I think her name was Susan--I'm too lazy to look back at the comments--but she pointed out, after I mentioned that I had completed yet another pair of new socks, that I had two other pair up there on the sidebar entitled, On the Needles, and what about those?
What about them? Well, I guess once you take the time to actually list an item on your sidebar, that means it has been on the needles for, say, about 24 hours at least?
I cast on for those newest striped socks so quickly, I hardly had time to list them at all, much less take note of the ball band or the washing instructions. But let me tell you, the yarn is at least an aran weight, so don't be too appreciative of my knitting speed.
I suppose, in my self-induced dearth of ball-band info, I'll throw the socks into the wash, and if they felt, well, they're witches or non-virgins or whatever reason it is for which those crazy people wearing pointed hats throw people and things into water.
Ok. So I've got something on my mind. Well, actually two. First, the guy, the one who does the loop-d-loop around the cardio area at my gym with Chinese take out? He is officially gone. I asked around and, news is, he did enough weird stuff to be asked to leave the premises. Shoot. Last time I was asked to leave the premises was at the cantina on my 30th birthday--and that was a long, long time ago. Thinking back, I suppose it was a good thing they asked us to leave. By that time, we had been there for over nine hours, and every time someone cracked a half-way decent joke, someone else would slap the table with their hand and the beers would fall off the table and down to the ground. (I argued that the management should have fixed the wobbly table leg so that sort of thing wouldn't happen, but if you're slapping the table hard enough for the beers to go sliding down the table, you should pretty much retire for the evening--even though you're forced to order another round due to all the broken and spilled bottles and such...Unless, of course, if it were a supremely funny joke. If that is the case, all bets are off.)
Anyways.
The second thing that's on my mind is, even though it looks like there are a heck of a lot of On the Needles items, there really aren't. I've pretty much retired the idea of that cotton robe for the time-being. Once I finished and wore the Italian Intruder Shawl, I decided there wasn't much use for a robe. And then those knee socks with the Vesper sock yarn in the Knit and Tonic colorway: That first sock is so terribly cool I don't know if I can stand the ecstasy of another. Yikes, if I even dared to finish a second one, I'd actually have to wear the pair and worry that all that knee-sock bliss would be melted down to "I wore them already," or "I have to wash them" sort of thing.
I honestly don't know if I can stand all the reality amidst all the dreamy stripe-y revelry of it all.
But isn't that just the way the "knitting thing" is? Aren't we all dreaming while we knit? And if we aren't, doesn't knitting just become a job, a chore or maybe a goal or something that goes down okay, but for the life of you, you can't exactly recall the taste or the top note or the exact name on the
label?
This I can remember: Koigu (in any format). I can remember anything Blue Sky Alpacas. I can remember Clapotis. I can
remember Fad-Classic. I can even remember that little A-line thingy I just designed for Girlfriend (although I have conviently forgotten the yarn I used); I can remember Carnival Shawl, too. Of all things, I can remember the Carnival Shawl...
Uh oh. Come to think of it. I better hurry up and finish those four remaining motifs. We're talking four weeks and counting, friends...(I guess I could think of it as one motif for each week. Or maybe one bottle of something-something, or maybe four more chances to start a diet, or maybe four more pair of quickie socks, or . . . just enough time to . . . ?) Oh man. Must. Finish. The. Shawl.