Work on the Jack the Teddy Bear continues.
Alas, the more I knit, the more there seems to be to knit. I'm like the Red Queen in Through the Lookingglass, running and running without moving forward. I'm also like the Red Queen in that this apparent futility makes us both slightly bitchy now and again.
The biggest pieces are finished: both halves of the body, and the three pieces that together form the head. In terms of even tension and consistent stitching, I think the head gusset may well be the best thing I've ever knit.
I'm now working on the ears, two pieces for each for a total of four. Half done with those. They look like tiny stockinette potato chips.
Still not begun are the arms (two pieces per arm) and the legs (three pieces per leg). And then, some time around my fiftieth birthday, when Cher begins her absolutely final farewell tour, I sew and stuff and assemble.
Most of my thoughts while I stitch are happy. This has been a great project for learning new techniques and becoming comfortable working through a complex pattern. I think of C, and how he asked specially for this bear, and how when it's done he can hug it and feel loved and comforted. And he will look even cuter than usual* doing that. Makes me feel warm all the way to my toes.
But every so often, just for a fleeting moment, I think, "You rotten bastard. Couldn't settle for a hat, could you? I sure hope you're going to love this when it's done, because if you don't I'm going to beat you to death with it."
Don't pretend you haven't thought the same in mid-sweater.
*And that's pretty damn cute. "Basket of kittens being held by Jude Law as he stands shirtless in the front garden of a cottage in the Cotswolds" cute. Only cuter.