I tidied my knitting cupboard t’other day. (Very satisfying. I even sorted through my buttons.) As pleased as I am to be able to find things again, I am just a little bit aghast at the evidence of my
sloth lack of time and forgetfulness changing priorities. Heaps of WIPs and planned projects turned up that I had more or less forgotten about, while never quite meaning to actually ditch them. Three pairs of socks, two of them gifts. One pair handwarmers. One hat and scarf set intended as a gift last Christmas (oops). One maternity cardigan (ha!). One sweater begun pre-pregnancy. One planned shawl (another gift). Whatever happened to that monogamy I used to be so fond of?
Ah well. Commitment ain’t what it used to be. I’m squeezing knitting into whatever tiny corners of time I can find, and frankly if it doesn’t excite me, it’s not going to get made. Much of that list has officially been frogged (although funnily enough, “officially” doesn’t mean “literally”; I pulled the needles out but didn’t actually rip, wanting to be done with all the tidying before Claudia got bored). The sweaters are still living in hope; the hat and scarf set has changed its destined pattern but will still (supposedly) be made for the same recipient; one pair of socks is nearly done and will be finished by, shall we say Christmas? That shawl will probably get made, too. Eventually. (Not by Christmas.) But meanwhile, I’ve reallocated project bags and knitting priorities to more urgent needs: baby knits.
That’s a good excuse, right? Right.