Ahhhh, the Ravelympics. Trying to attain something that is a challenge, through hard work, determination, discipline, perseverance, and all the other sports-analogy words I can come up with.

I practiced with a much heavier wool. I swatched. I gagued. I wound. I was ready!

I was on my way to Pennsylvania with my best buds for our annual girls weekend away, and as we were finishing up dinner at a diner (and a really good diner, too) my friend casually mentioned “It’s three minutes to nine.”

I shrieked! She tossed me the keys and I sprinted out to the parking lot, pulled out the yarn and needles, and prepared to cast on. Just as I was about to start, my daughter texted me. Aaaagh! Nooooo! Not an emergency now!!!!! Here’s her text:

“Are you ready?”

Yikes! Answer her fast, fingers fumbling. Did I mention it was 17 degrees outside? And I didn’t turn the car on? Hit send, pick up needles. And…….go!

“Cast on 11 stitches……”

So far, so good. Wow. This yarn really is thin. Whoops! Did I drop a stitch already?

Meantime, my friends are back in the car, and thank goodness the heat is on. But what’s this? I can’t leave the light on in the back? What do you mean it interferes with your driving? It’s just a little light! Oh, come on, those truck drivers aren’t scary, you can see fine….. okay, fine, whatever. Sheesh.

Do you understand the gravity of the situation? Everybody in the world is knitting except me!

Over the course of the evening and the next morning, I manage to get the border done.

“Pick up 78 stitches…….”

Oh. Good. Heavens. I need a magnifying glass to see these stitches to pick them up! I hunch over them, counting. Counting. Counting again. I let out a whoop! “I DID IT!!!” (My friends just look at me weird. Yeah, they’re not knitters.)

After that, it was downhill faster than Lindsay Vonn, and without the chic and stylish skiwear to go with it. I have never ripped out lace before. It is unfreakingbelievably hard to do, and my hands were shaking which resulted in dropping stitches. Do you know how hard it is to pick up a stitch, particularly if you’re not sure if it was a YO or a BOO BOO? Do you know that it’s really not easy to “read” your knitting when every other row is something different? Do you know I’m really good at this whining?

Here’s where I am so far:

pay no attention to that hole. It's a lace hole. I swear.

This is supposed to be a stole. I’m thinking it’s going to be a really short scarf. Maybe even a doily. But I have this week to work on it…. and I swear I’m not going anywhere except work and home. I’m going to finish this, if it’s the last thing I do, dag nab it. And I’ll never be hungry again, nor any of my folk……… (cue “Gone with the Wind” score).

In other news, here’s the socks I made Maggie for Christmas:

the obligatory ballerina in front of the oven pose.

It’s a funny thing about getting the knitting groove back. Seems if you sit down and knit, knitting actually gets done. And if I don’t say “What? I’m only on row 7?” and instead say “Wow! I’m already on row 7!” it makes a big difference.

And just to mix things up a bit, I gave up complaining for Lent. And chocolate.

Help.

I would show you the socks I made Karen, but she and her feet are back in Maryland, so no photo. Here are the socks I made myself after the Christmas knitting, and I absolutely LOVE the pattern! So much so that I cast on another solid color as soon as I finished these, but the Olympics are now putting them in a holding pattern. Pattern is simple Skype socks and is free on Ravelry.

looks like my foot is swimming in caramel.

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