I have a serious case of startitis. This is not my standard m.o. I’m a serial monogamist when it comes to needles and skeins. I pick a project and slog it through to the end. Okay, sometimes there’s a little socks on the side, but that’s in the name of a travel project.
“So where are you off to? Someplace fun?”
“A yarn conference.”
“A... yarn conference...”
“So... would that be a yes then?”
It’s hard to explain Stitches to unindoctrinated. You can’t easily explain to your boss that in a mere two-hour’s drive you’re going to be in a land where picking up a skein of yarn, burying your face in it, and taking a big whiff is a perfectly excepted ritual before purchase. He’d think you were nuts. More nuts.
We’re almost down to it. I’ve got one week, less a handful of hours, to keep my 2010 resolutions.
You folks at home are thinking that I’m in dire need of new calendar, right? I’m a week past the start Chinese New Year, a full two months past the standard Gregorian calendar, and the groundhog already said spring is on the way. Fair points.
When I turned the calendar page to November, I performed the ritual count of weeks left until Christmas, looked at the to-do list in my head, and had my festive pre-season panic attack. How did it get so late in the year and why is the finished-project basket so empty? I glared at my spinning wheel. Seductive little tramp. I resolutely turned my back on the singles waiting to be plied and turned toward my knitting needles.
When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.
-Paulo Cuelo, The Alchemist.
Luke requested an ewok costume early in the year and remained adamantly stuck to that idea, and to the fact that the ewok should have a bow and arrow. Shawn and I did a divide-and-conquer on this one. He played with sticks and I wrestled with fur. Behold the ewok!
At some point in early June, I suddenly knew what I had to be for Halloween this year and I was bouncing with excitement to get going. This is early for me. Perhaps not in the scheming and initial design sense, but certainly for the execution phase. When that little serendipitous inspiration struck me, I was entrenched in sewing ballet costumes for a performance under the direction of another, and while the costume director was doing a great job, the perverse part of me was bristling to color outside the lines.
If you like to knit...
And if you like to knit socks...
And if you like to read gothic romantic horror/sci-fi novels while knitting foot garments made in the image of the monsters these books contain...
May I please direct you to a Ravelry group I very recently co-launched, Frankensocks?
And if you don’t do like to do these things, you may now return to your sad little gray-scale lives.
It’s high August. Full moon over the corn fields. Tomato trucks bouncing down the highway on my left and right, on my way home from ballet class. It’s twilight at 8 p.m. and 85º. Pulling on to my little circle of a street, everybody’s outside. Folks are watering the plants out front and kids are zooming around on their bikes. Down the way, there’s music pouring out of a parked car and neatly paired up teens are practicing a dance in the street for what can only be a quinceañera.