that we will always stay entwined like this forever.
Since last Thursday I have been operating in my relaxed mode. It feels very weird to be so relaxed, especially after the last two weeks.
One more relaxed day and I would officially be a sloth. Thank goodness for tomorrow. Yes tomorrow, the only day in the week I dread, yet I love at the same time. Wednesdays make me feel accomplished because I have to be at uni all day, attending five classes back to back.
On the weekend we had nice weather, but I didn't really do anything outside. Something which I am now regretting, because it started raining today - and if I know anything about this city's weather, it's not going to stop raining for about two more days at least. Today was kind of weird - gusty wind, yet it wasn't all that cold. I only found out that it wasn't that cold after I stepped out of my building clad in two layers of clothes and a thick jacket, of course. Had I been a weather girl, I would probably have people waiting outside my building waiting to kill me.
Anyway, talking about weather brings me to my latest 'project'. I really shouldn't call it my latest project, since it started about oh, two years ago? But being in cold weather compelled me to finish knitting my scarf. So yes, I shall call it my latest project.
And the drama started on a wonderful Monday afternoon. Right after lunch, I ran out of mindless things to do - I had the option to start re-drafting my personal column, of course, but the thought of doing something uni-related made me feel a little less happy. As I was standing in front of my wardrobe, my peripheral vision caught the sight of a neglected, multi-coloured fabric peeking out of my bedside table.
I picked it up, a deep frown graced my forehead as I realised that the knitting needle had come out. Crap. I don't know how to backtrack a knit - I mean, I do, but the type of yarn that made up the fabric does not allow an easy backtracking. Plus, I was missing the other needle.
Letting out a huff, I decided that I would look for the needle, and then try to work out the knit. The scarf is half-done, there is no way I'm going to unravel the whole thing and start over. No, sir.
Finding the missing needle was nothing adventurous - I suspected that it would be in my drawers somewhere, and it was. So after a little rejoicing over finding the needle, I went back to my unravelling scarf, scowling at the sight.
Frustration almost came to me when I finally worked it out. I remember that I set an odd number for the weave, something around 35 - so I counted the number of weaves I managed to ‘salvage’. Thirty six. Great. But it’s alright, it’s okay - I’ll work it out. Staring hard into the knitting, I took double weave into one new weave.
A new row was complete, and I started counting again. Thirty-four. What?! So I started unravelling the row and the two that came before it. Then a hole appeared in the middle of the knit, meaning I must've missed a weave or two. Good Lord.
Another unravelling session was followed with another hole. I was surprisingly determined, though. I guess relaxation does wonders for your self-motivation. Or maybe I just didn’t have anything better to do.
After the third attempt, everything was finally knitted into place. I saw the clock; it said 3:40pm. I had about half-an hour to get ready for my media class. I told myself I’d finish two more rows and I’d start getting ready.
But as luck would have it - my knitting life is nothing short of a soap-opera drama. I came to the last of the two rows, sat back a little, and then gasped in horror as the end of the row came off the needle! I saw five weaves falling off - biting back tears as I tried to put them back in the needle. To my dismay, I couldn’t put them back, and instead I made two more rows unravel.
I muttered obscenities to the fluffy scarf and tried to find my inner zen. Once I was calm enough, I had a look at my seemingly mangled scarf. It looked bad. And there was no way I was going to unravel two full rows again! Okay. Calm down. I probably spent a good five minutes just staring at the loosened part. I finally figured out a way to redo the part and triumphantly re-knitted the last row.
Phew. Who woulda thunk knitting can be so dramatic. Needless to say, my relaxed Monday was not so relaxed anymore. But I felt somewhat accomplished, which is good.
Then I my eyes caught the numbers appearing at the clock. 4:06pm.
Crap!
I jumped out of my bed, carefully folding the scarf, making sure the row was at the end of the needle so it won’t fall off yet again. I definitely will cry if that happened.
Rushed to change, and out I went running to my media class.
ps: you can click on the pic to view the larger pic.
One more relaxed day and I would officially be a sloth. Thank goodness for tomorrow. Yes tomorrow, the only day in the week I dread, yet I love at the same time. Wednesdays make me feel accomplished because I have to be at uni all day, attending five classes back to back.
On the weekend we had nice weather, but I didn't really do anything outside. Something which I am now regretting, because it started raining today - and if I know anything about this city's weather, it's not going to stop raining for about two more days at least. Today was kind of weird - gusty wind, yet it wasn't all that cold. I only found out that it wasn't that cold after I stepped out of my building clad in two layers of clothes and a thick jacket, of course. Had I been a weather girl, I would probably have people waiting outside my building waiting to kill me.
Anyway, talking about weather brings me to my latest 'project'. I really shouldn't call it my latest project, since it started about oh, two years ago? But being in cold weather compelled me to finish knitting my scarf. So yes, I shall call it my latest project.
And the drama started on a wonderful Monday afternoon. Right after lunch, I ran out of mindless things to do - I had the option to start re-drafting my personal column, of course, but the thought of doing something uni-related made me feel a little less happy. As I was standing in front of my wardrobe, my peripheral vision caught the sight of a neglected, multi-coloured fabric peeking out of my bedside table.
I picked it up, a deep frown graced my forehead as I realised that the knitting needle had come out. Crap. I don't know how to backtrack a knit - I mean, I do, but the type of yarn that made up the fabric does not allow an easy backtracking. Plus, I was missing the other needle.
Letting out a huff, I decided that I would look for the needle, and then try to work out the knit. The scarf is half-done, there is no way I'm going to unravel the whole thing and start over. No, sir.
Finding the missing needle was nothing adventurous - I suspected that it would be in my drawers somewhere, and it was. So after a little rejoicing over finding the needle, I went back to my unravelling scarf, scowling at the sight.
Frustration almost came to me when I finally worked it out. I remember that I set an odd number for the weave, something around 35 - so I counted the number of weaves I managed to ‘salvage’. Thirty six. Great. But it’s alright, it’s okay - I’ll work it out. Staring hard into the knitting, I took double weave into one new weave.
A new row was complete, and I started counting again. Thirty-four. What?! So I started unravelling the row and the two that came before it. Then a hole appeared in the middle of the knit, meaning I must've missed a weave or two. Good Lord.
Another unravelling session was followed with another hole. I was surprisingly determined, though. I guess relaxation does wonders for your self-motivation. Or maybe I just didn’t have anything better to do.
After the third attempt, everything was finally knitted into place. I saw the clock; it said 3:40pm. I had about half-an hour to get ready for my media class. I told myself I’d finish two more rows and I’d start getting ready.
But as luck would have it - my knitting life is nothing short of a soap-opera drama. I came to the last of the two rows, sat back a little, and then gasped in horror as the end of the row came off the needle! I saw five weaves falling off - biting back tears as I tried to put them back in the needle. To my dismay, I couldn’t put them back, and instead I made two more rows unravel.
I muttered obscenities to the fluffy scarf and tried to find my inner zen. Once I was calm enough, I had a look at my seemingly mangled scarf. It looked bad. And there was no way I was going to unravel two full rows again! Okay. Calm down. I probably spent a good five minutes just staring at the loosened part. I finally figured out a way to redo the part and triumphantly re-knitted the last row.
Phew. Who woulda thunk knitting can be so dramatic. Needless to say, my relaxed Monday was not so relaxed anymore. But I felt somewhat accomplished, which is good.
Then I my eyes caught the numbers appearing at the clock. 4:06pm.
Crap!
I jumped out of my bed, carefully folding the scarf, making sure the row was at the end of the needle so it won’t fall off yet again. I definitely will cry if that happened.
Rushed to change, and out I went running to my media class.
ps: you can click on the pic to view the larger pic.