I’m not sure if it would be considered “nesting,” but ever since these pregnancy hormones kicked in, I’ve become obsessed with knitting. I first learned to knit back in 2009, and I jumped from knitting a simple two-toned scarf to making a cabled legwarmer set that took me over a year to complete.
Now I’m making all things baby toys. I started with a lumpy carrot and then worked together a respectable eggplant that will soon be shipped to Egypt for a dear pregnant friend and her little baby girl.
Then I foolishly jumped headlong into my most complicated knitting project yet: an octopus. Eight two-toned tentacles, each using short rows and stitching. A single piece mantel and head that required extensive increasing and decreasing with double-pointed needles to achieve the round bulges. Embroidery for the eyes. And fake grafting to sew it all together. And completed, its tentacles only reach 11 inches in diameter.
As my unsympathetic husband reminded me multiple times in my almost-defeated moments, I just should not have jumped from “beginner” to “experienced” in one week. I hate to say he was right. And I won’t. Because I have prevailed! I have created an octopus. Not a tetrapus or a heptapus. An octopus.
But now I will be going back to some knits that I can actually manage, like a 5-inch tomato.