If I were a wise person, I would put actual Christmas knitting in my goes-with-me-everywhere knitting bag, and I would knit on *that* during my lunch.
But I am not a wise person. At all. (And as you shall learn in just a couple days, I’m also a very smug person.)
So instead of working on a gift to be given in less than 20 days, I am knitting socks for my giant-footed cousin: a gift with no deadline or incentive for quick completion whatsoever.
HA! A test! Here is where the knitters shall be culled from the non-knitters.
A non-knitter’s response to the above photo: “Yes, that appears to be the leg of a sock, being knitted on funny-looking pink needles.”
A knitter’s response to the above photo: “GOOD GOD WOMAN, WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK HAPPENED TO YOUR YARNCAKE?”
Excellent question, knitters. And my answer?
I have no fucking clue. But as of right now it’s not behaving as a tangle – the working yarn still feeds from it freely and evenly – so I’m just holding my breath and hoping that it remains so.
Please, yarn gods, smile upon me for once.