today i am pottling to the library with high hopes of killing 2 birds with 1 stone. not literally i might add, no sirree, i would not, could not ever do such a thing. plus our library is right next to the police station and i am quite sure they would have me arrested and banged up in jail in no time at all if they caught me throwing stones at little innocent birdies outside the library! however in a non literal way i hope the old 2 birds with 1 stone thing will work nicely.
for you see, my old knitting cogs must turn again! turn again dick wittington, turn again. (is that right, did he have to? i can't recall why he was turning again or for what reason, all i know is as i tippity type 'turn again', old dick wittington springs to mind and i have got dick and his 'turn again' ways, echoing in my ears)
right, can we just move on swiftly as this is not going where it is supposed to be going. first i have hurting (ney slaying little birdies) and next i am turning again with dick and i just don't want to, i just want to be knitting, albeit, slowly, but that is where i wish to be.
"so get on with it and be there, Tif" you cry
"quite right" say i
did i mention i have only gone and got myself a job? ummm, not sure i did, mention it, that is. well it just goes to show, where there is a will there is a way. after 22 years of staying home to be a mother and a crafter i am venturing into unknown territory and joining the work force out of the home. i will tell more in a little while for there is lots to tell. however my need to dust off my rusty dusty knitting cogs has something to do with my new spiffy 'i can't believe they actually gave me the job' job.
so as i poured and pondered over my old Rowan Yarn looky books, i noted their patterns and wordings are a mystery to me today just as they were many a year ago at the height of my knitting mania.
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| i lust after this tank top (vest) even years on from first seeing it, i believe, i believe if i could reach the knitting sky i could indeed make this lovely sweetie (the little voice inside my head just fell over from laughing and mocking, now that isn't very nice is it) |
i sighed, wondering if i will ever be handed thee Rowan golden key which unlocks the thee Rowan door and when the door opens, a chorus of angels (in lovely fair-isle tank tops) will sing and light will shine down upon me and suddenly, when i look at the words, all will become clear and glorious...
well whilst i was 'a wondering' how old i will be when that finally happens (if at all), I happened upon the idea of doing little samplers of stitches and patterns. i told myself, baby knitting steps Tif, do not think after 6 years of 'non-knitting' you can just waltz right in and up to your Rowan Yarn knitting patterns and they will forgive you your dalliance with crocheting. also do remember who you are, you are the queen of squares and rectangles, they love you and you love them and where better to start then with a little happy rectangle of straight forward knitting in a peachy pink colour which makes your crafty heart and creative eye sing loud and proud.
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| peachy pink, safe rectangles, no tank top (vest) insight, "every things gonna be alright now" singing loud and proud... |
once i was back in my 'comfortable crafting zone of rectangles and squares' an epiphany came to me, one which led to 2 birds and 1 stone... might i add, at this point i did hear a quiet 'hallelujah' which made up for my lack of Rowan Yarn angels earlier.
how magnificent and marvelous would it be, to take my samples of eeking out the rusty dusty knitting skills and turn them into a 'how-to' for an article in a most peachy magazine which is due next month. "oh yes indeedy" i cried out to my constant canine companions at 7:26 am this morn to be precise. "darn, this old girl has still got what it takes, a brilliantly brilliant cunning plan, hatched and matched (no idea what that is) all before 7:30am on a monday morn"!
footynote: please note, no birdies, little critters, spiders, flies, or little green plants were hurt in the making of this blog post despite what some may be thinking