This spring, it's all about doing it all over again. First, a small window into my own personal insanity:
I tried. And succeeded. The stitch markers along the live edge of the knitting are what saved me this time around.
Because this little baby is a pattern called "Fox Paws," and it is not for the faint of heart among the knitting world. And for some strange reason, I seem to be somewhat addicted to knitting it. It is unlike any other kind of knitting out there, as you can probably tell from the design, and I think that draws me to it time and time again.
That, or I simply have a masochistic streak that has remained undiscovered until now, when the little Fox Paws dug into it.
I also made another potato bin. Here's what it looked like in-progress:
I decided to use poplar for the corner posts, instead of oak, and I can't stress this enough: poplar is easier to drill holes in than oak.
Much, much easier.
The only thing that was less enjoyable this time around was stenciling the
Apparently that's a job best done on a cold winter's day. Because on a sunny, 70-degree day, one resents being trapped in one's basement with stencils and paint.
At least, I do.
But in the end, all was well that ended well, and this was how it all ended:
It is now full of dirt and compost and potato seedlings, and we can only watch and wait and hope.
I also went for a bike ride for the first time yesterday. You may remember how, last year, I struggled mightily with a new road bike. Specifically, the seat, the toe clips, the steering--actually, basically, just riding the bike in general.
But this time around, the only dilemma seems to be how out of shape I am at this point in the spring. Because I hopped on, flipped my feet into those toe clips, and off I went. I didn't take a long ride, because I'm clearly going to need to ease my way back into it, but I'm pleased to report that this year, the seat didn't make me rethink the entire purpose of human existence.
Sometimes, what's redone is well done.