I am mystified by (okay, jealous of) people who can knit and walk at the same time. I’m not one of those “I can’t walk and chew gum!” types, but I do have at least 50 minutes in my day when I’m both walking and cramming my head with information and amusement (via podcasts), yet I still feel like I’m wasting time because I’m not able to get a few rounds done on a sock.
I’m a hardcore multitasker; it’s in my blood. My mother used to say she could chart, eat, and talk on the phone, all while driving, and while I’d like to hope there’s a fair bit of exaggeration there, I’ve also been a quivering passenger terrified for my life as she navigated freeway traffic. I won’t even talk on the phone while I drive, so I’m usually not a road hazard when I’m trying to do four things at once. But I can’t in good conscience *just* knit or *just* eat or *just* read.
I know that some of that stems from my morbid thoughts and recently overgrown fear of dying, and there’s not a lot I can do about it at present. I figure the most optimistic estimate is that I’ll get another five decades, and even if I’m lucky enough to have them all be healthy and productive, each one will pass exponentially faster than the one before it. So I have to cram each moment full to bursting with all the things I want to read, knit, hear, or experience, even though I know it means I’m probably not getting any of it at its full face value.
Unfortunately, I am not an optimistic person (which is a whole ‘nother barrel of fish). However, much to my delight, I was able to get some yarn time in on the way home this morning, even it if wasn’t necessarily quality time.
I made the decision last night that I was going to frog and restart my Cherry Lane socks. I’m knitting them on 2.5 mm needles, and the fabric is actually denser than you’d think it would be just by looking at the yarn. I can easily afford to go up to a 2.75 mm, and as a bonus, I’ll probably be able to get the socks over my heels without a massive tug-of-war. Fortunately, the yarn is so soft, the pattern so pretty, and the progress so small, that a reboot isn’t that much of a chore.
I decided I’d rip the socks out as I was walking home. I got to play with a lovely yarn, listen to a podcast, and get my walk on, and when I got home, the yarn was all ready to be re-cast on. It’s not as good as actually getting to knit, but it was still productive in its own way. Also far less dangerous, both from a frostbite perspective and a not-getting-hit-by-a-car perspective.