Waiting for The Little One

Some glitch in the adoption process means that we're still waiting on the little one who was supposed to be part of a friend's family last Thursday. It feels to me like waiting for a baby to be born, except in the case of a pregnancy, there isn't so much of a possibility that the baby won't arrive at some point, ready to be loved. I'm irritated. These are wonderful people who want so much to share their lives with this little guy. They've spent weekends with him. Afternoons holding him. He's part of their family in spirit if not in reality, and their friends are waiting to embrace the collective three of them and hold them up and say, "See? See? Good things still do happen." We're not giving up hope. We can't actually. There's so much humanity involved now.

The hoodie for the little one is done, and I've been going back and forth about posting a picture. It seems premature now, even though a week ago things seemed so certain. But, even in the face of this snafu, whatever it is, our friends carry on and hope that this will work out. So here it is.



The details: It's the smallest size of the Santa Cruz Hoodie from Knit Two Together by Mel Clark and Tracey Ullman (yes, that Tracey Ullman), made of GGH Aspen in Navy and Burnt Sienna. I used a US 10 needle for the edging and a 10.5 for the rest, and it knit up at 3 stitches and 4 rows to the inch.

This one knit up quickly. How quickly? We got the yarn last Tuesday afternoon, I worked for about an hour and a half Tuesday night, I was at work all day Wednesday, but knit part of Thursday morning, and was at a conference Friday and Saturday all day, and still had it done by the time I got back from the conference Saturday at 11 pm. And I knit a hat during the final keynote speech. So, VERY quickly.

I am without energy to do anything but sit and stare at the screen (after the conference, then the Etiquette Dinner (more later on that) and Founders' Day today), so you'll hear from me again after I get rid of the purple and yellow circles under my eyes.