So, I cast off the summery tank last night.
Maybe not awful. But it's not good. The vision in my head was good. I think I copped out on a few things, got a little lazy, etc., and now it's not of the good.
So I folded it up, stuck it in it's plastic baggy, and threw it somewhere in my house. I can't be bothered with you right now, tank. It's not me, it's you. Okay, it's really me.
Instead of making the modifications that I was going to on summery tank, I switched to working on the fingerless mittens for Jill. This time I had a pattern to work with, albeit a modified version. I'm using Knitty's Dashing, but modifying them to fit a tiny woman with chopstick-thin wristbones. First attempt, fail. Second attempt, fail. Finally I just said "Forget you!" and put those needles and yarn back in their baggy. They haven't pissed me off enough yet to get thrown.
I spent the rest of the evening plotting out how I was going to fix these things and make them work. Ribbing is stretchy. That's what I tell myself. So it doesn't matter if I only cast on 32 stitches. See above, re: chopsticks for wristbones.
This evening is crafty time with my friend Betsy, and I'm bringing my mom's blanket to the party. It's already started. It's quite simple. Stockinette, then reverse stockinette. I think I can handle that.
I'd better be able to handle that, or knitting and I will be on a break. Pooh.