It Seemed Like A Good Idea At the Time

It's dangerous for me to be housebound. Cabin fever breaks out in strange and unexpected ways.

Before I delve into that, though, let me say, we're shelving the Victoria Mitts. Too many improvisations. I should have ripped the whole thing and started over (product, not process). Instead, I left the original cuff and edge, knit the hand on US size 6's instead of the US size 5's I got gauge with, decided to do the top edging with the same size needle I did the bottom.

In a word, "Eh." Add in that I liked them better at the wrong gauge and they're so yesterday.

Meanwhile, doing and redoing the stockinette gave me plenty of time to think. Well, let's be honest, you can't really dignify the twisted path my stream of consciousness took with the name "think." There was plenty of mental meandering, though.

This seeming wandering led me irresistibly to one particular UFO. My perhaps not so random mental walk may have been led in part by Mason-Dixon Kay's progress with applied i-cord and the diagonal square afghan, which I have been following with an attention that borders on the obsessive.

Add a vague and nagging sense that if one's offspring has devoted considerable time and talent on this particular UFO, helping you arrange a seemingly random pattern that wasn't actually random (because she knows your sanity is on the edge and she prefers you at home rather than unkempt and drooling on some street corner), if you should suddenly get inspired to completely revamp said arrangement, it behooves you to do this while she is far enough away that, should she choose to wax indignant, the only havoc she can wreak is at long (very long) distance. (In my defense, she has been fore-warned.)

Now to unite all that. Cabin fever plus time to meander think plus a distant child equals:

It's still not quite there, though. You know what it really needs?

16 more squares. Like I said, dangerous.