A measly half a row before casting off and I run out of yarn.
I was at that stage of powering through to get to the end, even though I was tired, because I wanted the feeling of triumph that comes from finishing something. Yes, it would still have required buttons to be sewn on but that stage is not knitting so it doesn’t count. Knitters rules.
(I’m typing this up in the Granary library and my attention is drifting to the lovely Northern Irish lilt of the man speaking to the librarian behind me……..).
Where was I?
Oh yes! The running out of yarn just before casting off dampened my enthusiasm so much that the oh-so-nearly-finished work-in-progress was put down in favour of other things. One of those other things being Sherlock. Oh Cumberbatch. The episode in question was from the first mini series. Yes, I’d seen it already, but it’s Cumberbatch. He bears rewatching.
If I’m very good when I go home, I will sit myself down with a pot of tea and tink back a few rows on both sleeves. Instead of six rows each, I’ll do 4 and it’ll be done and dusted, knitting wise, and there will be yarn to spare.
If I’m very good. Which, seeing as it’s me and pigs have yet to sprout wings, may not happen.
The pot of tea, however, is a given.