Once again, we’re trapped in frigid weather. The Polar Vortex apparently had good things to say about our city, and so all the Dangerously Cold Air Masses are rushing down here, one after another, here to check it out.
Usually when I’ve been driven inside by bad weather:
- My DIY gene kicks in as I begin muttering words like “built-in chimenea” or “regrout” or “wire that thing right up.”
- The clutter seems to grow as I’m looking around and I start indiscriminately sweeping piles into the recycling bin.
- Baking sounds like the greatest idea ever and I’ll make (and eat) cookies and brownies under the pretense of “heating up the house.”
- I suddenly decide to learn a musical instrument — with predictably horrible results.
- My husband and I look at vacation rentals in extremely warm locales that we could never afford to rent out.
And you know what? Even though I’ve felt these coping techniques start to come over me, they just don’t get anywhere. It’s too freakishly cold. Although the old twitch to reorganize or find the chocolate chip muffin recipe starts out strong, it shrivels down and all I can think of is how much I want to bury myself inside a quilt or two and not move.
And every part of me is cold: my nose, my hands, my neck, even my eyelids are chilled. I have cold feet — and not the kind where you lose your nerve and have second thoughts.
So I pull my canine heating pad (aka, Louie) on my lap, pick up my knitting and watch TV. Thank goodness the Olympics are scheduled in a couple of weeks.
I’m knitting socks from these lovely warm colors that are evocative of desert sunshine.
That beautiful yarn is Fannie’s Fingering Weight in the color way called, appropriately enough, Arizona. Can’t believe it was sitting in my stash.
I’ve also learned the hard way that I have horrible Second Sock Syndrome. I’m sure it has to do with clipping the yarn as I near the end of grafting the toe. Once the scissors come out, I’m already mentally sorting through my stash for the next project.
I cope as best I can with the only cure I can think of: I work both socks at the same time.
I divide the yarn into two mini cakes and then alternate between them. Cast on one sock, knit a few rows and switch. Cast on the second sock, work through the ribbing section, and switch again. I find its the easiest way to keep the two moving along at a pretty good clip and mirror each other without too much fuss. I’m already getting started on the heels and it feels like I’ve only just begun.
It would go more smoothly if Louie would tolerate my knitting over his head. Good thing he’s cute — and warm.
How are you guys staying warm in these crazy temperatures?