I had an interesting knitting experience today. A co-worker had asked me if I would knit a baby blanket for her grandson. I was excited, because I saw it as an opportunity to get started selling my knitting. I came up with several design ideas and knit small samples for her to choose from. (I was thrilled when she picked the one that was also my favorite.) After she picked out the yarn, I started knitting.
After I had been working on the blanket for about a week, I realized that it was going to take longer than I had thought. I began to wish I had charged more for it. I enjoyed working on the blanket, and I loved people's enthusiastic reaction to the pretty design, but I couldn't help missing my own projects that I had set aside. As I threw myself into working on the baby blanket every spare moment, I kept thinking about the half-finished lace shawl waiting for me.
When I cast-off the bottom edge and put the blanket in the bathtub to soak, it hit me that this knitting experience was coming to an end. As I pinned out the wet blanket, I was pretty stoked about what I had created. The next day I took the pins out, and that's when I really fell in love with my project. The lacy blanket had blocked beautifully.
I started working on my shawl again, and the baby blanket lay on our guest bed for a few more days. Last night I told my husband, "The blanket will be leaving us tomorrow." "That's sad," he said. I thought so, too. This morning I folded it and handed it over to its new owner.