I will thrum no more, forever

This is a paraphrase of Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce. Here you see my abortive attempt at thrums. This is the ribbing and eight rows of a thrummed mitten. All done perfectly and well. At least I think so, but I've never done this before so what do I know.

In any event, after this terrific endeavour at thrums, it was bedtime. So I slept.

I awoke the next day with pain in my shoulders. Aching, dull pain that wasn't serious enough to take medicines, but enough to make me cranky and irritable. (Children, be quiet! I'm not normally cranky and irritable! Really!!)

At first, I thought it was because I slept on my side at night ... I couldn't figure out why I would suddenly be sore. Did the futon lose all comfort overnight? And here I thought it would be a gradual process. Anyway, I thought about picking up the thrummed mitten again ... and with the first attempt to tear the roving into thrum-sized pieces, my shoulders REALLY hurt. I stopped.

The next day, my shoulders were feeling ... um ... better. After I had spent another night sleeping on my sides. And not thrumming. The second day was even better.

My conclusion? Thrumming is not gonna become my passion. Sorry to all my relatives who were hoping for warm winter woolen, thrummed mitts. Just can't do it. At least I can still knit.

(Was that sound a bunch of heart-felt sighs of relief?)