Well. I can hardly believe it. Cranky is all clean and happy, clamped to the kitchen island as a temporary measure. Observe:
Here's another photo of Cranky and some of his accoutrements:
I have a spare 80 needle cylinder, still in its original wrapping, a buckle and weights to weigh down the work-in-progress, 2 wooden bobbins for winding the wool on, and a very tedious, fussy set-up tool used to start the knitting that resembles umbrella guts.
Happily enough, the needles were lying in the mailbox this morning. This evening, I decided to knit a tube.
Here's my first attempt:
If you look closely, there are a few stitches in that piece, or should I say pieces? It didn't take me long to call it a loss and cut the work off the set-up tool. I think I kept the set-up tool too high in the cylinder, and in my excitement, I forgot to hook the weights on the bottom of the set up tool, which resulted in the knitting working its way up the cylinder and dropping, err, almost every stitch. So, scratch that off the record. It's only a bit of left-over wool, and my patience pit hasn't run dry yet, so I gave it another shot.
I actually managed to knit a tube, and if I can say so myself, the tension isn't half bad!
If the wool hadn't run out, the tube might have ended up...like...miles long! There is something completely meditative in the degree of concentration it took, and the output it gave. I could have cranked, and cranked, and cranked...
I have a new appreciation how this hobby can become addictive. Very addictive.
Today, a tube, tomorrow...a heel?