So last week my much-needed swift and ball winder arrived*, freeing me to tackle all those gorgeous skeins recently relocated from Stash (the shop) to stash (the hidden cavities around Chez Robynn). I also finally took delivery of more Gecko food (having stalled when I ran out of Kureyon). What do you think I’m working on? Reviving Gecko? The long-awaited Clapotis?
Or maybe long-awaited socks? I have the yarn.
And I have — I can’t tell you how this pleases me — my very own personalised sock pattern, all calculations done for my own fair feet** by a very lovely customer who’s never even met me. I tell you, when I started this business, I wasn’t expecting such perks. Thanks, Anne!
But maybe I should be finishing the Fair Isle cardi I’ve recently begun.***
I like to be faithful to what I start, you see.
On the other hand, I’ve also been given some little treats recently, by non-knitting friends.
I’m always so touched when unbelievers give me yarn. It’s like they’re saying, “I don’t get it, but I know this is important to you.” And they try to think like a knitter, to choose something cool from a bunch of stuff that really doesn’t mean anything to them at all. It’s so sweet.
Anyway. Cardigan? Gecko? Socks? Clap? Something fluffy?
Or, er, Christmas knitting.
Sorry Anne. I’m going over to the deadline side. This is actually quite new for me; I’ve recently knitted my first scarf, so in previous years only very privileged folk indeed were treated to knitted gifts. Those gifts being full-on sweaters and such, y’see. This year, I’ve decided to make scarves for as many people as possible,**** but being new to this, I’m not really sure how long that will take. Best to start now, then.
The Tilli Thomas, above, will be followed by something a bit wider and lacier out of this:
And another little lacy stole thing out of this:
And there must also be some good manly knitting for my dad and his partner, and some more lacy goodness for my mother (yarn previously shown), and so on, and so on.
And when that’s all done, if I can face another scarf, I shall be rewarding myself with this.
For which I cannot be held responsible, because absolutely everybody in the shop was insisting that I had to have it, it’s my colours. Who am I to argue with absolutely everybody?
* Ordered about a day before I heard about the pretty swifts at Posh Yarn, which would have saved me money and all… but I’m not bitter. Aside: why are all ball winders so damn ugly? I have resisted them for years because I just couldn’t bear their plastic horror. But I caved, of necessity. I need me a tame carpenter to make a wooden one.
** Well… somewhat fair. Pale, anyway.
*** Readers who have been paying attention may note that I posted a picture of some cabling, with a note about planning a “beaded lace jacket” (no cabling), and now I’m talking about Fair Isle. So? Don’t tell me you don’t change your mind.
**** A decision that *might* have arisen entirely as an excuse to sample the various silky indulgences on offer at that Den of Budgetary Iniquity. I couldn’t possibly say.