Kiri said that we needed to talk last night. Not a good thing. Because when your knitting needs to talk to you, you're either: a) delusional, b) getting dumped or c) all of the above. None of the prospects were looking too good as we sat down for our heart-to-heart. Now, it's not like I haven't been dumped before by the usual suspects- exes (good riddance!), supposed friends (ouch!), credit cards ("...we regret to inform you...") But I wasn't prepared to be dumped by my knitting. On the contrary, I've always been the dump-er. I've spewed out my share of hurtful one-liners. "You're nasty acrylic and we'll never see eye to eye," (Said after my one-night fling with said acrylic) never thinking that it would come back full circle.
But Kiri was different. We hadn't been together for long, but I knew she was "the real deal." Getting dumped was definitely not on my agenda, but I suppose I should have seen it coming. She was too cool, too sophisticated and way out of my league. Like those girls in high school who wore the fitted Chic Jeans, Guess? shirts and had the perfectly permed hair. I hated them. But I would've died with a star-struck grin if one of them had ever bothered to give super-dweeb-me the time of day from their Gucci-interchangeable- watch band -watches. Anyway, being the starry-eyed fool that I am, I pursued Kiri anyway. I suppose she was wooed by the alpaca/silk and the Addi Turbos. Maybe she convinced herself that they would make up for my ineptitude and somehow make her time worthwhile. So not. To her credit, she was incredibly gracious, as one would expect no less from Ms. Te Kanawa. "It's not the right time for us now.... we could try again next time....Maybe somewhere down the road..." I could almost hear the Barry Manilow orchestra tuning up in the background. (Don't even get me started on Barry Manilow. He made me the biggest dork in kindergarten. How was I supposed to know that other five-year olds didn't know all the words to Copacabana? Thanks a lot, mom!)
And so, I watched her leave with bittersweet sorrow. (ribbit, ribbit, ribbit) But being the knit slut that I am, my wandering eyes were quickly enticed by some Brown Sheep Wildfoote I had in my stash. I couldn't cast-on quickly enough for Brother Bossy Boots' toe-up gymnastics socks. I've never done toe-up before, and so far it's going well. I love how quickly socks for 3 -year olds knit up! (I'm not sure I'm too thrilled by the wonky ridge in the middle, but that's what you get when you're on the rebound. )I barely did an inch of the foot after the increase section, and look, it's already time to turn the heel! Doncha just love rebound knits??!
So (*sticks tongue out*) there you go, Kiri! Just goes to show: there are always other fish in the sea.