Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Fibre floozy
I admit it. I've been fooling around lately. It's part of the reason I haven't been blogging. I've been ashamed of my behaviour. Maybe it's the spring air, the blue skies. Everything seems promising and new, and oh so tempting.
I've tried to stick to one project. But it's been impossible. I've had a toe-up cotton/wool magic loop sock cast on for ages. But I keep straying. For a while, I managed to commit myself to My Favorite Cardigan.
But after a couple weeks of dating, a sexy little Wanida caught my eye. Her lines and artistry intrigued me. Tempted me. I cast on. I even imagined I could make a long term commitment to her, so I bought some reinforcing yarn for her heels.
One weekend, left alone while my husband and child were out, I had a moment of weakness as I ran into an old flame. There it was, the block of the month blanket, preening itself and showing off its glorious colors. "Let's have a quickie," it whispered. "No commitment, no strings. Just finish off this block." Before I knew what was happening, mercerized cotton was zipping through my fingers and off my needles. In the warm afterglow of the last row of garter stitch border, we agreed to go our separate ways. But we'd definitely need to hook up again next month.
I ran back to Wanida, telling her my fling with the blanket had meant nothing. I spent a few repeats with her, admiring how her pattern was growing. She forgave me.
But oh, the lace! A fellow knitter piqued my interest by showing off all the lace she'd indulged in while down South. The yarn overs! The nupps! The post-blocking glow they both exhibited. The desire overwhelmed me.
So I dug up an old lace scarf I'd neglected. "Hey baby, I'm free tonight. Whaddya say we get together?" After a few rows I remembered why we'd split up. She felt so soft and silky, meriting her name: Silky Alpaca Lace. But she was finicky. A complex pattern that required constant attention. I enjoyed her, but couldn't relax around her.
And so the cycle, the downwards spiral continued. I picked up some silk and other treats at the Knitters Frolic. Kind of a singles club for knitters looking to hook up with new playmates. I dallied with them but couldn't commit to the long term. For a while, Rona stole my heart. I've even made it almost halfway through her.
I could go on. There are more shameful secrets to confess. But you see the problem. And to top it all off I've bought a couple Kama Sutras of lace making... Victorian Lace Today and Knitted Lace of Estonia. I can only imagine what dark path this will lead me.
So if you see me out and about with my cotton sock, please don't tell her about the others. I've finished one half of her and promised her I'll complete her mate soon. But first I need to put some handles on the market bag that's been hanging around for the last 2 weeks.
I've tried to stick to one project. But it's been impossible. I've had a toe-up cotton/wool magic loop sock cast on for ages. But I keep straying. For a while, I managed to commit myself to My Favorite Cardigan.
But after a couple weeks of dating, a sexy little Wanida caught my eye. Her lines and artistry intrigued me. Tempted me. I cast on. I even imagined I could make a long term commitment to her, so I bought some reinforcing yarn for her heels.
One weekend, left alone while my husband and child were out, I had a moment of weakness as I ran into an old flame. There it was, the block of the month blanket, preening itself and showing off its glorious colors. "Let's have a quickie," it whispered. "No commitment, no strings. Just finish off this block." Before I knew what was happening, mercerized cotton was zipping through my fingers and off my needles. In the warm afterglow of the last row of garter stitch border, we agreed to go our separate ways. But we'd definitely need to hook up again next month.
I ran back to Wanida, telling her my fling with the blanket had meant nothing. I spent a few repeats with her, admiring how her pattern was growing. She forgave me.
But oh, the lace! A fellow knitter piqued my interest by showing off all the lace she'd indulged in while down South. The yarn overs! The nupps! The post-blocking glow they both exhibited. The desire overwhelmed me.
So I dug up an old lace scarf I'd neglected. "Hey baby, I'm free tonight. Whaddya say we get together?" After a few rows I remembered why we'd split up. She felt so soft and silky, meriting her name: Silky Alpaca Lace. But she was finicky. A complex pattern that required constant attention. I enjoyed her, but couldn't relax around her.
And so the cycle, the downwards spiral continued. I picked up some silk and other treats at the Knitters Frolic. Kind of a singles club for knitters looking to hook up with new playmates. I dallied with them but couldn't commit to the long term. For a while, Rona stole my heart. I've even made it almost halfway through her.
I could go on. There are more shameful secrets to confess. But you see the problem. And to top it all off I've bought a couple Kama Sutras of lace making... Victorian Lace Today and Knitted Lace of Estonia. I can only imagine what dark path this will lead me.
So if you see me out and about with my cotton sock, please don't tell her about the others. I've finished one half of her and promised her I'll complete her mate soon. But first I need to put some handles on the market bag that's been hanging around for the last 2 weeks.
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