Come Monday Morning

I had a marvelous weekend working on lace. Really marvelous. Only one mistaken row, where the yo's were out of order to rip back for, but nothing to make me rethink my decision to skip a lifeline. The pattern has wrong side rows that only are purl and garter stitch so that is my lifeline. I love the yarn, I love the design. Still in heaven.

Lest I wax on rhapsodic just a little too long, this morning I cast on for a dishcloth. The bachelor pad (established a couple weeks ago by my eldest and second sons) is in need of dishcloths. Not that they use a lot of dishes, nor that they have a lot of dishes, but everybody needs something to wipe up with at some point. I'm knitting dishcloths this morning.

A dishcloth is sort of like the socks of the kitchen world. Socks are the utlimate in handknit clothing, so simple and basic that they are profound.

So is a dishcloth. Nothing wipes up better than a knitted or crocheted dishcloth. Nothing soaks up spills better. Besides my lone knitted duster attempt, dishcloths are my lone household useful article (Doilies don't count. They are lacy but mildly less than useful in the kitchen) I'm not a kitchen kitsch sort of person but I am a huge fan of dishcloths.

Dishcloths at 20 paces. That is my knitting for this morning. Here is hoping I can whip a simple one up in one day.