Today I've been re-knitting a project that I originally worked on the wrong sized needles, which meant it went all wonky beyond the possibility of rescue. So I frogged it, which is always more satisfying than you'd think; one would imagine undoing work that took you hours would be frustrating, but actually the way the stitches just unravel is sort of like popping bubble wrap. Destructive, yet oddly soothing.
Then yesterday I started the whole thing again, but this time on the right size needles. These needles are made of bamboo and are part of the gorgeous set Mum sent me for Christmas. Knitting with these is just lovely.
The bottom inch and a half is going to be rolled up into a curl across the bottom, but I wanted it to match the ribbing of the top, so I inverted the ribbing for the first 15 rows.
Knitting tends to be a sedentary activity, which is perfect for a snowy weekend when you don't intend to leave the house. This suits Edith down to the ground, she's been curled up on me or next to me for the majority of the weekend. In this particular picture she is using my foot as a pillow, I think she slept like this for about an hour. It's a tough life for a floofy cat around here.


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