Brains and fingers...
My fingers grasp that I’m knitting one long edge. I have physical, tangible proof that I never turn a corner or a start a new row.
My brain, however, still strives to ponder the concept. How can this be one long edge that has two edges? If you had to teach this concept in a math class, knitting a moebius loop would be an excellent, hands-on way to do it.
I’ve found three different spellings for the word, by the way. Moebius, mobius, Möbius—which is the correct knitting usage, I wonder?
With an odd number of stitches, the linen stitch pattern zips along seamlessly. I find it takes a bit more effort than I like to swap the yarn from front to back and knit into the front of the appropriate stitches (my needle keeps wanting to knit into the back), but this is a minor challenge. For the most part, the project was the perfect “don’t need to look down much” knitting during the recent New Year’s Day catch-up and new season episode of Sherlock. If you haven’t enjoyed this brilliant PBS series, you owe it to yourself to check it out!
Even though linen stitch has a crucial alternating rhythm, the single edge of odd-numbered stitches ensures that everything lines up exactly where it needs to be. Unless I somehow mess up, in which case all is lost because I have no idea how I’d tink my way back to fix an error. I’d probably need Sherlock’s mastermind to figure it out--after all, he is a knitter.
I’m enjoying the bright color amid these grey cold Chicago winter days. It reminds me blue skies and sparkling waters are somewhere in my future when Spring arrives. Plus, you get all sorts of lovely “feels.” The stitch pattern, combined with the slightly nubby, uneven texture of the yarn, makes for all kinds of tactile goodness.
I’m supremely happy to watch the swaths of blue-green grow between the “sides” of my circ loops. Yarny bliss!