At lunch today, Porter and I had the following conversation:

me: “Last night I broke my f-ing knitting needle.”
Porter: laughing, “how did you do that?”
me: “Why is it funny?”
porter: “Because in any normal conversation, one wouldn’t expect the phrase ‘Last night I broke my f-ing’ to end with ‘knitting needle’.
me: “Huh. You’re right. I’m a dork.”

So last night I set my knitting down on the bed and went to get a glass of water. I guess when I was getting out of bed, I put pressure on one of the needles with my foot and it snapped. So today, the big A and I went to the knitting store* to get new needles. I am kind of glad that it broke because:

1. I am knitting a purse. The body of the purse is finished and I basically knitted in the round on size 4 needles and then flattened the tube out and sewed it across the bottom. However, when making the flap that I am going to use to keep the purse closed, I didn’t have any size 4 straight needles, so I started using size 5 needles. Then I broke one my size 5 needles. So I got size 4 double point needles at the store today.
2. I think that I don’t know how to purl correctly and my knit stictches look all twisted. So I will frog the flap and start again, using the size 4 needles (so the gauge is the same as the rest of the bag) and I can try and figure out how the hell to purl continental-style.

*The big A in the knitting store was funny. Mostly because I have never seen a man in a knitting store, even Winemonkey waited outside for me the one time he went.

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