I struggle to find time to knit these days. With work and class and a dog that insists on his fair share of my time, the opportunity to sit and do nothing but knit just isn't showing its face as often. And I miss it.... So, although I can't quite justify pulling out knitting needles during a meeting, there are ways to incorporate some quality knitting time.
Step #1: Get a really big everyday bag. Every other step is pointless if you can't guarantee that your knitting will fit. If your bag isn't big enough, you may find you occasionally give up precious, precious knitting space for other not-so-precious things (i.e. textbooks, dog treats, umbrellas).
Step #2: Leave home early and take the long way to work.
If you take public transit to work, you may need to do some investigating to find the ideal solution for adding knitting to your commute. Busy bus routes are far from ideal if you can't get a seat. You'll be jostled around and may accidentally poke a fellow passenger with your knitting needles. Not ideal. At all. Crowded subways that resemble a jar jammed full of pickles moreso than a modern transit system are also not ideal. There usually isn't even room for breathing, let alone knitting. Try getting a different bus route, or opt for the streetcar instead of the subway. Drive? Try carpooling with a perfectionist. Done.
Step #3: Step away from your desk.
Since you cannot eat and knit at the same time, take lunch early at your desk. Regardless of how sloppy or soupy it is, eat it right over that keyboard - don't be shy (your IT department will be your new best friend), keep on working, and save your lunch time for knitting. Then, pick up a hot, cozy beverage (it sets the mood) and find yourself some comfortable spot nearby - like a bench, or a big tree with a nook for sitting in - and knit. Knit yourself happy.
I spend far too much time looking up baby names for someone who has no baby (and no baby-to-be).
I would like to knit now. Please.
I am too stuck to knit. You see, I was making a baby sleep sack (for a friend of husband's whose baby is due any day now), but have decided that the yarn is all wrong, and the band is not elastic-y enough. I also bought half-as-much yarn that is required for a gorgeous, soft, smooshy blanket I am knitting for our living room couch and have made no effort to track down the other 6 balls that are required. And, to top it all off, I desperately want to knit something for that sweet baby that is due any day (see above), but cannot seem to find the time or energy to trek all the way to the back bedroom to retrieve some stash yarn for a little sweater.
I have had three of these today.... will likely be getting a fourth very very soon.
And for anyone who might be curious. I did win on my Roll Up the Rim today. I'm one for three and the proud recipient of a free coffee. Woo. Hoo.
Pancakes for dinner has to be one of the greatest things ever.
I should be working on a Flash assignment right now......... but instead I'm writing this nonsense. Having sensible priorities is overrated, in my humble opinion.
Paying with my dog before work is the best way to start any workday. Dog hairs on the corporate-wear be damned.
Okay, so maybe the title of this post is a little bit dramatic. But still... it lives. And I can't quite believe it. I thought I had killed it.... I thought I had killed it good.
Maybe I should explain:
I have this spider plant ("chlorophytum comosum" to those in the know...) that has been with me for nearly a decade. It was a gift from a much loved neighbour to honour my big move to Toronto after graduating university. It was my first housewarming gift, the first plant I had ever been given, and an essential part of making my new apartment in a new city feel more like home.
And, in those 10 years it has thrived and survived. It has survived multiple exposures, it has thrived in the same crusty 10-year old soil (I have this theory.... when I re-pot plants, they die, so I just don't do it.... ever), it has tolerated my inability to water it on a regular basis, and it has lived through four moves.
But, it seems this house of ours is the final nail in the coffin for this little guy (he's so small it actually only takes one nail). Turns out, our 900 sq. ft. house has proven to be too big for me to handle. The spider plant was banished to the back bedroom and ignored for the better part of the past year. And in this vaste wasteland of a house, I have managed to never, ever, ever go into the back room to water this little plant.
(A thinking person might suggest I move him to a more inhabited part of the house, but, to that, I would reply: "It's 900 sq. ft. if I add another plant to ANY of the other rooms, they'll feel like a flippin' greenhouse.")
So... when I last checked on him in early January, he was completely crusty and brown. Dead as a dead spider plant. And, in true 'me' fashion, I left the carcass there and shut the door. Avoidance, avoidance, avoidance.
That is, until yesterday. Yesterday, we cleaned this house top to bottom, and that included the banished back bedroom.... and, to my complete surprise, this little guy is actually, honestly, incredibly, still alive. He's so alive he's sprouting. Look: