Knitting and talking

Can't be done. At least by me. And I won't even attempt talking and frogging again. Clapotis is a pile of yarn again.

There I was, sitting in the sun, catching a tan, sipping some tea, chatting with Megs, on my 3rd repeat of the increases - I look down and see a partial row of garter where there should be stockingette. About 7 rows back. Fine. I can handle it. Frogging is my speciality. The bamboo yarn holds it's loops, I can count back how many rows I need to re-do to find my place.

HA!!

There I am frogging and talking when I realize I didn't count. I don't know where I am in the pattern. I wanted to cry. I wanted to curse the knitting gods. Instead I just ripped the whole damn thing.

My Adagio came today. So I will make a cup, put on some music and sit alone. I will catch back up to where I was - tonight. I will not sleep until I'm there. I will ignore the sock, I will ignore the shawl. I'm all about my girl Clapotis.

In other news... job interview tomorrow at 12. This is the 10-6, M-F job. The one with all of the knitting time.

Oh, and I fondle the Debbie Bliss every night. I'm a yarn perv.