One of the things about being around old friends you haven’t seen in a long time is that you get to learn more about them–and you also tend to learn more about yourself.
When I drove down to Pacific Grove three weeks ago, it was right at the beginning of cooler weather and I knew Monterey Bay is always a tad chilly anyway; I put my favorite silk jacket (picture if you scroll down here, under Karin‘s yarn) over my blouse on my way out the door.
I have short arms. Sleeves tend to ride down partway over my hands if a blouse otherwise fits. Get the petite size, it’ll be too short elsewhere; I just plain have short arms.
And as a knitter, that bugs me: the cuff edges bump against my knitting, they catch on my stitches, they catch at my project when I go to turn it around at the end of a row–and there’s also the problem that, as a sun-sensitive lupus patient, I’m supposed to wear finely-woven long sleeves all the time. They’re part of my cage.
I’ve gotten in the habit of folding the cuffs back. Poof, end of problem. And a little bit of defiance of disease.
Visiting with the B’s, one layer of cuffs I could ignore. Two, and when not yet used to cold-weather clothes for the season–I kept absent-mindedly trying to fold both layers back off my wrists, the heavy jacket ones flopping back down repeatedly.
Looking back, it probably looked pretty silly. Unhand me, you silk you!
I thought of that today in a cold house with two layers of long sleeves on again, bugging me, and just too cold to roll them up. I finally realized it was keeping me from finishing that sweater. Well then. I went and did my treadmill time, got warmed up, got the cuffs properly out of my way, and voila. One baby sweater.
Except the button. I need me a good, round, safe for little fingers, dragon-looking button to top it off.
I know, I know, pictures. When it’s not so late.