Nothing is miserable unless you think it so; and on the other hand, nothing brings happiness unless you are content with it. --BoethiusThis week, I threw myself into work. I worked, and I worked, and I worked. I rose in the morning, I went to the gym, I ate food, drank coffee, and then I kept working.
When I went home, I knitted. I wanted to finish my Mehndi to wear to the company Christmas party on Friday, and I knew I had a bunch of work to get done on it if I wanted that. I pulled a couple of marathon knitting sessions, and by Thursday evening, I was stretching it onto my blocking boards. On Friday afternoon, I yanked it off the boards, sent the pins flying everywhere, sewed the final ends in while I stood in the living room with my coat on, and slung it around my neck as I walked out the door.
It is a beautiful finished object: so much loveliness, so many intricate stitches, every single one placed with a purpose. The yarn, Cascade Heritage Silk, is smooth and warm and showed off every single stitch. I marvel at their engineering, and how the twisted stitches create the scrolled effect that attracted me the moment I laid eyes on the pattern. It is exactly as I wanted.
I wanted to wear it with this dress, which I purchased back in September. This is an approximation of what it looked like on Friday, minus the heels and the two hours of wrestling with my hair into something of an elegant updo. I'm surprised any of my hair is left after that tortuous session. Next year, I'm wearing a friggin' hat.
But he was my family.
I had a two-hour nap yesterday afternoon, and when I woke, the hubby opened a card we'd received in the mail. We thought it was one of the obligatory family Christmas cards that appear each year.
This one was from the staff at the vet's office.
After a week of work, I broke down and cried again.
After that, I got up, took out my swift and ball winder and wound a few skeins of yarn to start working on my next project. I knitted a swatch, made some calculations, did a bit of research, and I'm going to start on it later today.
Because what more can I do? I can only keep knitting. This is all I know how to do. And perhaps someday, it won't be so sharp, and I will feel content.