My Wolop Advent Box colour of today is:
very similar to the brown I used yesterday! It’s stopping me right in my tracks. I start thinking about frogging yesterday’s part but I don’t want the frogging and reknitting to become a habit. It’s time to let things just be.
So I’m not knitting on this today. I leave it pinned to the couch for a chuckle and wait for tomorrows’ colour to get me going again.
There’s plenty to do in the mean time! My nephew has his birthday party today (his actual birthday is tomorrow) and we’re visiting for the first time in years (health prevented me). We have the Starwars LEGO Advent Box for a present, that should score some points with a ten year old. And I’m going to brush paint a card for him, he’s still talking about the card I made him last year:
So sweet of him because I felt very insecure when I finished this. So many things were wrong. Colours, lines, wobbly perspective, so much ugh. But still, a heavily critiqued card is better then no card so I sent it and what do you know, he loved it and still talks about it!
Another area for me to learn to let things just be. And listen to other people when they point out where things I made or did are nice and beautiful and let that overwhelm the faulty parts I see.
This year I’m thinking baby snow leopard, holding a LEGO box:
It’s fluffy tail and the ribbons of the box will be on the front of the card, leading him to the illustration on the inside. (note to self: attach long ribbons to actual present so there’s an association between the parcel and the card.)
There’s something funny about snow leopards and their tails. Start your education here 😉
Tomorrow is Saint Nicholas and I still have to finish the …. (thing I can’t tell you because Lieneke may read this). And there’s all the wrapping to be done and poems to be written.
And of course there’s plenty of knitting. This weekend I’m working actively on the Glitter Fir Cowl, on the stranded owl mittens and for the car ride and party I have the vanilla sock in bright dragon colours.
I’ve finished one mitten (minus thumb) and am halfway the second:
(At the bottom the too-small-mitten.)