Some say the essence of writing is rewriting. The essence of the physical act of writing is planting your butt on the chair and sitting still and thinking. The only bit of you that’s moving is your fingers on the keyboard. So why is it that when I get up, my butt is warm, the chair is warm, my brain is cooking but my fingers feel like ice cubes about to fall off the glacial slabs that used to be my hands? Anyway, that’s why I didn’t care how hard it would be; I decided the second project I would knit had to be a set of fingerless gloves. Besides, I figured I would learn a lot.
I learned how to knit ten little tiny inch-long tubes. I learned how to win the fight against double pointed needles when they try to act like triple pointed needles. I did not learn how to knit ribbing well, but I learned how to do the decreases around the thumb properly, and I was so excited I did twice as many decreases on the second glove. Oops. Then I noticed that the second glove fits better. Great. Now I want to rip back the first glove and reknit the thumb.
I’m beginning to think the essence of knitting is reknitting.