She left the web, she left the loom,There's nothing like the start of a new year to set the wheels in motion for great things. I was at the gym this morning, and there are a few new faces there. I looked around and also saw a lot of "regulars," too. I never get annoyed when there are new people at the gym; it's exciting to see people who are trying new things. The one thing we all had in common this morning was that we were all huffing and puffing our way through our workouts after a couple of weeks of holiday revelry.
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
--from The Lady of Shalott, Alfred, Lord Tennyson
January 1st always levels the playing field.
We arrived back at our house on Vancouver Island late on New Year's Eve. There were some fireworks going off as we dragged our suitcases into the house, but we were far too tired to notice them. It was lovely to finally get into bed and get some sleep.
I had great plans for the next few days. I'm off work until Monday, so I thought I'd just dive into a whole new project...
... except all I've accomplished so far is this:
I think people who knit or crochet are the sort of people who have difficulty sitting still. It's been a long, long, long time since I've been without a project on the needles. I don't know what I'd call it if I was sitting around without a project on the go. Maybe I'd call it "what everyone else is doing," but I really don't know, because it's been years since I was in that position.
Case in point: I was working away on my Cappio Fingerless Gloves earlier this week while we were still in Winnipeg. As I was nearing their completion, I actually consciously put them down for a while and did other things because I was afraid I'd have nothing to knit on for the rest of my visit. I know that's weird, but it really was a concern. What would I do if I ran out of projects to work on?
Luckily, I have friends who understand my afflictions.
I met Linette for lunch on Monday for our annual holiday get-together. We found a nice coffee shop with a blazing fire, which started out being lovely, but ended up sort of... oppressive (such a large fire for a building that already had central heating). So, she turned to me and said something to the effect of, "So... about your yarn problem..."
So, we packed up and set off in search of other things to do.
And sometime between then and now, I ended up with this skein of yarn. It's a skein of Alegria, a sock yarn from Manos Del Uruguay. Linette was kind enough to wind it for me, so as to avoid any unnecessary stretches of non-knitting time that might be taken up by me having to wind it by hand:
The reasons for this sudden stall in my knitting mojo started out pretty reasonable. I finished my Cappio Gloves. I'm really happy with them, especially with the thumbs I added to them:
And I found I had about half a ball left of that yarn, which seemed like a lot to just leave sitting there rolling around in my project bag. So, I decided to use it up and make this little cowl. I used Julia Allen's free pattern called Candle Flame Cowl, which is a super clever pattern with an easy stitch repeat to remember. It was a quick knit. I'm sure it only took a couple of hours in all to finish. I bound off the last stitches the evening before the day we left. I blocked it that night, and it was dry by the morning. That Malabrigo Rios sure blocks nicely:
After that, I got out that skein of Alegria and tried to cast on for a new project. "Tried" is the operative word here, because everything I cast on for just didn't look right. I tucked the ball back into my project bag with a sigh. While we travelled, I kept myself busy with this magazine I picked up at the same shop I bought the Alegria. It's a wonderful magazine:
Just look at those fancy penguins. Those neck feathers look just like the furry collar of an evening coat. Maybe they're going to the opera:
We got home, and the next morning, I got up and said, "Ok... now I'll start a new project." I looked over this yarn, which has been sitting waiting for me to work on it:
I had planned to make a version Carol Feller's Killorglin out of it, except (of course) I wanted to make a few changes to it. I got to work searching through stitch patterns and photos. I spent ages re-imagining it in my head, making sketches, looking carefully at the yarn... and then, I was finally ready to get started...
... but then I realized I couldn't download the pattern. It's only available in print. Stalled again.
So, with the book now on order from the library, I thought I'd try for another project. I pulled down these balls of Berroco Folio, which have been watching me from on top of the bookshelf in the living room, begging me silently to make something with them. I had the perfect pattern in mind...
I am cursed.
I don't know what you would call this. It's not quite "startitis," where you start a bunch of projects and never finish them. What do you call it when you just can't get started at all?
I think I'll call it tea time. Maybe a cuppa will get the juices flowing again.