Last night, I remembered that I like to knit. Before you start assuming that I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, just bear with me.
I've been working on a GORGEOUS garment for Sandi, and I'm making good progress on it. However, it's Obligatory Knitting now, and it has a deadline. Whoosh! The slightest utterance that something has become Obligatory Knitting sucks the joy out of knitting like fire sucks air out of a room.
I could metaphorically suffocate in Obligatory Knitting. Thank heavens life isn't a metaphor.
(Or is it?)
While the OKSandi Sweater (OKSS for short) is truly lovely, it is not all-purpose knitting. While the pattern offers elegant simplicity, the piece has gotten too large to carry around, and the rows are staggeringly long. Are-we-there-yet long, even.
When I've finished two of the impossibly long rows (one pattern repeat), I measure the length. Nothing ever changes. It's Black Hole knitting. (This may be why I don't finish sweaters very often. Just maybe.)
Last night we had guests over to watch the election results. There was eating, drinking, and a good time was had by all. So, I worked on my second Mushroom Caps sock, which is knitting that is much better suited for just such an occasion.
I finished MOST of the foot. (Not pictured above, that's the first sock and the humble beginnings of the second sock.) The whole time, all I could think was how much I love knitting with handspun, and how delightfully short each round was. I started planning my next sock, even. (Given my exhausting work schedule, I haven't been planning much knitting, which is the first sign that I'm starting to lose my knitting mojo.)
Now I am hearing the siren song of some merino/seacell that is telling me it wants to be a pair of aran socks.
Once I finish these socks, of course. And the OKSS.