Last week was one of those weeks that would have been a bit challenging even if my husband hadn't been traveling. Nothing major happened, just a series of kid-related Stuff that underscored how important it is to be able to bounce these things around with the other parent. My husband was at one of the conferences that is flat-out the entire time, so I spoke to him around 8 am my time (he was two hours behind) and then that was it--he often didn't even get to check and reply to any emails until late at night. Somewhere in the middle there I started up with symptoms of a gluten reaction, although I can't figure out where or how I poisoned myself, and I know now that that was affecting my emotional equilibrium as well. (Me talking to myself: "Why do I feel so shaky, parent-wise? I'm usually not this shaky. Why am I having trouble breathing?")
This is all to say that not coincidentally, when I sit down to work on my daughter's cardigan this evening, happily watching a football game to which I have no emotional attachment, I'll be ready to begin the picot cast-off.
It's clever, and it minimizes ends to work in (although I think I'm going to need to start the other ginormous ball of yarn during the picot cast-off), but I'm reserving final judgment until I'm done. Sometimes, when I pick up stitches for the edge of a cardigan, I do a row or two and realize I'm not quite happy with it, so I undo it and start again. I can't tell if I'm happy with this or not, since it looks like a drawstring pouch at the moment, and if I have to undo the bazillion stitches that go around this thing, I'm going to be mighty cranky.
At any rate, given my limited knitting time, I think working my way down the body in a week isn't too bad. (The sleeves will fly; stockinette in the round always does.) This is the absolute only project I have going at the moment, although I have fabric spread out on my craft table in a hopeful manner, waiting for a weekend day when we are not flat-out with kid/house/errand/yard stuff. The fabric is hopeful, but sort of in a wistful way...