On letting go

I have trouble admitting something's not working. I will make an entire enormous hat, microscopic sock or wing-like sleeve without admitting anything is wrong.

Or a gigantic mitt intended for someone with tiny, tiny hands.



Mitt, loosely based on the Super Mittens from Weekend Knitting, but made fingerless, and with a cable slapped on the top of the hand. This mitt is actually the perfect size. For me and my extremely long-fingered man hands.

I'm not completely unaware that my knits are turning out wrong. There's usually that creeping sense of "Hey, this doesn't look quite right..." But I usually block that out with some mature variation on LALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU or "But I've already put so much effort into it..."

I realize that continuing to put time and effort into a project you know isn't working, just so you don't have to admit it's not working, is, uh, retarded. But there you go.

I would like to do less of that. Both in my knitting and the rest of my life. First up - I've lived in New England for over a decade. And I've never liked it here. There's nothing wrong with Boston, but it has never felt like home. And it never will. And lord do I hate winter, in a visceral, completely irrational way.

I have finally, finally decided to move back west. At the end of the month, I will be leaving my low-key publishing job for a short-term and far-from-low-key gig with a Big Corporation. Big Corporation will be paying me enough to completely finance a summertime move to San Francisco.

Where I will live happily ever after with BFF Quinn and Kelley and year-round farmer's markets and good Mexican food and ice-free sidewalks...

So in the spirit of letting go of things that just aren't right, I should probably reknit the damn mitt...



If the resized mitt (pictured right) is too small, I'd really appreciate it if the recipient never, ever mentioned it and instead just crammed her hands uncomfortably into it, like one of Cinderella's evil stepsisters trying to squeeze into the glass slipper. My desire to get things right only goes so far.

And since I'm told mitts traditionally come in pairs...



I like to think this set loudly and proudly announces to the entire (knitting) world that A KNITTER LOVES ME. It's like a secret handshake.

That leaves only one more Christmas knit to finish. I'm shooting for mid-February.

Because that's the kind of awesome friend I am.