Christmas Knitting at the Rubicon

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all on t.v.
Were the crappiest programs you ever did see.
I sat with my knitting wrapped up in a chair
Working on presents with speed and with care.
When what should my wondering eye should appear
My Christmas knitting list. Crap! There went my cheer.
Only fifteen pair of socks in every dimension,
A scarf, some mittens. With seven days to go, I am still in contention.

Unlike my counter part the Harlot, I am not so organized as to have a schedule. I prefer to knit through the pre-Christmas season armed only with a list and my wits. I consider Christmas knitting the triathlon of knitting events. Why you might ask?

Christmas knitting is the triathlon of knitting events because it is an endurance sport with three phases. The first phase is determining who is knit worthy and who is not. This can be difficult because everyone believes they are knit worthy. Alas, nothing could be more untrue. More about that in a different post.

The second phase is matching the knit worthy with the project best suited for them. This phase tend to be most fraught with angst. Pay attention because what follows is some hard won Rubicon Wisdom….. There is no knit gift equity, so stop trying to decide if a shawl equals a pair of socks. I could go into the whole, “Well, if the projects all require the same yardage then you will have shown your Christmas love equally.” While this may be true to fellow knitters, the uninitiated don’t really get that socks can have the same yardage as a scarf or a small shawl, and thus, theoretically, require the same time to knit them. I credit the knit gift perception of disparity with same ability to twist all normal rules of logic as the whole that project knit in any other color or yarn will cease to be the project in the picture, and, therefore, I will not knit it in any other color or yarn phenomenon.

The third phase is where many a good natured and well intentioned knitter dies on the course. I am reminded of the Ironman competition I saw. The competitors were on the last phase – the marathon. One of the competitors, after swimming and biking through lovely Hawaii, threw up right there on the road as he was running. Yeah! ‘Cause it’s not a real competition until somebody pukes or collapses. I digress. Instead of throwing up, knitters become prone to all night knitting jags fueled equally by caffeine and alcohol, only to fall apart in the car on the way to the gift exchange and maiming themselves with a knitting needle to provide some explanation as to why some one is getting ¾ of a pair of socks this year.

My plan is to game the system by taking my knitting to the mandatory staff meeting and then taking a short vacation before Christmas. I will let you know how that works out for me. I am afraid that the hot tub may beckon like the sirens of old and I will fall prey to its charms.