Hands are for knitting
I had big plans to be a ski bum this winter... at least between 9 and 3 on school days. Fate, apparently, had other ideas. On Tuesday my ski season came to an end. The extent of the injury is astonishing, compared with the relative unimpressiveness of the fall. Tomorrow one doctor will give me some lovely medicine to make me go to sleep, and another will poke holes in my knee and open up a little hardware store in there. This nice black brace on the outside is my new best friend.
And so... here's to knitting. There is a little baby sweater in progress here... tucked in behind the crutches. This is a knitting blog, after all. (Crutches are hole new kind of crazy in Wyoming winter.) Here's to buffing up my not-quite-ready- for-prime-time patterns and posting them for sale on Ravelry. Here's to writing some new ones with all this newfound time.
Thanks to knitting, I won't go completely crazy. Look for me back on the trails by the time the flowers are in bloom. Remember, that's in northern Wyoming time. It's going to be awhile.
And so... here's to knitting. There is a little baby sweater in progress here... tucked in behind the crutches. This is a knitting blog, after all. (Crutches are hole new kind of crazy in Wyoming winter.) Here's to buffing up my not-quite-ready- for-prime-time patterns and posting them for sale on Ravelry. Here's to writing some new ones with all this newfound time.
Thanks to knitting, I won't go completely crazy. Look for me back on the trails by the time the flowers are in bloom. Remember, that's in northern Wyoming time. It's going to be awhile.
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