Out of Sorts

But Getting Sorted Out

The last few days, I have not been feeling at all the thing. A headache, a fever, ripened into a stomach virus that led me a merry dance. The glorious weather all the long weekend lured others outside. To me, it beckoned in vain. I did not so much as venture here into the blog's front parlor -- the laptop stayed cold and silent. No, I retired to the end of the couch, there to await the return of better days.

Listless as I was, knitting and spinning seemed boring and stupid. That was just the virus talking, but I had no energy to argue. I wondered why I waste my time on this silly hobby and felt oppressed by all the yarn and wool around the place demanding attention. I couldn't think what I would do with the yarn I'm spinning from that neppy pennywise-pound-foolish wool, other than being obstinately determined to persevere with it. One of my local yarn shops was even having its annual sale, and I was resoundingly uninterested.

World's most patient husband, bless his sweet heart, worried because I wasn't eating, offered me chocolate cake, evidently thinking that might work when all else failed. But to no avail. I could only nap and read books and try to wait it out. Eventually, though, after days and days of this, I wandered back to the spinning wheel to piddle around a bit. It seemed pleasantly absorbing instead of boring and pointless. That was a good sign. Then, a little later, I knew I was truly starting to come around when food started smelling and tasting like itself rather than an instrument of dismay.

And I, in turn, am beginning to feel almost like myself -- or if not like myself yet, then at least like someone who could possibly be a nodding acquaintance of mine. I've been up from the couch, cautiously eaten a bit, done a little housework (too little), and have started having ideas about what I might do with this yarn. I think there's a big comfortable, scoop-necked cardigan somewhere in my future. With roomy modified drop shoulders and sleeves for layering over other things. It will most likely be all in stockinette but for the ribbing, since the lumpy-bumpy yarn is likely to work best in the simplest of stitches.

I keep feeling, though, as if I ought to work in a touch of a fancier stitch pattern or some kind of decorative fillip. However, that's probably just some subliminal terror instilled by Barbara G. Walker's rather strong-minded dictate, in the introduction to her Second Treasury of Knitting Patterns, saying that any knitter who is capable of it must add some interesting stitch pattern to a project. Why? To distinguish it as handiwork and make it worth the knitting, which it otherwise wouldn't be. Of course, we have to keep in mind that she was probably just excited about her book of stitch patterns at the time (as am I; it's a doozy). But I think stockinette is rather beautiful, even unadorned. It's particularly good when you just want to emphasize the line of the sweater or the character of the yarn. And I think this yarn is going to be a character, all right.

It's good to have the ideas and plans starting to bubble at last. It's a sign that all will soon be well with the world again.