I actually did it! Sometimes I impress myself. Hubby’s socks were finished, wrapped and gifted. And, as opposed to the Great Sock Fiasco of Christmas 2005, these he was duly impressed with (Not a hint of pink in these babies!) and wore them the rest of the day- and the next. Sigh of relief. DD#2 baked him a cake. Pizza was ordered. Party ensued. (Note: cake decorated with Whoopers and Superman gummies. DD#2 felt this was important to point out.)
It is cold. I am cold. I will be cold until May. That’s part of life and I know it. But I will fight it. My hands get so cold typing sometimes, that I decided it is high time I did something about it. I flipped through patterns and dug through yarn and came up with this combo: wool yarn dye with pink lemonade (warm and springy) and Fetching from Knitty. I cast on, knit, knit, knit, knit, knit, bind off, try on, decide nope. Too much finger still showing. My fingers deserve to be warm, too. Shall I make these Fetching fingerless gloves into fetching mittens and try something else? Undecided, but I am admiring this yarn.
I’m up to 7 pattern repeats on the shawl, the fall Sweater is blocking, a couple more hats completed. Another MDK kimono on the needles, but that's all upstairs. What to do, what to do. I clean out my knitting bag. I find a baby sweater set that needs to be bagged and donated; a sleeveless baby sweater that may never be finished because I don’t really like the yarn; 2 Kiri shawls I started and abandoned; a striped wool sweater I must have started years ago (I know because they are on 14” straights. I don’t use 14” straights.) and obviously didn’t check gauge- 10 inches ease is a bit overkill; several partial balls of yarn from FOs and other abandoned projects; and a kajillion knitting needles. This is where all my #8 circulars have been hiding! Now the bag is sadly empty. The sides are caving in. It looks hungry. The sleeveless sweater goes in the bottom just in case the world undergoes a massive transformation and babies suddenly start liking scratchy, sparkly yarn. The shawls are next- I really do want to finish these. One day. This does not sate its heavy appetite. (I have a very large knitting bag.)
It needs a sweater- a full sized, adult, long sleeve, maybe even bulky sweater- to stuff in its gaping maw. My hand reaches for a stack of magazines to look through, but I slap it away. I will be strong and finish something I've started. Mostly because if I don’t get some of those UFOs out of the way, I’ll never be able to get to the Christmas decorations. In an old, torn Christmas gift bag, I find it. The most expensive sweater I have ever (almost) knit. I was in a yarn shop in Hendersonville, NC. The first yarn shop I’d been in in years, and the very first since my hobby became an obsession. There on the wall hung a soft, squishy, subtly striped, turtleneck sweater, and I thought as compulsive knitters do, I must have that, I must knit it and wear it while I knit more sweaters. The sales lady helps me pick out the colors of Alpaca Boucle I want. My stomach audibly growls as I pull out my checkbook, knowing that it will suffer the consequences of my hasty but inescapable decision.
Ah, memories. I gently place the sweater in my bag, squeezing each skein to luxuriate in it’s alcaca-y goodness, ignoring the fact that boucle is a booger to knit because you can’t see the stitches or tell if you’ve dropped one in the dark, which I why I never finished it to begin with.
Much better I think, although there is still a little room for something else if need be. After all, I did just order yarn for Christmas knitting. And I should start another baby sweater and more hats. And a scarf. And a sweater for Hubby. And one for my sister.