With the weekend’s adventures and ordeals successfully behind me, I feel like a new woman. There were several unexpected stops along the way that struck me as auspicious signs:
My new shoes arrived. Don’t be fooled – I didn’t actually get different shoes – just a new pair of my everyday loafers, the Franco Sarto Bocca. When I say everyday, I mean every day. I would wear jeans, flip-flops and a white t-shirt for my entire life if I could, but since I have to dress up a bit for work and since you get funny looks if you wear the exact same outfit every day, I try to at least keep the shoe part simple. I don’t remember when I got my first pair of Boccas, but I have owned at least five pairs. My friend Mrs. J and I are in agreement about this particular shoe: it’s worth it to stick with something that works! Although glamorous (who devotes about half her closet to shoes that live in their original boxes!) is horrified that I wear the same “ugly” shoes to work every day, I took it as a good sign that my new shoes arrived just before Saturday. I was turning a corner, from this
Yup, a day makes a big difference.
On Saturday morning, feeling all shiny and new but also pretty terrified as I prepared for my all-afternoon ordeal, I got a call from adorable, all the way in Europe, homesick and blue. She and her mom have been traveling since early June, so it’s no wonder she’s running out of steam. We started doing long-distance facial yoga (think long face, lemon face, lion face . . . grrr!) and before I knew it we were both laughing. My stress dissipated for the half hour we talked and I felt newly invigorated. Right before I left, I sat on the couch with The Baron for about a half hour, and he stroked my hair and massaged my hands as I reviewed last-minute details. And then, before I knew it, hours flew by and I was done. It went pretty well I think.
Sadly, my #2 pencil crippled me slightly. The first three fingers of my right hand refused at first to unclench, my wrist couldn’t bend properly without a ribbon of pain running up my forearm, and my elbow felt like I’d been smashed in the funny-bone with a giant dictionary. Suffice it to say that I didn’t do much knitting on Saturday night. By Sunday I was feeling better, but we had friends over for a celebratory pancake breakfast – The Baron made sausages on the grill, I stayed inside and made chocolate-chip and blueberry pancakes to order for glamorous, Little Miss Law, and a few other friends. Then we all spent mid-day sitting out by the pool. Paradise. By the time I finally got to the Frost Flowers & Leaves shawl, it was almost evening.
You know in Monopoly, when you get the card that says “bank error in your favor,” and you get to collect free money? Even though it’s not even real cash, there’s a shiver that runs through me every time I get that card, and anytime I get something for nothing. In this case, the unexpected surprise is a result of my horribly misreading the Frost Flowers & Leaves pattern. Instead of four repeats of chart three, the pattern only calls for one. What this means: I have ONLY three more rows to go before I am FINISHED with the shawl body. Of course, I still have to do the edging, and based on my elaborate calculations for size, perhaps I should rip back to chart two and do another repeat. And perhaps I will. But I’ve seen lots of comments on the Yahoo! Groups FF&L board, blogs and Ravelry about how much Zephyr will stretch in blocking and how big the FF&L is with all seven repeats of chart two. I’ve thought about doing a mini-blocking to check the size, but I don’t want to have to take everything off the needles and then put it all back on again, so I think I’ll just dive in. I’m going to practice the edging tonight and hopefully by the end of the week I’ll be happily cranking away on the final stage of the shawl.
The Baron and I have been enjoying a BBC show about bugs. More on that later, but everyone knows how an ugly caterpillar becomes a beautiful butterfly, right? Well, here’s my caterpillar:
And here’s a whisper of how beautiful it will be when it becomes a butterfly: