My Lost [Knit] Weekend

My weekend was eh.

Don’t get me wrong, it has some really good moments – mainly good food moments, but otherwise – not so good. You see, Summer is my LEAST favorite season. I’ve never liked it. Never. Goes back to being bored and waiting desperately for school. I also hate to be hot – at least in the buggy, muggy Mid-Atlantic kind of hot (drop me in a desert and I’m in heaven). Not that it was hot this weekend – but you know what I’m talking about. Also, I hate Summer because I become a Tennis/Pool widow. Some women lament football season. CursingMama competes with a bike. For me, it’s tennis.

Part of me loves Summer in that G can be doing what he loves – he loves Tennis and he loves the sun. And because of the sad state of his body, he always has the feeling that this is the LAST SUMMER he’ll be able to do what he loves. I would NEVER want to be the kind of person that keeps him from what he loves. NEVER.

But I get lonely. I’m by myself pretty much the entire week. In my little office working. Out taking pictures. Knitting. Don’t get me wrong. I LIKE to be alone. But I can’t wait for G to get home from work. Even just to have him in the house. And when Summer comes, it’s like I’m alone all week, and then I’m alone all weekend.

So, what better to celebrate than to throw a little tantrum on the first official weekend of Summer? There were tears, there were recrimations, there were apologies. I was so pissed off at myself, really, that I scrubbed the stove top (it was disgusting), cleaned the microwave (not as disgusting as the stove top, but close), mopped and swept the kitchen floor (sticky AND disgusting), mopped and swept two of the three bathroom floors (more dusty than anything else.) Who says mental anguish can’t be good for the soul? Or at least the house?

The rest of the day I spent in bed, mad that the TV in the living room was taping FUCKING TENNIS and watched seven consecutive hours of Band of Brothers. It was pretty good and I knit past two decrease sections on Clap-o-TEE. There was no way I wasn’t going to finish it this weekend.

Georgie redeemed himself by making me the best lamb chops either of us have ever had. He was SO proud of himself all weekend! They were amazing really – all he did was marinate them in Balsamic Vinegar and some meat rub and throw them on the bbq. He grilled them to perfection.

Then we watched some 24 (we finished the season – more on that tomorrow) and I started dropping stitches on the Clap. GASP! Something went really wrong somewhere on one of the dropped stitches. Suffice it to say the next morning (I could barely sleep thinking about it) I was up at 7AM ripping out all that I had knit the day before (remember 7 hours in front of the TV!) and then some. Can you say broken heart? I got it all out and managed to knit it all back the same day. How come even though you’re decreasing stitches, the end doesn’t seem to go any faster than the any other part of the project? I finished it last night (well, I need to weave in the ends and drop a few more stitches) watching Empire Falls at around 2AM. It looks good – pictures later.

I also knit this:


The first time, it was looking pretty good and I was getting to a really crucial part when I decided to check for size. Too small. There were also a couple areas that could’ve used some improvement, so I ripped it all out and started over. I’m happier with it now, so that’s good, but my whole weekend started to feel like Groundhog Day. Destined to knit the same shit over and over.

I’m just glad it’s over.

PS – Donna asked if I jumped in the 50 degree pool I posted a picture of on Friday. No, Donna, I don’t do 50 degrees, but the pool was the highlight of the weekend. It was funny as shit to hear people jump in and immediately start screaming about the cold. I’m not kidding. And you know a pool is cold when the kids can’t handle it. Georgie said it was crazy cold (and this is a guy that swims in the Atlantic Ocean in October without a wet suit). Even he was questioning his sanity.


  1. nothing like a tantrum to clear out the sinuses. I threw me one of those last week – I am still shaking my head about what came over me!

  2. Oh dear, I hate those days. For me it’s the nature walks/tromps through the woods.

  3. Is that…could that be…a sock?
    Some knitting just doesn’t like to be completed without causing trouble. It keeps us humble, no? At least a knitter knows how to entertain herself when alone or in front of a TV. Perfect lamb chops would be worth a few hours alone.
    We only had to stay up until midnight to see Empire Falls (that alone is a feat for me) but it was worth doing.

  4. Boy does that ever sound like my life. I am home with my Buster all day long each day, so when it’s time for him not to be at work I want him to be with me. I just miss him, that’s all. I can’t help it if I’m totally crazy about him. We fight about this from time to time and I always come out of it feeling like a shrew. It makes no sense to feel like a shrew over wanting to spend time with your spouse though. Strangely, we usually work it out over some Band of Brothers too. I think the best time of my life has been the time spent with him reading that book to me.

  5. My husband loves sports, especially hockey. I don’t love hockey, but I love my husband. So he gets season tickets to hockey games (when the NHL isn’t on strike) and I go along with him. I always take my Palm filled with ebooks with me, so if I get bored, I can read. He understands and is ok with this. Next time hockey season comes around, I’ll probably knit at games instead.
    He listens to sports radio in the car. I always hated the thought of sports radio. But over the years I’ve known him, I’ve come to appreciate sports-talk a little, even if it’s only from an anthropological Men-are-from-Mars kind of perspective. πŸ™‚
    So I guess I’m wondering if there is any way you can tag along and cheer from the sidelines when he’s playing tennis? That may not be in your relationship’s dynamic, or it may be too hot for you, but it’s a thought. It’s good to look for common ground wherever you can find it.

  6. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!! I have always thought I was the only person who hated summer, with the heat and the bugs and the humidity! I get so depressed when the professionally cheery weatherpeople come on the radio and say, “Well, folks, it looks like another beautiful day! 80 for a high, and not a cloud to be seen!”…

  7. Oh, can’t wait to hear what you thought about 24 and Mr. Jack Bauer…
    Yeah, I hate Mid-Atlantic summers too–I used to live in New Mexico where there was 0% humidity, and it was SO much better.
    Have a good one, C! πŸ™‚

  8. I don’t like summer either, and I believe too because of boring childhood summers. I don’t like hot weather but at the same time I do miss the Italian summer where it is really hot (while here in California it’s always chilly at night). Never said I make sense in my likes and dislikes. So nowadays I do not like summer and I get homesick all summer, and I have to put up with in-laws asking me why I don’t spend a month in Italy in July. Hello? We do not have 8 weeks of vacations a year here, and airplane tickets are too expensive during the summer.
    Oh, I need a good tantrum too.

  9. I haven’t had the tantrum yet, but we know its only delayed due to the motorcycle accident *shudder*. Glad to hear you came out of the tantrum in a good place, with a good dinner and a lot of clean rooms! Can’t wait for photos of Clap!

  10. A little tantrum sounds like a fine thing to have if the end result was a cleaner house. πŸ˜‰
    I’ve hated summer ever since I’ve been old enough to have to do something other than hang out in the pool all day. Heck, we even moved to Maine from NJ so we would have less summer, that’s how intense my hatred is. I try to think of it as something to get through, and get up extra early to take advantage of the best part of the day before the heat builds.

  11. Your tantrum trajectory sounds an awful lot like mine. Mine also involves a much cleaner kitchen, cleaned so noisily and obviously that the entire neighborhood suffers guilt for not having emptied the dishwasher three days in a row…
    Sometimes I get takeout ordered for me to assuage this painful little performance. Sometimes crΓͺpes. Sometimes a matching tantrum. In any case, we come out of it with a clean kitchen, full bellies, and a resolve to be gentler with each other.
    I have never, however, come out of it with as beautiful a sock (?) as you. πŸ™‚

  12. I don’t love either summer or winter. I like the transitions, neither to hot nor too cold to get out side with Isabelle. I would go nuts if I lost Jesse all weekend as well as all week, we need every minute we can get with him, though I really wish he had more time for himself and played more sport, so I can really understand how torn you must be between longing for George’s time and not wanting to come between him and the tennis/swimming! I can’t wait to see your clapotee!

  13. The tantrums… been there, done that. (Well, OK, still doing it, really – from time to time). I am a robot car widow this summer, and it pretty much sucks. And it doesn’t really make sense to get mad at someone – so mad that you don’t want to see them – when you’re mad at them because you don’t see them, does it? I guess that’s life and relationships.
    At least you managed to be productive! I usually just sulk, and my house still hasn’t managed to clean itself.