I’m still knitting along on the back of my miter sweater. But really really enjoying it.
What’s not to love when the longest row you knit is 25 stitches?
And what’s not to love when you get to change colors every 2.25 inches?
It doesn’t make for terribly exciting blogging, though.
But look at the cool little needles I’m using to knit this.
Yupperdoodles, straight needles. I have a whole set of these — Aero needles, 6 inches long. They are just perfect for knitting little squares!
I bought these eons ago at a knitting convention. While I don’t use them terribly often, they can be extremely handy at times.
Ann, This One’s For You
This sweet little porcelain piggie hangs right above my monitor in my office, so I see it every work-day. It’s about 2 inches long. I’ve had it for close to ten years, and I freely admit to stealing it from a former coworker.
I used to work for OSHA national office, and one year during the holidays the OSHA front office announced that they would be holding a holiday tree ornament contest for all the directorates in the OSHA national office. I worked in what was then the Directorate of Safety Standards and the job of creating the Safety Standards ornament was foisted upon me and another standards writer. We created a mobile that had symbols of all the industries and occupations that were covered by OSHA standards. Another coworker brought in the little pig to represent agriculture. After the holidays when the ornament was dismantled, I (cough, cough) ended up with the little piggie. Now that I think of it, I also have the little wooden ship meant to represent the maritime industries. Oops.
The ornament? It was huge and very, very tacky. A masterpiece of kitsch and crap and hot glue. And festive bows. We proudly carried it down to the Assistant Secretary’s office and hung it on the tree while everyone stood by, aghast. I think it was fully one-third the size of the tree. Even the Assistant Secretary came out of the Inner Sanctum to see it. He was speechless (a rarity for him.)
We won first prize — a very large tin of decidedly inferior cookies. The following year they instituted the door-decorating contest and I noticed I was not asked to participate.
“Momma bought me a box! I wish she’d hurry up and open it for me.”
“Yikes! She’s taking pictures of me! Quick — strike a seductive pose!”