Reason 1,000,001 Why I Love My Job (even though the first million reasons are not US dollars)

If you're a blocker, I soooooo know you're jealous.

(What is blocking?  Read this. Even if you're not a knitter, it'll educate you and it's a great article.)

I've reached that state of knitting prowess where I need to block.  Reasons:

• I knit lace (or do lace knitting, cuz I'm still on the patterns that have purl row reprieves)
• I LOVE shawls.  Love.  Love.  Love.  This will get its own blogposting or seven.
• I repurpose yarn and do not 'refresh' it in any way except to wind it into super-tight yarnballs that probably bruise the fibers (shaken not stirred, anyone?)
• I knit Russian, so my purl-sides can be crazy loose, especially if knit while watching thoroughly engrossing TV like Hawai'i Five-0 BBC's production of "Little Dorrit"
• It makes me feel like an uber-knitter

BUT, unfortunately, I live in a 701 square foot condo with my stash and 2 dogs and a cat.  I like the condo, the size is actually good 'cuz it forces me to make those spiritual choices about stuff like my 80's cd collection (is it beautiful?  is it useful?  have you played it since 1993?  stuff it, I'm keeping it anyway.) and books and all that so when it comes to blocking, I've had to choose between having a bed and having space to block.  And, as much as I love knitting, ain't no one coming between me and my Stearns & Foster.  (Not even Chester.)

So, imagine my delight when I realized that my file room at work, which only a couple folks have access to, and I trust their feet to be clean, has a big ol' 7'x6' empty spot and the carpet is peppered in a grid pattern!

I am restraining myself from bringing my vacuum and steamer in.  For now, I just have my fan there.

Don't look, Xine, this is your scarf.

See how nicely this worked?  And since I forgot blocking pins, pushpins worked just fine.

Coming soon... binder clips and hair clips as shawl pins and repurposing office supplies for knitting notions.

Happy clicks!  And, happy birthday, Ma!  Love you and thank you for putting up with me when I was a chatty 7 year old, a squealing teenage girl, a mohawked riot grrrrrl, and a struggling young adult.  You are my rock.  (And, yes, I am soooo hoping this homage means you'll forgive me for forgetting to send a card.)


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