We’ve got the dreamer’s disease
And so my first Ravelympic project crosses the finish line. It’s just one dishcloth. But as I continue to slowly work my way through my second stranded colorwork mitt, stitch by fingering-weight stitch, it’s good to have something that’s a bit more of a sprint.
The Ballband is the workhorse of dishcloths. The pattern’s been around since before anyone can
remember. Peaches ‘n’ Creme cotton comes with it on the label (hence the name).
So in a way it’s nothing special. But c’mon. If you can’t see the beauty in the quotidian, then you have no business knitting at all — isn’t that what it’s all about? Here observe the way the slipped stitches work with the slight rolling tendency of the reverse stockingette stripes, corralling them into textured, three-dimensional “bricks.” A pattern like this could go on forever, all color and changes and stitches receding and stitches pushing forward.
Best of all, it feels like something anyone can do, any day. It’s an accomplishment so ordinary that it’s within everyone’s reach. The materials are dirt cheap. The pleasure of the metal needles clicking, the pattern emerging, is a quiet, everyday, secret sort of joy. And once one is done, the next one can follow right on its heels.
So even though this doesn’t represent a challenge, the way the Endpaper Mitts do, this Ravelympic project is still hugely satisfying. I had wanted to knit this dishcloth, but my works-in-progress — the socks and gloves and hats — were getting in the way. It’s thanks to Ravelympics that I cleared my plate and made room for the things I was itching to try.
The hard ones, and the easy ones. The ones that are on top of the mountain, and the ones that are right in front of you.