Knit Two, Drink Two


Knit two, purl two, knit two, purl two, drink two, knit two, purl two, knit two, drink two, purl two, purl two ... does this look strange or is it just me?

I fell in love with the idea of knitting. I blame it on Grand Purl-Baa, Loani Prior, whose tea cosies are the most whimsical flights of fancy you could imagine.

On spying her pom-pommed Party Girl cosy at a book store to promote her Wild Tea Cosies book, I went home with visions of sitting at home every night, knitting needles click-clacking as I churned out a tea cosy of my very own, candles lit, kitty cat and hubby curled up at my feet.

It first went wrong when I remembered that cats love playing with wool. This trait is so basic, it doesn't even get a mention in Cats 2.0. After one too many instances of chasing Ella all over the house, knitting desperately clasped in one hand to prevent it unravelling while trying to prise the woolball of saliva from her jaws with the other, I started to see a hole in my plans.

Firstly, soggy wool is not so easy to knit. For those as skilled as Loani or the tireless women of the CWA, perhaps. But for moi, no. Secondly, my hubby's far too tall to curl up at my feet. (And surprisingly unwilling.) Thirdly, as you'd guess from my use of the word 'churned' with reference to producing this fluffy work of art, I had an expectation that I'd be able to produce my tea cosy in less time than it would take to brew, pour and drink three pots of tea. It turns out I was wrong. (Perhaps my speed was hampered somewhat by the bandages, but even so ...)

Now, I've amended my expectations and consider knitting instead to be God's soft and fuzzy way of teaching me patience. If I can just figure out how to do it while wearing protective gloves, I'll really make some progress.

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