Tornadoes in the south. Snow in the midwest. Rain and storms in the Pacific northwest. And here in the Middle of Nowhere? Chilly!
It's 39 right now, with a high of 40 predicted for today. And more rain. And snow (but no accumulation, thankfully).
My husband hates cold weather. Cold weather is so reviled around here that there has been talk, should we come into a pile o' cashmoneybucks (Publisher's Clearinghouse, anyone?), of buying a second home somewhere south of here. Or even of moving altogether, although I can't ever imagine him leaving southern West Virginia for good.
It's a lovely dream. I'm not as uncomfortable in cold weather as my husband is, but I certainly remember how wonderful it was to walk on a sunny Florida beach near my dad's when it was 75 degrees while West Virginia was snow-covered and freezing.
It's not fun to knit in warm weather, though, if you like knitting with wool, as I do. So a day like this is most welcome. Now that the newsboy cap is finished, I've started the first of two pairs of fingerless gloves, little gifts for blog friends who have inspired and informed and entertained me for many years. Half of one pair is nearly finished, thanks to Netflix. (The combination of cold weather and Mad Men is the perfect storm of knitting. Heh.)
I'd be finished with the first one by now but I had to rip a couple inches of it out. I started with one pattern, decided I wanted to use a different one, couldn't find it (what is it about my recent penchant for losing pattern books?), looked one more time in one more place and yay! Found it! Ripping a couple inches out of a 50-stitch glove is not as traumatic as ripping a couple inches out of a 250-stitch sweater.
Ask me how I know.
I've been knitting since I was nine years old and I've learned that if you're going to do it, you might as well do it right. You'll never be happy with the project if you don't. Whether anyone else notices a split stitch, a wayward purl, a miscrossed cable or not, you will know the flaw is present, and you'll push that sweater or scarf to the back of the closet or the bottom of the drawer. You might as well just rip and reknit and get it right so you can wear it without apology for the invisible-to-a-non-knitter mistake.
The only exception to this rule, for me anyway, is socks. If I've done something wrong on the part of a sock which will be covered by a shoe, I can live with it. If, however, I'm going to wear said sock with Birkenstock sandals, it's better to get it right.
Does this make me a perfectionist? Not at all. It's all about my comfort level. Comfort is my racket, so if something is going to bug me, I might as well fix it.
That's what the October experiment was all about. I want to be more comfortable with my body, and I defined some strategies to help me get there. I was doing pretty well until I got plantar fasciitis and a cold. My motivation is gone, for now, but it'll come back.
Right now I'm concentrating on coughing, sneezing and blowing my nose, as you both know all too well. Today is two weeks since the first cough. I'm soooo much better, but still not where I need to be, energy-wise, to get back on the horse. This forced rest has done great things for the PF, though.
There's always something for which to be grateful.