I had my final meeting with Evan. This involved free weights, the Swiss ball (he did not see the potential for slapstick humor, although he may now that he has shown me how to use it), and a strange device that involved hanging in the air and lifting your body into space.
“Evan,” I said, “can your mom do this?” I wanted him to have a little perspective.
He said she could, and in fact, so could I. It is not as hard as it looks. I have sore muscles today. I like a little soreness, myself. Leftover dancer’s masochism, I suppose. I hesitate to admit this to people, of course, since it sounds perverse, but it came up in the conversation with Evan. His eyes lit up, and he eagerly shared his methods for ensuring sore muscles.
It’s nice to find others who share your little peccadilloes, isn’t it?
The second Fuzzy Foot is done to the heel, and I have cast on for the sixth bawk.
I am ready for a different knitting project, I think.
My grandmother was an expert knitter, but she made the same pattern — a top-down seamless raglan — all the time. I can only think of three or four other items she ever made. Nearly always, she did her raglan sweaters. She never used “fancy stitches” or colorwork, either. Just stockinette. She knitted constantly, and often read while she knitted, and I don’t believe that she ever once got tired of doing that same pattern.
So why do I have this mad craving for variety? It doesn’t even seem mad to me. After I’ve cabled for a few weeks, I crave Fair Isle. After I’ve done a few things in worsted, I want to make lace. Stern duty keeps me producing bawks, of course. The Fuzzy Feet are providing a little respite from cabling.
But I think it is time to change it up, as Evan said when he showed me how to do the free weights. Sore muscles and a new knitting project — what more could I ask?