Nay, I Say
As I was sitting on the couch last night, contemplating the fact that I had just incorrectly knit 6 rows containing 258 stitches each, I had an epiphany. It became very clear that my subconscious mind was foiling each knitting attempt because deep down, I DID NOT WANT TO KNIT THE COCKAROACHA SWEATER.
I know, I know, you are all amazed by this revelation but I fear it is true. I have absolutely no desire to spend say ... 30 hours knitting a sweater for someone who on my likability scale of 1 to 10 is maybe a 6 1/2. I don't. I do not. I am disinclined. Just because I have a tendency to make things then give them away does not mean that I want to knit for someone I've only known for 8 months. I mean really, we're talking about my sorta supervisor who's phone calls I ignore on a regular basis. He'll call me. I'll ignore the phone. He'll walk down to my office and say, "Hey, I just called you, where were you?" I'll say, "Sitting here." He'll say, "Why didn't you answer the phone." I'll say, "Because it was you." If I can't be bothered to talk to him, why would I knit a sweater for him? So screw it and let's move along!
Here we have the start of a sweater for ME. This is Mr. GreenJeans, which everyone in the world has knit, except for me. I'm not bothering to put in the Ravelry link because, like I just said, everyone else has already knit it. And as we can plainly see, I'm knitting it in Naturally Nazareth, which is a 100% DOMESTIC wool. None of those fancy French sheep for me, oh no. We're talking 100% made in America sheep from Philadelphia. Yeah ... Philadelphia sheep. Apparently this particular sweater looks good even on women who's idea of dieting means pie WITHOUT ice cream. Or those of us who are convinced that butter is a protein since it's in the same family as milk and cheese. We'll see how it goes, at least each stitch that I knit isn't preceded by major profanity.
And finally ... today's homage to the 80's ...
Ice, Ice, Andy!