Last night was something. Querido and I stayed awake to the end, and three short hours later were awake again trying to figure out what to do with this day.
Not surprisingly, every stitch knitted last night had to be pulled out. For the project in question I am lever knitting, which is still a new style for me, and as when I knit continental (pick), I find that I have a hard time not dropping yarnovers on the following purl row. It has been years since I ever worried about that as a thrower, making this regression doubly frustrating.
Twitter was the minefield I expected today, but I was surprised to see reactions roiling on Instagram as well. My feed is mostly knitters, designers, and yarn companies, not politicos, hence my surprise. Autumn de Wilde blew me away with a series of early 20th century images of suffragists, but the overwhelming reaction of the morning was shock and dismay. Around lunchtime, I tentatively checked in again, and was so heartened to watch the knitters and makers I follow collectively gather their breath and turn to the work of comforting and reaffirming one another. These are good, kind people, and I am so glad I can surround myself with them, even if only virtually.
Keep calm and carry yarn.