Sock Puppet Barf

These three beautiful creations are my first three attempts at knitting. The washcloth that looks like a stingray (top left) was stitched in two years ago in Heber, Utah, at a family reunion while under the direction of my angel grandmother who patiently taught and re-taught me how to work the needles and supplied me with a starter kit she packaged herself: a few skeins of yarn, three sets of needles, printed instructions, scissors, one crochet hook, all encased in very old-lady-looking straw bag that I still tote around.

"Your stitches are too tight," she would say while lifting her head to better use her bifocals and see my work. And too tight my stitches most definitely were! My thumbs had permanent dents in them from trying to argue the loops off one needle and on to the other. It's a miracle I can still play video games. Gratefully, practice improves performance and the second washcloth doesn't look so much like a sting ray and just a small cafoodle (this is a word I made up to mean a mistake resulting in ugly-hood sock-puppet barf). My third washcloth (bottom) looks like a pretty peaches-n-cream square (after you tug at it for a bit).

Knitting is something to do while couching. Couching is the productive idleness; it consists of people gathering, sitting, and chatting all the while doing nothing productive. Some argue that couching is a way to build friendships, but really it's not. Relationships are not built by couching; they're built through overcoming hardships, experiencing new things, and doing something. BUT sometimes couching is just something to do because no one wants to spend money, it's too late to go anywhere, or we all just feel too lazy. Knitting makes me feel like I'm being productive even while I'm couching. And heaven knows I've been couching a lot. At the rate I'm couching I will probably make a few more washcloths before graduation. Maybe I'll send them out with my graduation announcements. Look for yours in the mail.