lace in the pitch dark at the cinema because they have memorized the chart and can feel the stitches and have the sort of memory that allows them to follow what George Clooney is doing without looking at what their fingers are doing, but I am not one of them, and frankly I think that if you are, you should be at the United Nations sorting out that world peace thing with your huge brain.) I need a simple knit. No shaping, no yarn overs, no stitch or row counting; it needs to be a project that just has plain knitting with nothing happening. It needs to be small so I can tuck it into my purse, and discrete enough that turning iton my lap is not a large and distracting movement for the other moviegoers. (See? I’ve really given this some thought.) I have solved this dilemma with socks. Assuming that I have finished the ribbing (I can’t see what’s a knit and a purl in the dark, and if Brad Pitt jumps off that building there’s no way I’ll be able to remember what I was doing) and that I am not yet at the heel (I can’t short row in the dark; it’s unreliable), then the straight bits of the leg and feet are perfect for the movies. Round and round, knit every stitch. Perfect.
Other times, I’m looking for something more complicated but not so fussy that I have to use a chart or pattern to any great degree. I want something I can pick up and put down while I work on other things. Five minutes while I’m on hold, ten minutes in the line at the bank, fifteen minutes in a waiting room, or an hour waiting for one of the kids at a lesson or swim meet. No chart holds up well for this sort of in-and-out-of-your-purse action, and the project must be retired from public rotation as soon as it gets too big for easy transport. (There was a lesson learned on a public bus some years ago involving a stranger, an afghan, and my belief that he stole a ball of yarn from me, but that story does nothing for my reputation and I’m not repeating it. No big projects on buses.)
With this, we haven’t even scratched the surface of my knit needs. I need a project for the evenings when I’m watching TV. That can be something big and unwieldy that doesn’tget moved around much, or I could even choose something more complex, since I’ll have the light to read a chart. Charts are fine as long as it’s a drama. If it’s an action show where you actually need to watch to know what’s happening, the chart’s back out. (I’ve learned that if you’re “watching” action while knitting, a very great deal of the plot can still be followed if you just listen to the explosions.) Subtitles are their own genre, since chart reading is out if film reading is in. Listening to the radio, I can work on whatever I like, and it would be a shame not to take advantage of the chance to knit something complex with a chart and fussy instructions. After all, my eyes aren’t doing anything.
Following these guidelines, I’ve very efficiently begun a whole lot of projects (plus a few more, because all that simple stuff isn’t so simple until it’s cast on and counted), and I’ve placed them in helpful locations. Sock in my purse, hat by the door, simple sweater in a knitting bag by my coat. Mittens on the coffee table, Fair Isle by the chair in the kitchen, top-down cardigan on the dresser by my bed. A scarf is at the top of the stairs, in case I need a backup, and there’s another in a basket in the dining room in case I get bored with the first one. In the interest of honesty, I can tell you that there are several things that I started to meet the needs of the moment, but they don’t count because I’m ignoring them right now. They are in the hall closet, where they don’t try to make eye contact. Just to be sure that I am thoroughly prepared for all contingencies, I’ve also gotseveral balls of sock yarn with the needles stuck in them, just in case I need to grab four or five in an emergency.
Yessiree, I’m prepared. Totally prepared. Efficient,