Things I'm definitely not buying... and one thing I am

Oh dear. I knew my shite photography skills would not capture the quality of this Sundara "marine over willow" laceweight silk, which arrived last night. Her photo is better than mine, but neither really do the colors justice. I opened the box and was, honestly, ravished.

(Oh, and, by the way: I got some Sundara! A little miracle!)

This Aran silky merino in "pine over gold" fares even worse under my shutter finger. The colors are mostly teal, with hints of dark greens and a little brown and gold. And they smell like horses. Indescribably delicious.

However, I am not buying yarn. Not me. No. Neither am I buying magazines (including Martha!), novels, doodads from Etsy, handbags and other bags, shoes, coats, sweaters. Knitting patterns, also no. And no more yarn. I have enough. And I want to trim the pile(s) of things waiting, patiently, maybe with a touch of evil, for my attention. My life essence. It's nearing the end of 2007, and taking stock suggests that once again, I have started more than I have finished. I cannot give myself fully to the Moth while so many other worthy projects are stacked up in view.

Um, neither can I give myself fully to the Moth when I go and recklessly start a Feather-and-fan Comfort Shawl. Dadgummit! I'm infected. See?


Not using any yarn I don't already have, though! From left, it's Manos in Wildflowers; Fleece Artist Basic Merino Socks in, yep, Wildflower; Colinette Tagliatelli in Forest; and Ella Rae Classic in the enigmatically-named "11". Might need a bit of brown in here, and there's some in the stash.


Last week at work I did something rather daring, and brought Moth to a meeting. I paid for this minor act of independence with a case of nerves and some errors in my lace. The upshot is that I'm still not done with the first section. I miscounted repeats, and this week has been a reiterative round of fixes and errors. Still, onward! And my mad knitting insurgency continues at work, but with Feather-and-fan.

There is something I plan on acquiring, though, and it is Sabrina Gschwandtner's book KnitKnit. I saw it yesterday in the Coop, and it's breathtaking. There are no projects in there practical enough for me to knit; had there been I would've run screaming. (No. More. Patterns.) It's inspiration only. I foresee a bigger, madder, more rebellious insurgency in my knitting soon.

(P.S. Locals take note: the entire run of KnitKnit the periodical is available for viewing at the Fogg; you need only make an appointment. Shall we go together?)