I can’t do much more today than assure you that I am alive and well.
I did some more Sous Sous. I once believed that when I had divided it for the deep v-neck, the job was almost finished. It’s not – I’m knitting back and forth on more than 150 stitches, decreasing four of them in every six rows, hardly enough to count. And “knitting back and forth” means “knit one purl one”-ing back and forth, for the endless double moss stitch.
The reason being, I’m mostly knitting sleeves now, in a drop-shoulder pattern.
Still, I’m doing it, and things are moving forward.
I might say, patting self on back, that I am rather proud of myself for interrupting on-going projects to make way for the Dunfallandy blankie – which obviously had to be ready for Juliet on time – and then going back to them. Tokyo shawl finished, Sous Sous at least with the home stretch in sight. I think it’s those WIPs being tracked in the sidebar that keeps me on the straight and narrow. Except for poor Kaffe.
Not quite knitting
The BBC is doing a clutch of series called Island Parish. There was one about the CofE man in the Falklands. We watched a couple of episodes. They were mildly interesting. This week, they have started a new series, about the Church of Scotland man on Unst. I recorded the first episode yesterday and eagerly look forward to watching it today.
In so small a place, we’re bound to see something of the Unst Heritage Museum and the women we met there; of the world-famous Unst Bus Shelter; and with luck we’ll get a distant, breath-taking view of Muckle Flugga.
Why should so distant and inhospitable a place (even by Shetland standards) have become the home of the finest lace knitting? They couldn’t tell me, when I was there. It’s probably nothing more mysterious than a single remarkable woman – or a remarkable family, perhaps.