Desperation

I'm a woman on the edge. There's no other explanation. I could argue that it's good sense. I could tell myself it's an indication of just how high my "g" level is. But deep down in my secret heart of hearts, I know it's desperation.

Forget the "all knitting is good" stuff. Lose the whole "knitting is Zen" thing. It's not anymore. I need to finish. I don't much care what, but I need to call something done. And not some fiddling, little, one-skein, knit-it-today-wear-it-tomorrow something. Something real. Something earnest.

I picked the mitered squares - all 80 of them.

In the past four days I have gone from sporadic, lackadaisical mitered-squaring to fiendish, constant, compulsive mitered-squaring. I finished the 28th. That's more than one third of the way there. The 29th, 30th and 31st are on the needles.

By Saturday, I intend to complete the 40th and celebrate the half-way point.

I have started blocking. I've emptied my pin-holder.

I can only fit 6 on my blocking board. I'm debating getting another one.

Or two. (I can justify anything. I'll tell myself I need them in order to block a whole sweater: one for the front, one for the back, one for the sleeves.) If I got three more I could block 24 at a time. Multiples of 4 are good. I have to assemble the squares in sets of 4.

This is serious (stop laughing, Diane). I have devised a countdown chart and a plan for assemby. Well, sort of. The blue squares mark where the duplicate squares will land.

For the rest, all right, I admit I'm still debating. Not for long, though. I will start assembling in a matter of days. Yes, I will. I'm just waiting until I have enough blocked.

This will become Henry Ford style knitting. I'm going to become a one-woman assembly line, simultaneously knitting, blocking, sewing up, and sewing in ends. I may try to deceive you that I'm doing other things, thinking other thoughts, knitting other projects. Imposing order and organization in other parts of my life. I will be lying. Just so you know.

If not now, when? When the 80 squares are done and I'm more than desperate, I'm buried? No, by Harry. I'm going to make Kay proud of me. Maybe then she and Ann will come to Chicago for their new book tour. Desperation can make me believe anything.