On Wednesday, it was springtime. The flowers were peeking out of the ground, the sun was still shining when I got home, and the world seemed full of hope and possibility.
Then Friday rolled around. Now the only flowers I see are these.
It snowed all day Friday and well into the night, complete with howling winds and rattling screens. Gotta love New England.
However, this was the perfect excuse to hole up in my apartment (as if I need one - really) to work on Wicked. I'm happy to announce that I've finished the yoke, taken the sleeves off the needles and given him his first try-on.
I'm all puffed up like a proud mommy. He really looks like a sweater. Albeit a sweater that just barely covers the tops of my boobs and doesn't have any arms, but still, a sweater.
That yoke was nearly the end of me, what with the ever-increasing row length and what felt like miles of plain stockinette stitch. The main thing that got me through it were the encouraging comments and reminders that it would get easier after the yoke. So, thank you very much, ladies!
That's not to say there weren't also emergency measures - watching lots of Lost and Battlestar Galactica on DVD helped considerably. The awesomeness level of TV-watching around here has been high.
The only problem with said awesomeness is that Netflix clearly knows what a dork I am. And I'm convinced it's also judging me accordingly.
Kristy recently had much the same experience with Yahoo (though with less dorkiness and more knitting), which was remarkably cheering. Incidentally, her blog is excellent, as expected. And she has some lovely new socks you should really check out...
I'm off to paw through a recently-arrived Knitpicks box. I exercised tremendous restraint and didn't buy a single skein of yarn. Though it's possible two or three color cards snuck into my order, along with some quite lust-worthy pattern books.