Because my mom sells kitchen supplies for The Pampered Chef, pretty much every viable occasion is met with some sort of kitchen gift. There's already a stash in the garage of boxes for me. This means that Ian is moving out with a small dorm kitchen package from my family (mostly Mom), which is somewhat colorful. Off the top of my head I only remember that the color-coated knife is green and the mini cutting board has pink edges (I insisted; Mom consented on the condition that it clearly be my fault), but I'm pretty sure there are a few other colors too.
And now there's going to be one more. Why? That requires a few stories:
A few weeks ago Ian picked me up for something or other, and I was quite cheerful because I had been "being productive" all morning. When he asked what that meant, I told him it meant cleaning. His immediate reaction was to snort. "Well that's not productive." I admit I was annoyed and frustrated for most of the rest of the car trip. Cleaning? Not productive?
When I started knitting dishrags Ian had no idea how I could possibly destroy something that had taken me so much time. I was never able to adequately explain how they're made to be used and I get great satisfaction from seeing my work put to its proper use.
This last night (past midnight, so today), I wanted a quick fix, a project that wouldn't take very long that could be started and finished and give me a sense of accomplishment. A dishrag would do the trick just fine, so I picked up my insanely bright orange kitchen cotton, and cast on three stitches. I decided to play around and do some calculations while I was at it, so I popped on some TEDTalks and knit away. Here's what happened.
Total Time: 56 minutes, 43 seconds
Stitches: 894 (30 stitches across at widest point, which is bigger than I make for myself but his hands are bigger)
Stitches Per Minute: 15.8
Yards Of Yarn: 22.3
Yards Per Minute: 0.39
Material Cost: $0.32 (Seriously, this stuff is cheap)
Time Cost: $6.77 (At minimum wage of $7.25/hr)
Total Cost: $7.10
For thirty-two cents and one hour of my time, I have a dishrag to add to the gift bag with the following label: "For
I don't anticipate he'll actually use it, but I figure I will when I visit. And it amuses me to put in this gentle jab at him, which I know he'll take in good fun.
So there we go. An hour of my life well-spent, I think! Or maybe that's just because I'm up late.