I know I promised you photos of Icarus on Friday, but that's before I realized that I cannot find my camera anywhere. I know I packed it to go to Victoria, but I have no recollection of seeing it after that.
And Mitchell was away in Winnipeg, and then in Portland, Oregon, until last night, and the tricky devil had taken his camera with him -- ergo, no pics for you.
Probably just as well, since I didn't finish as expected yesterday. When you get up to 550+ stitches per row, just getting through a single row is a bit of a marathon; and casting off that many stitches using the lace cast-off (p2, slip them back on to the left needle, p2tog, p1, slip them back to the left needle, p2tog, repeat until you want to commit suicide from sheer boredom) is a bit of a challenge, time-wise.
Anyway, the triumphant moment didn't arrive until about noon today, after a feverish morning of knitting and drinking coffee.
Oh, and then there was the blocking. Let me just say this: I am very, very glad I did not listen to my inner voice that kept urging me to do "just a couple of extra pattern repeats, so it'll be big enough." If I had, I would have been able to use this sucker as a car-cosy. As it is, it's bigger than any lace shawl I've knit to date (not that there've been a lot, but still). The upstairs spare bedroom is currently off-limits to the rest of the family, except those who wish to stand in the doorway and gaze in wonderment at the glory that is Icarus.
Yeah, okay, it's lying on a playmat, full of wires and pins, but it's still pretty damn glorious. If I do say so myself.