Of socks, sweaters, and cats

Hey, remember this?

DublinBay_Snow_3-30.JPG


This pair of socks is the bane of my existence. The Roman Catholic church may have done away with Purgatory, but I tell you these socks make me wonder if we don't, in fact, have it here on earth.

So, when last I spoke of these blasted socks, I was unhappy with the striping pattern and wondering if I shouldn't rip them out and try again on larger needles. Instead, I started the second sock on larger needles to see how it looked. And, frankly, I liked the sock on 0s better. The stitches are so tidy and small. And the sock fits really nice. And maybe the pooling isn't that bad and the striping isn't horribly obnoxious:

DublinBay2_3-30.JPG

DublinBay_Lace_3-30.JPG


But, look where I am on the sock:

DublinBay_3-30.JPG


As you can see, there's still a fair amount of foot and toe left before sock #1 is finished. And I don't know if I have enough freakin' yarn. Yeah.

Now. I may have plenty of yarn because apparently I was on crack when I wound the skein into balls and one ball is larger than the other. And I started with the smaller ball. So, I'm wondering if I shouldn't put this sock aside and knit the second one and then finish up when I know I have leftover yarn?

To tell you the truth, though, this sock is no longer making me happy. In fact, the sock has seemed to work against me every step of the way. I've a mind to stick the sock and the other ball of yarn in a bag and shove the bag to the back of my stash until my mental state has improved somewhat.

It's a shame, though, because the yarn has been wonderful to work with (striping aside)--it's really soft and I bet finished socks would be a divine wearing experience.

Sigh.

On a happier note (hopefully), I finished the body of the Beloved's Cobblestone Sweater yesterday and will start the sleeves today. No pictures, though. Honestly, it looks just like the other pictures--only longer.

This has been part of my problem in regularly maintaining what seems to be mostly a knitting blog...I'm slow and so there's not much to report. Still knitting the sock. Still knitting the sweater. Doesn't look much different. Meh.

Add that to my general to severe sense of malaise of late and...well...bad blogger.

On the malaise front--I thank everyone who commented and/or e-mailed regarding my last couple of posts. I truly appreciate the warm thoughts. Things here are...maybe not better, but not quite so grim. The Beloved and I had a...discussion...about how things are, how I feel, and how I can't have this be my problem. I mean, I treat it like my problem. I very much see it as my problem and feel like it's my problem--largely because I don't get a sense from him that he sees any sort of problem at all. Which mostly leaves me feeling....like I'm not enough. Or like there's something wrong with me that makes me as bothered and upset as I've been. Part of me thinks it may be time to dig my therapist's business card out of my wallet. And then another part thinks, well, what the hell is he going to do about it? He can't fix anything or make it better. I don't know. It all just seems to require more effort or energy than I can muster right now.

Polly knows how I feel. Well, on the energy front.

Polly15_033008.JPG


It's hard work being that cute. Seriously.

Polly_033008.JPG



Listening to myself

So, this year we put together a book of meditations for Lent. People wrote meditations based on the Lectionary readings for the day for each day of the season. When I remember, I read them in the evening sometime between dinner and bedtime. Lo, and behold, I wrote the meditation for today some weeks ago, back before I melted down. And so, I share it with you.

Monday, March 17, 2008
2 Corinthians 1:3-5
Paul’s Thanksgiving after Affliction

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, 4who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God. 5 For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ.

There’s a rather famous quote attributed to Mother Theresa: “I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.” It makes me think of this reminder given to the Corinthians by Paul regarding our abundant consolation through Christ.

While I was looking around for the quote earlier this evening, I found a number of listings discussing its veracity. Does God give us more than we can handle? Sometimes it seems that way. I’ve felt this way myself more than once over the past couple of years. Whether it’s one of those bad things that come in threes or a personal tragedy, a natural disaster or simply the last straw, sufferings are a-plenty. All we need to do is look around to see that. Yet, I believe Mother Theresa was right.

God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. God pushes us right to our limits, but then God provides us with consolation. The kicker for us is that we need to remember it’s available. It is our responsibility to approach God when we need consolation, which isn’t easy. It isn’t easy for me. In times of affliction, I don’t want to talk to God. I don’t want consolation. I want to be angry, upset, and inconvenienced by what God is asking of me. And after I’ve been in a snit and I wonder how anyone could be expected to handle what life has dished out this time, I remember not the words of Paul, but the words of our baptismal covenant: I will, with God’s help.

I will, with God’s help. In the Garden, Jesus asked God to “let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.” I will, with God’s help. As Jesus approached God for strength and for consolation so must we. For our God is the God of all consolation, and as we receive consolation, we may console others. We do not need to shoulder our suffering and our affliction in solitude. God can be demanding and often we are given more than we can manage on our own, but we are not meant to do it alone.

I will, with God’s help.

Look--Knitting!

cobblestone3


I've started in on a sweater for my beloved spouse. This is about 12 inches of the Cobblestone Sweater from the Fall 2007 issue of Interweave Knits. It makes for excellent TV knitting.

I wish I could tell you I've been doing really productive things in my month of silence, but no. I've been watching a lot of TV. Netflix on demand, mostly, but TV nonetheless. I've also been playing Rock Band. We're planning on making family members play on Easter Sunday to determine who gets to sit at the dining room table and who gets shunted off to the satellite locations. I hope they've all been practising their cowbell.

I also started these, which I may or may not finish:

babycalam3


Cute, eh? They're just a bit too small for the babies I know. And since it appears I'm never going to have one of my own, looking at the wee sockie just makes me miserable. I did start a second sock, but I just don't have it in me right now to work on it. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I seem to do this in fits and starts.

I also started a bunny intended for Backwoods, but that's been lingering in the unfinished pile for a while, too. It seems to elicit a similar emotional response to the wee socks, and so I just haven't been able to bring myself to complete it. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to bring myself to rip it out, either, so it sits there unfinished and mocks me in the dead of night.

I should probably elaborate a little: I haven't written because I've been...well...miserable lately. And it's generally better if I don't inflict myself on others when I hit this sort of mood. In brief, anything I would have written over the past several weeks would have earned me a well-deserved vacation at my local psychiatric ward. And, while I could probably use the rest, I don't think they'd let me take my knitting, and that just wouldn't do at all.

The Beloved and I have been trying to start a family for over a year. Well, we've been trying in earnest for over a year--I took my last birth control pill about four years ago for what that's worth. Our family still consists of four cats. If I am honest with myself, I realise that this is not likely to change--until the number of cats shrinks due to attrition. And this is basically intolerable to me. My husband, being a man, does not see what the problem is.

Maybe that's unfair. He keeps telling me he wants me to be happy; maybe it's only a problem to me and I need to "chill out and not worry so much." I don't know. What I do know is that I'm very tired. And exceptionally cranky. And very bitter. I don't particularly enjoy myself right now which basically means I've retreated into a dark, dank little den of self-pity. Which really doesn't help matters at all, but since I'm fresh out of ideas....

Anyhow. There's more light in the evening. It's getting warm enough to walk again. I'm sure the dark, nasty mood will come and go until I come to terms with what is and figure out how to go on from here.

Until then, there's Rock Band and the sweater. I should start the arm by the end of the week. I'll keep y'all posted.

Like us on Facebook

Flickr Images