start date: 20 September 2015
time elapsed: 3 days
Among knitters, there’s a term for starting one project immediately after the end of the last one. It’s called “binding off to cast on”. That’s what my life has been like for the past several weeks as I look at the calendar and the nesting list and start to feel a little wave of panic rising in my chest.
I finished Númenor’s coat late one night, and cut out pieces of these shirts the next day. I finished the last shirt this afternoon, and cut pieces for Númenor’s hoodie before dinner. Back to back to back to back.
In the pro column, I sure am productive these days! In the con column, I’m feeling the strain. And somehow every Wednesday seems to find me actively binding off to cast on, and therefore not really having a WIP to post about. (Un)luckily, I have also outstripped my own ability to stock supplies, so I get to share these sweet little tunics while I wait for the elastic I need to finish them off.
Having had a springtime homecoming with Númenor (he was born in the winter but, as a preemie, didn’t leave the NICU until spring), most of our basics are for warmer-weather babies, and these will bridge the gap by providing an insulating underlayer for t-shirts and vests and sundresses and pinafores.
I’ve really enjoyed feeling the crisp linen in my hands as I worked. There’s something about that fiber, especially in this undyed, unbleached state, that is ponderous with tradition, that hearkens back to earlier times and simpler needs and brings the primacy of preparing for a new baby into sharp relief.
I could have just three months left now before the baby comes. And there are still a lot of things that must be done, which is a strange phenomenon when little babies (especially those with older siblings) have such basic needs.
Maybe it’s the basic-ness of the needs that I find so worrying: what if the baby isn’t warm enough, clean enough, dry enough, safe enough, snuggled enough, welcomed enough?
Maybe that’s why my head is so full of bees trying to ensure that everything is ready: while the baby’s needs are simple and few, they are critical.
I’m trying to remember that just because it’s critical that the baby is warm doesn’t mean that it’s critical that I finish any particular blanket or piece of clothing. We have plenty of warmth here already in hugs, and blankets, and a busy kitchen. We have plenty of cleanliness, too, and, perhaps more importantly, not too much, either. We have ways to get dry, even if I never re-hem that new hooded towel. We are safe. We can snuggle.
And I don’t think I’ve ever truly doubted that we would welcome this new life among us.
The fabric in the shirts is an unbleached handkerchief-weight linen I was given as a gift; if you’re looking for something similar, try this. The pattern is a long-sleeved, tunic-length adaptation of Abby’s infant peasant dress, which I highly recommend, although I can’t speak to the construction tutorial because I’ve used my own techniques. I have attached the sleeves to the bodice with a French seam and the sides are Elizabethan seams, for maximum durability. The gray fabric in the pile at Ithilien’s feet is a seconds-quality cut of a long-discontinued organic sweatshirt knit from Organic Cotton Plus. If you’re looking for something similar, try this.