The Amazing Lace: meet (part of) the team

(Note: This is my entry in the first Amazing Lace challenge of the summer. It is silly, and contains little to no technical information or actual knitting. This is not a usual blog entry. If this sort of silliness isn't your thing, don't bother reading the rest of this blog entry. If this is the first time you're reading my blog, please believe that I'm not an evil person. Most of the time...)

This will be the team you love to hate. You know - the abusive relationship. One member of the team is always the boss, dictating what the other one will do, how they will do it, and whether or not they get to whine about it. I'm the arse. I'm the one willing to leave my partner stranded on the side of the road (without a map) in rural Laos or Peru while I flit off with my new, more attractive partner. Such is life, right?

Okay, neither I nor any of my knitting will be traveling to Laos or Peru this summer. We'll be lucky if we make it to such faraway and exotic places as Vermont. Heck, we'll be lucky if we make it out of Cheshire County, New Hampshire. But I do plan to be bossy and flighty with my projects partners. I will not be apologetic. For your entertainment (and pity) here is my first lace partner for the summer, getting advice from past victims knitting partners. (And boy were they eager to line up to dish the dirt.)



My partner's preparation has involved being spun in a circle until it cowered in a nice, compact little ball (boy was that fun!), and hearing tales of horror from past socks. Ya know, the usual stuff: being thrown around in plastic bags, having spare needles stuck through their bodies, having their noses sewn shut when I was done with them, etc. To heighten the suspense, it's not even clear which yarn will get the pleasure (and pain) of being my first lace partner for the summer. I'm planning to knit the Hedera socks from the latest Knitty. I'll start off with the Lorna's Laces, but if I find my partner (and her stripes) too troublesome for that pattern, I'll use the plain orange instead.

When I'm done with that partner, I'll stick it in a hot, stuffy drawer, and cast on for a glorious lace project that would put it to shame. Will I feel guilty about abandoning my partner halfway through the summer? Nah. I'm in this thing for me. I will twist that yarn to my will. And I will laugh maniacally all the while.