Nimbus Pimbus

Nimbus is rising slowly from the ashes of it's first demise. Very slowly, I think.

The back is finished and the size appears right.

But the left front is on it's fourth re-knit. I started it yesterday at knit group and managed to finish the bottom band of garter stitch and about 10 rows of the stockinet. Last evening, I thought it would be prudent (no slouch, me) to check the height of the garter stitch border. Yikes!!!! 13 ridges. There are supposed to be 12. The back has twelve. I held them side by side, hoping it wouldn't be noticeable. No such luck. Rip it!

I blindly knitted back up to where I left off - 10 rows of stockinet before I thought to check the pattern (you know, I'm so smart- or think I am - that I had - or thought I had- the pattern memorized.) Turns out I didn't. I had forgotten the garter stitch button band running up the front. Rip it!

Try number four and here it is.

Can you see the few rows of stockinet stitch in the midst of that garter stitch border? Hopefully not, because that would mean that I don't need to fix it. My MIL used to say that if it wasn't visible from a galloping horse, it didn't need fixing. Me? I don't ride, so I wouldn't know.

I blame all of this knitting and re-ripping on my dentist. Wednesday morning, I had a root canal. Number three for me. Which makes me a bit of a bit of a root canal expert. Not a sought-after expertise, believe me. The tooth is a bi-cuspid (I learned that term when I told the dentist it was the second molar from the front. "Bi-cuspid", he said. Semantics, thought I. *#@%!!, thought I, a couple of seconds later when the drill seemed to be breaking through to my nostril.

This expensive, half-hour procedure (and the reason Fred left me the cheque book) left me with a face that looks as if I am carrying a baseball in my left cheek and eating Tylenol all day yesterday. No wonder I had to rip.

On the 'merry widow' home front, today I am making three loaves of home-made, whole wheat bread to take to the Church garage/bake sale tomorrow. This is the first year I have not been at the trailer when the sale is held, and so I am able to contribute. Tomorrow is also the 65th anniversary of D Day. Locally, we have a veteran who lived through it having three different tanks blown out from beneath him. After the garage sale, I think I might go visit him.

Thursdays Are For Knit Group

With many of our knitters off travelling, our numbers have dwindled at knit group. Nell is in Holland, Joann in Germany, Ingrid in Toronto. Less enticing, but nonetheless important, Megan's work schedule now has her working Thursday afternoons. Until she can convince her boss of the importance of knit group (and why he can't see that is hard to understand) we won't see her for awhile.

That meant only eleven of us at knit group today. Sharon has started another baby sweater.

Top down and in a great orange colour.

Bonnie completed another great little hooded sweater.

Knit with Astra that her daughter purchased a few years back, intending to learn how to knit. When that didn't happen, she gave the yarn to her Mom and as usual, Bonnie put it to good use.

Wilma has started a wonderful little summer top.

Using Super 10 Cotton, in a beautiful teal blue, she is almost done the first half.
That colour is going to look fabulous on you, Wilma.

And on the 'merry widow' home front, it occurred to me today, that I have a good thing going here. I have the cheque book, but only have to cook and clean for one for the next little while. A position many would envy, I'm sure.

Knittingly Depressed

Progress on Nimbus seems slow. Since the back is almost finished for the second time, I know that truly, it isn't slow, but second time around, it feels depressingly slow.

With the painful lack of progress making for less than interesting picture fodder, I cruised blogland today for some items of interest to brighten my blog and interest my readers. I found lots, but instead of cheering me up, I am now, more than ever, knittingly depressed.

Sandra posted about Fiona Ellis speaking at her her guild last night. That would be the third, (and closest to home) world-renown, knitter, author, designer within driving distance of my house that I have NOT gone to see. Besides Fiona, I missed Sally Melville in Peterborough and Cat Bordhi in New Hamburg. How knittingly depressing. Le Sigh!!

Then Julie (From the Needle Emporium in Ancaster) tells of her tent sale starting tomorrow. Again withing driving distance. But I really do not need any yarn. I have several sweater's worth queuing up at the starting gate. Not to mention the tons of hat's worth, or mitten's worth. I had decided quite some time ago, that I would not attend the tent sale. I will not attend the tent sale. I will not attend the tent sale. How knittingly depressing. Le Sigh!!

On the 'merry widow' home front, tonight I am eating pork. Fred loves the taste, but can't digest pork, so we never have it at our house. But when he's away, it's porkfest time for Brenda. Nothing depressing about that.