Why do "those" days happen? Knitting is an art that makes order out of chaos (when we do it right), so are free-range agents of chaos attracted to it just to make trouble? Do my tiny efforts to make something tidy out of shapeless disorder (i.e., the interior of my knitting bag) automatically draw evil faeries of loosening and messiness to me? It sure seems like it today.
Sat down with the knitted tie project after breakfast, to do a half-hour's worth of rounds while the laundry cycled - was promptly pounced on by Harry the Evil Minion of Disaster, who grabbed my ball of yarn and ran. In a triumph of enthusiasm over common sense, he ran right off the edge of the couch with it. Yes, he's a bird and yes, he can fly - but not carrying a ball of yarn that weighs half as much as he does. (It turns out that the air speed of a laden parrot is fairly brisk, but straight down.) By the time I retrieved the two of them from under the table, he was wrapped in yarn and the yarn was full of dust bunnies, toast crumbs and tiny little feathers ... re-winding yarn is not nearly as much fun as knitting it.
I didn't enjoy the reminder that I really need to vacuum, either.
Sat down after grocery errands to do a few inches on the lace scarf. I evidently had a brain aneurysm and didn't notice, until I realized I had 1) miscounted the pattern rows and inserted the wrong lace panel and 2) had been knitting a row that was supposed to be purled. When I began to tear it out, I fumbled the piece and the slippery yarn (it's a corn yarn, very silky) literally fell off the needles (which are holly wood, also very slippery). Spent quite some time figuring out where I was, backtracking, and repairing the damage before I could even think of adding any rows at all. Oh, and fighting off Harry, who - undiscouraged - was trying to bite my beautiful sea-foam white holly wood needles!
I'm afraid to work on the cable sweater. I've been successfully reducing a complicated pattern to form the sleeve holes, but the way things are going today, God knows what I'd do to it. All that lovely bas-relief of cables, twists, moss stitch and seed stitch would probably mutate into a frieze of the little square bug-critters from Space Invaders.
The Uncertainty Principle has its beady eyes fixed on me. Chaos is lurking in the shadows. All my projects are poised on the fatal edge of entropy.
There's only one thing to do:
Start a new project right now.
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Some days are like that! I think *not* touching the cable sweater was a very wise idea.
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