Houston, we have a ... BERET!

Knitting class follies continue, and I'm pleased to report that I have an almost-finished first beret. It actually bears some relation to my head circumference, and while I'm a little taken aback at it's voluminous poofiness, I think this is a good first effort:



Alert readers have asked, "what are those dorky-looking rings doing in your hat? Are you attempting to receive signals from outer space?"


I'm so glad you asked (we hobbyists just LOVE answering questions that we ourselves had two weeks ago). They are "markers," little plastic signals to tell me exactly which stitches to decrease to make the top of the hat narrow down and eventually close up. And, we close it so the rain does not fall on my head through the center of the beret, and my head doesn't poke through, making me look like a total idiot.


Oh. You already knew that part. Never mind.


Soon, very soon, I will switch the whole project off the circular needles and over to the Dreaded Double-Pointed Needles, and the markers will go back in my bag, to roll around on the bottom, getting lost (I had to unpack my entire bag last night looking for the darned things--that's where they were, on the bottom and hiding in the corners). I need a better storage system, that's clear.

But today I must pack for our trip and clean the house and remember to empty the garbage and cull out the refrigerator so we don't come home to the smell of something that died while we were away. (When I left last summer for two months on the West Coast, I forgot the coffee sitting in the pot on the countertop. I came home in September to a fascinating science project perking away in the carafe, something I would like to avoid this time).


So, the beret may have to wait until my house-wifely chores are done today. With 16+ hours of driving ahead of us, I expect I will have plenty of time to knit on the road.


Major confession time: I am a terrible automobile passenger. I suspect it has something to do with control issues (Ya think)? Without something to occupy my attention, I sit in the right-hand seat, gasping at brake lights, bracing myself for imminent imagined collisions, throwing my arms over my head and cringing into a fetal position with my feet up on the dashboard. Sometimes I actually whimper and keen. It drives Bill absolutely nuts to have Panic-Pam paying minute attention to his driving--my normally calm husband usually ends up yelling at me, "I SEE IT, [insert expletive here], I SEE IT!" Since I have taken up knitting (and since I'm still so very bad at it, requiring ALL of my visual and mental focus), our car trips have been mercifully peaceful. I drive, he sleeps. He drives, I knit. See, even old married people can learn new tricks! Thank you knitting--another added benefit!