I’ve been working on this project for over 3 years. A knit blanket for my son, started the summer before his first year of college at RIT. He’s about to begin his last year and I’ve been determined this summer to set aside other projects and get it done.
As I start this post, I have only 5 rows to knit before finishing.
I’ve binge-watched I don’t know how many TV series from the Americans and Homeland to Ray Donovan and Peaky Blinders with too many movies to remember in between while knitting this. I somehow believed it would help me to knit faster – or at least take my mind off the fact that every row took 30 minutes to get across.
Each row is 493 stitches, each repeat is 42 rows; with 20 repeats, that’s … I quit counting. I’m conditioned to counting stitches, timing myself, knowing how long each section of a project should take. That’s important to know when there are deadlines to meet.
This knit blanket has had no real deadlines, though. It was always second fiddle to whatever was more pressing. Curious after writing this just now, I looked through my knitting journals and counted how many projects have been completed since I first undertook this one. I counted 48.
You might think I would be tired of it and overjoyed at knowing it’s close to the end, but honestly I’ve enjoyed knitting every single stitch of this blanket like no other project before.
I knew I would finish this today when I went to bed last night. I was so excited I even planned a celebration dinner. But now I’m dragging my feet. Not “binging” on escape. I’m savoring every stitch of these last rows. I suspect I may even experience separation anxiety when it’s finally out of my hands and into his.