I may have fallen down the rabbit hole at Little Knits in the past week. Not just once, but twice. In fairness to me, I was starting to slip, and then my sister slipped, so we took a couple of combined tumbles. So even though it's not all mine, there's still a couple of boxes of yarn on their way here, and that always makes me look around at what's already here. Gotta make room for the new arrivals.
Around here is a complete sty right now - we're about to embark on a renovation journey, having recently completed a house purchase journey, so there are property listings and mortgage paperwork sort of strewn all over the table in the living room - I need to have a filing party somewhat soon - and boxes of things for the new place like bathroom fixtures and a new bed frame are also being piled up wherever we can find the space. Add this chaos to the fact that while I appreciate clean and tidy places, I lack the sort of diligence required to maintain a clean and tidy space, meaning I tend to leave my stuff in the places I usually haunt, so there's also a lot of yarn in the area surrounding the living room table. A couple of things are all knit up and waiting for blocking, some stuff is in progress, some is wound up and waiting.
Like I said, though, I did some assessing of the current state of affairs, and when I moved a pile of real estate paperwork off the couch, I discovered this underneath:
That's a nearly complete sweater right there. Why did it get buried?
Because I'm playing yarn chicken with it.
Apparently, the game of yarn chicken can go two ways. Sometimes, it makes me especially obsessive with a project - I try to knit faster, which really means I knit on it whenever possible, as if it were possible to finish the project early and in doing so not run out of yarn. As if yarn has a lifetime based on days elapsed since cast on, and not actual yardage. But other times, when I start to worry about running short, I go the other way - I back right off, almost as if I'm trying to give the yarn a bit of time to grow so that I will be sure to have enough to finish.
Of course, if you think about it, neither approach makes any sense whatsoever. But there they are.
There's very little left on this sweater - it's a short-sleeved one, the pattern only has me work about 12 rounds on each sleeve, and I think I'll do another 1/4" or so on the body before doing an inch or so of ribbing. Really, I should pick this up again and just get through it - I could plausibly get it done before classes resume next week!
Besides, then I would feel less guilty about having started to wind up this:
At the very least, I should probably finish the purple sweater before I cast on the brown.
Maybe.
Around here is a complete sty right now - we're about to embark on a renovation journey, having recently completed a house purchase journey, so there are property listings and mortgage paperwork sort of strewn all over the table in the living room - I need to have a filing party somewhat soon - and boxes of things for the new place like bathroom fixtures and a new bed frame are also being piled up wherever we can find the space. Add this chaos to the fact that while I appreciate clean and tidy places, I lack the sort of diligence required to maintain a clean and tidy space, meaning I tend to leave my stuff in the places I usually haunt, so there's also a lot of yarn in the area surrounding the living room table. A couple of things are all knit up and waiting for blocking, some stuff is in progress, some is wound up and waiting.
Like I said, though, I did some assessing of the current state of affairs, and when I moved a pile of real estate paperwork off the couch, I discovered this underneath:
That's a nearly complete sweater right there. Why did it get buried?
Because I'm playing yarn chicken with it.
Apparently, the game of yarn chicken can go two ways. Sometimes, it makes me especially obsessive with a project - I try to knit faster, which really means I knit on it whenever possible, as if it were possible to finish the project early and in doing so not run out of yarn. As if yarn has a lifetime based on days elapsed since cast on, and not actual yardage. But other times, when I start to worry about running short, I go the other way - I back right off, almost as if I'm trying to give the yarn a bit of time to grow so that I will be sure to have enough to finish.
Of course, if you think about it, neither approach makes any sense whatsoever. But there they are.
There's very little left on this sweater - it's a short-sleeved one, the pattern only has me work about 12 rounds on each sleeve, and I think I'll do another 1/4" or so on the body before doing an inch or so of ribbing. Really, I should pick this up again and just get through it - I could plausibly get it done before classes resume next week!
Besides, then I would feel less guilty about having started to wind up this:
At the very least, I should probably finish the purple sweater before I cast on the brown.
Maybe.
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