Those of you who know me are aware that I'm a pretty subdued person. My personality is not exhuberant, and I don't make lots of sudden movements. I honestly believe my boss accepted me into the lab because I appeared to be this serious mature young woman who was going to be totally absorbed in her project. What I will share today may surprise you.
I have a confession. I prefer to finish projects at home because I am a FO prancer. When I finish a project I take my time with the seaming and weaving in ends to savor the act of working on it just a little longer. I really am a process knitter. But when that is complete I set aside any sharp objects (such as tapestry needles) and if the project is large enough I kinda gather it up in my arms and hug it to my chest. Sometimes I just smell the wool for a moment.
But my moment of calm always passes, and then. . . Then, the prancing commences. This starts with a squeal which is usually accompanied by the flapping of hands. I then rush to put on my finished project and prance around the house. Sweaters usually require lots of twirling in front of a mirror, whereas socks usually find me on my back with my feet kicking around up in the air where I can admire them. Socks get tested on carpet, hardwood and tile. Much consideration goes into every step to determine the exact smoosh factor of the yarn.
Purses get stuffed with things and swung about to test the strength of handle joins, then hauled off to the closet to chose what outfit I'm going to wear the next day to match it.
I can only imagine my reaction when I get into lacework. I'll probably prance around the piece while it blocks (making sure not to step on any blocking pins). I anticipate much twirling.
When I finally do take the garment off I will pet it longingly, recalling the way it felt on the needles. Never again will I be looking at the piece in quite the same way. It has either lived up to my expectations or fallen short. I can't go back to that baseline anxious hopeful state that I existed in during the creation process. The calm returns and the prance becomes a secret thing that only my finished objects have seen.
I know I can't be the only one.
Prance on, my fellow knitters.