If I did not know better, I would swear that these sleeves are bound and determined to drive me nuts.
It is an optical illusion. I knit, and knit, and knit some more. And what do I have? Stripes. Stripes on a sweater sleeve that look no longer than what I had before I started knitting.
I have counted the edges. There are fewer stitches on the needle every six rows. I must be making progress, really, after all if one knits and knits and knits – (well, let us not talk about the knots and tinks) then the sleeve should be growing?
I managed to finish up the next section of Pagoda. Doesn’t look like much here does it?
I am listening my was through the Miles Vorkosigan series (Lois McMaster Bujold). They are twisty enough themselves that they complement the knitting.