So, where were we? Ah yes. Friday. When knitting was fun again and I was still in love with the project.
By the time I went to bed Friday, I had actually finished with one color, had only the last 38 rows left to knit, and was beginning to fear that my Olympic Project was destined to be the single ugliest piece of knitting I had ever accomplished. Will I, nil I, I had entered a fourth event - the Relay, a.k.a. How Fast Can I Get Rid Of This. Completion of this event only required me to continue knitting with my eyes closed and I had gotten pretty good at that.
The plan for Saturday was to finish the knitting and start the blocking. If I missed that deadline, I knew there was no way I'd get the tassels made and attached by the time the torch was extinguished. Despite my increasing dislike of the project (and it was increasing exponentially with every row), I abandoned all my other responsibilities, put my head down and doggedly stuck to my needles. I may have gotten to bed a few hours later than I meant to -- and that may not have been the wisest decision I ever made, since I wasn't exactly at peak performance in the first place -- but I finished. I Soaked it and left it rolled in towels, hoping it would look a lot better to me in the morning.
My family tried to be tactful. This involved a lot of silent head-nodding because they couldn't think of anything actually pleasant to say. The Princess broke first. Silent head nodding gave way to silent head-shaking followed by a quietly apologetic, "No." The Lord Protector, with all the brutal honesty of a 15 year old, observed that "You know, it hurts your eyes if you look at it too long." The Pirate looks at it only to look away very, very quickly; I don't think he actually winces. Their Father has maintained his silence, in itself a very bad sign indeed.