in the upcoming cat and baby wars.
I take exception to the description of 'going Mel Gibson' on her, though. (Over at her blog.) I was NOT drunk (mighta been a little whacked out on medication, but hey, IT WAS PERSCRIPTION), and I did NOT make any anti-Semitic remarks. (Is "Hey, dude, got some good kosher cooking? I haven't had any since Aunt Sue died." an anti-Semitic remark? 'Cause that's about as close as I get.) I will not even BEGIN the film critique. (THE BATTLE OF STERLING BRIDGE HAD A BRIDGE IN IT, MEL, YOU PUTZ!) Plus I'm not a short little zealot with a Napoleon complex. Nyeah.
Though I might be crazy.
I killed the Blue Shimmer last night. Things weren't working out between us. It was a ritual homicide.
I was on my fourth try of the increase round (increase from 208 to 280, somehow evenly so there are no puckers), threw it against the wall a couple times, beat it on the coffee table using the yarn tail as a handle, and started jerking it back off the needle to unravel for try number five. (Well, the throwing and pounding and all had already BEGUN the remove-it-from-the-needle thing.)
That's when it got snagged on that bad join on the Susan Bates needle. Then I got a little snagged, figuratively speaking.
Then I got a knife.
It's never good to carry a knife nearby when knitting, and I keep one (a small pocket knife) in my knitting bag. Just another helpful tip over here at Samurai Knitter.
So when all was said and done the needle was in three pieces and the knitting was shredded and I threw it all away and went off and took a bath.
I came out of the bath, and the husbeast (who had witnessed the entire scene as it played out in the middle of the living room) said "Do you feel any better?" and I said "No." and that was the last he spoke to me last night. Smart man.
Anyway. I'd been thinking that it needed to be done on larger needles (seriously) so I'm going to do the color on the size twos and the solid blue on size ones. (Seriously. I had been thinking this. there wasn't enough drape in the fabric; the more I knit, the stiffer it got.) Seriously.
The good news is, because I was a swatching fool, I've already got all the swatching done. I just need to measure it out. And there are no bits on me that need super-glued shut; I wasn't THAT far over the edge.
The bad news is, I have to do all that 'increase by 33% to a multiple of 3' math over again. I suppose that's the punishment for getting out the damn knife. Though the numbers SHOULD be smaller.
I've been a little stressed, lately.
Anyway, I guess this is a good time to show some provisional cast-ons. It'll have to wait 'til the husbeast gets home to take photos, though.