I know you guys must think I'm the queen of the unfinished project around here. But seriously, we've had a lot going on lately.
Remember this? All in good time, my friends, all in good time.
But about Miss Josephine. Oh, Miss Josephine. I just dug back through the archives and I cast on for her way, way back in July. Well, I finished the back at least, but it was hard fought, that's for sure. And here comes the "not a lament" part. Because sometime during the life of my own poor Miss Jo, we were blindsided with woe over here in the little gray house. Enough woe to keep me up all night one night, knitting, knitting, knitting. A fair amount of crying was done, but there was a lot of knitting too. You could argue that Josephine saved my life that long night, and she surely did, but it raises a question for me. Do we knit our feelings into the work we do? Our joy and our sorrow too?
I finished the back and got about a quarter of the way through the front before I saw the mistake. I was almost relieved for an excuse. As pretty as she was, she was pretty easy to put down too. The mistake was not on the back part of the pattern, but I had poured a lot of sorrow into those stitches; had knit them through more than a tear or two. The bottom line was that I couldn't imagine wearing all of that heartache on my back. It was an easy pattern to memorize. I was so glad to have it just when I needed it, but somehow even in July, I knew I'd never wear it. And what a relief! When I saw an article on cnn.com about cutting your losses actually being a healthy thing, I knew that frogging the damn thing was all I needed to do. It didn't annihilate the midsummer sadness by any stretch, but it certainly managed to mitigate it just the tiniest bit.
One little snip was all it took, and wind, wind, wind, of the ball-winder, and I'm so relieved. On to better things. We worked through the sorrow. We're on the other side. Fall is nearing (as near as a dry eighty degrees can be) and a Somewhat Cowl is calling.