While on a whirlwind trip to Las Vegas to attend my nephew's wedding (we were there for about 26 hours total), I came face-to-face with a number of deep-seated beliefs about myself that turn out not to be true. They are:
The yarn had finally come for the Christmas stockings for this nephew’s bride and for his sister’s husband, so I took that project. The first stocking was half done, and I thought I could easily finish it by the time we got to Vegas. Enter Fallacy #1:
Unfortunately, the 16" needle that worked so well for the stocking cuff did not work so well after I decreased 10 stitches for the leg shaping. Trying to force that short needle into a perverted version of Magic Loop resulted in the work becoming tighter and tighter, until it was as dense as cardboard. The sock circumference was small enough now that I didn’t think even an orange could be squeezed into it.
Clearly I needed two needles, and probably in a size larger. My knitting has become a lot tighter since I knitted the original stockings six or eight years ago. I had gone up one needle size, but it didn’t seem to be enough.
And now I came up against Fallacy #2:
Because I want to save my credit cards for Christmas shopping, I am avoiding yarn stores right now. When I planned our trip to Las Vegas for my nephew’s wedding, I therefore didn’t research any yarn shops. Not only that, but we arrived near midnight. You can get something to eat in Vegas any time of the day or night, but yarn shops tend to open at more conservative hours.
However, when I worked at The Needlepoint Joint a customer had told me about a good shop in Las Vegas:
The next morning I found Gail Knits in the phone book, and checked at the concierge desk to see how far away it was. We had two hours before we needed to be at the wedding, but it was important to be on time. I had made us miss my niece’s wedding a year an a half ago because in a post-nuclear, hypothyroidic fog I had directed us to the wrong Mormon temple.* My brother only has two children, so this was my last chance to make good. We were at MGM Grand. Gail is at 9012 W Sahara. Was there time to go to Gail for needles?
Enter Fallacy #3:
The concierge looked up the address on MapQuest. MapQuest said it would take 16 minutes to get to Gail. It wouldn’t even be 10:00 a.m. by then, so we could stop and get something to eat on the way.
Sixteen minutes into our trip we were just turning off The Strip onto Sahara. Half an hour later we were wolfing down McDonald’s for breakfast across the street from Gail’s. I was beginning to worry about making it all the way back across town by 11:30.
“I’ll hurry,” I told Paul. “I’ll just grab the needles and come right out.” There was no comment from Paul as I crashed into Fallacy #4:
I did try. I glanced around only enough to notice that the needles were in the very back of the shop. I didn’t look at this
I bought my needles and ran out of the store . . . OK, I’m lying. I stared long and hard at a $28 skein of ribbon yarn in the best red ever, but as I said, I’m saving my $$ for Christmas shopping. Sharman says Emerald needs sweaters, so I did some quick Christmas shopping:
Despite stop-and-go traffic through a construction zone, we made it to the wedding on time. The Mormon temple bears little resemblance to the Little Chapel of Love. About the only concession they've made to the spirit of Las Vegas was installing a player organ that churned its way through hymns and children’s songs as the guests filed in. We looked around for Elvis, but he never showed.
My mother and I frogged the Christmas stocking back to the spot where the decreases began, and by the time I got off the plane last night at 2:30 a.m. I was ready to start the heel. This is when I discovered Fallacy #5:
Check this out:
I don’t think it’s an iota bigger than before it was frogged. Oh well. Maybe Conrad doesn’t like oranges.
* I think Utah is the only place where there are enough Mormons that you can be in the right town but at the wrong Mormon temple.