I finally get into a knitting rhythm with the ribbed back on the Phildar shell and it got much easier. Fighting with my knitting is not a task I look forward to for relaxation. Once I reached this state of ribbing zen, there was far less action required of the crochet hook for dropping down and correcting miscast stitches.
The back is finished. I mostly finished last night, or early this morning actually, completing the last row of ribbing while we sat for an hour in the parking garage at Yankee Stadium attempting to begin our return journey home following the ball game. I did not cast off and do the shoulder shaping in the dark on the ride home up the Taconic Parkway in the rain, figuring that this was a sure-fire invitation for errors.
The experience only served to further remind me that I would much rather take a train into NYC than drive for any reason. I don't mind driving on the streets of New York; I hate it when traffic just stops, as it does all too often. I don't usually mind driving at night but a trip on the train at 1 AM, with perhaps a little snooze, is far preferable to a windy wet dark road with deer lurking along the fringes.
Since I have developed a tendency to sleep for almost exactly 6 hours most nights (about once ever 10 days to 2 weeks I crash for 10) I have gotten in the habit of using those few hours in the mornings when no one else is up to wake up gradually with a little knitting or sewing or reading or other relaxing activities that I enjoy in peace and quiet. I assumed that the morning hours would be the perfect time to finish the shoulder shaping.
I Was Wrong. I got as far as casting off for the back neck when others started to arise. They quickly began to bombard me with questions and discussions of how the day should be organized, what should be done, and in what order and by whom. As the other combatants were not used to 6 hours of sleep (sometimes I wish that I wasn't) they were tired and crotchety. I don't really deal strife early in the morning well, part of the reason I treasure my early morning reverie, and especially not before I have had coffee. I don't need coffee to wake up, just deal to with other people who have just woken up. Still, instead of putting my knitting aside and starting the coffee, I insisted in finishing the task at hand and doggedly sat there and finished knitting and casting-off the Phildar cotton shell. I am nothing if not stubborn.
When I went back put my knitting away I discovered that I had cast off so tightly that there was no hope that any human head would ever fit through any neckline formed by this sweater edge. In fact, the ribbing was tightly bound into its narrow, unstretched width. Once I got everyone out of the house I was able to pour another cup of coffee, treat myself to a lovely handmade chocolate truffle, sit, relax, and re-knit the shoulder area of the Phildar shell.
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