Some knits are in for the long haul. You just know they’re not going to be quick. I think there’s a certain amount of making peace with that idea that we (Ok, I) have to make. I’m not adverse to a slow knit. I just spent three months on a cardigan. But that’s about my limit. If something takes longer than that I start to get a gnawing, niggling sensation that maybe I should be done by now.
Once in a while I just know that’s not going to be possible. Yes I could have been entirely monogamous to my Crown Prince Shawl and had it done in that time. But then I’d never get any other projects done like hats for Alice or the last of the winter cardigans. Truth be told I think my Crown Prince, a huge piece from Knitted Lace of Estonia, will be done over summer when it’s too hot to handle anything heavier.
That said I have been tinkering away lately, mainly on my days off, home alone in good light, without the influence of an evening glass of wine, and making some lovely progress. It’s not a chore. Trust me when I say it’s not a difficult project. It’s just slow. Some rows even get into a nice rhythm. There’s a fair amount of repetition. It really is a very good lace project. But it’s not a sprint. It’s a very long marathon. Perhaps like running the length of the east coast of Australia. Yeah. Just like that.
It’s gonna be big. Really big. An enormous, sqaure, nupp-ridden piece of lace that I’ll probably wear once a year and keep wrapped up in tissue paper the rest of the time.
But it’ll be worth it. Of course it will. Because I’ll remember that I knitted hundreds of nupps, that I laboured over every stitch, that I watched A LOT of period drama while doing so and that it’s mine.
These are the thoughts that keep me going when it seems progress is slow.