two knits of ivory

My ability to ignore the obvious is monumental sometimes. The irony in my last post about keeping things in moderation, while showcasing two large gift projects cast on in the same week, took days to grasp. Not the brightest bulb on the tree, I am. But moving right along, harnessing the willpower to clean out my knitting basket last month has finally borne its fruit. One of the projects I completed as part of this undertaking is a pair of cable rib socks in one of my most coveted colorways, Lorna Lace's Gold Hill (details ravelled ). Started as an easy Xmas travel project, on December 22, they lingered and lingered and then lingered some more on their needles. Almost two months passed before they were complete and when they were done, I questioned if I hadn't seen the last of any sock knitting for the forseable future. (I was pretty disappointed by this yarn. In more than one location I found what I believe are clumps of white nylon.) The ennui surrounding the project was

My mind's been laid up for a few weeks. Two days after my last post I succumbed to a full week with the flu (again!). This time it ended with a nasty mental diversion à la The Yellow Wallpaper . The idea of conversing with the world, even in the one-way medium of a blog, was anathema. Knitting was rare. Yet, my return to knitting was hindered not just by depression, I think, but a lack of motivation. It wasn't until I realized I should get cracking on some baby knits for a little bun in the oven of my husband's best friend's wife, that I was inspired to cast on and cast on with a vengeance. And so the daily knitting routine reasserted itself to much personal glee. In retrospect, my exclamation a few weeks back about streamlining my gift knitting was short-sighted. The bad choices I made in allowing the gift knitting to take over last fall was reinterpreted falsely. I am propelled, as a knitter, by gift knitting. Giving it up dried up my motivation to knit fo