I guess it was inevitable. We fell for each other, hard, but what burns hot, burns fast, and so we've burned.
Oh, how I loved your cables. But let's face it: you could be very demanding. You couldn't bear to have my attention divided, could you? No, it all had to be focused on you, you beautiful, greedy thing. And still I knit, and still it wasn't enough. Sixteen pattern repeats, you said, and I knit on, despite aching shoulders and sore fingers. Five repeats. Seven.
And then you stopped being demanding, and became something worse. You became...predictable. I came home every night to the same cables, the same stitches, over and over again. Nine repeats. Ten repeats. Twelve.
And besides boring, you also became unwieldy, and spent most of your time lounging on the couch, hogging the remote control:
(Although, granted, you sure were nice to snuggle under, and warm.)
And by the time the sixteenth repeat was done, I thought it was over between us. I could barely stand to look at you, let alone touch you.
And then you did something unexpected: you gave me another panel. Suddenly, everything was exciting again. A new and less demanding you. Oh, the beauty of that Saxon braid. The nubbiness of trinity stitch (I can't believe I've never tried trinity stitch before!). The reduced number of stitches. The temporary portability. It was falling in love all over again.
I love you, Burridge. Let us never fight again.
(Of course, there are 24 pattern repeats in this panel. And then panel C, which is its mirror image. So I'm not throwing away the number of that couples therapist just yet.)
Labels: burridge blanket