- NEVER knit too close to a sick child.
Something will splash my knitting, whether it be chicken soup or projectile vomit.
- NEVER promise a knitted item by a specific date.
Something always happens, and it’s never good. Promising a baby blanket by a particular day means it won’t be presented until that baby has a baby.
- NEVER knit under the influence.
Just one drink compromises my knitting. My gauge is sloppy and if I notice a mistake, I cheerfully pronounce it quirky and charming and leave it in. Later on, I suffer much pain and self-recrimination as I repair my charming little quirks. It’s worse than any hangover.
- And NEVER, EVER knit after midnight!
This Knitting Never is the most important of all. Whether I’m knitting a warsh rag or a shetland shawl, I must lay aside the needles when the clock strikes twelve. Otherwise, I’ll turn into a gremlin. It isn’t the knitting that turns me into a gremlin; it’s all the ripping and the fixing I have to do the next morning.
The Man has taken it upon himself to enforce these Knitting Nevers as best he can. It’s a risky undertaking, for I don’t like being told what to do and I especially resent having to put down my pet projects. He is willing to incur my terrible wrath to save me from myself and I love him for it.