I'm still knitting, but all my projects right now add up to one long snore, at least in the telling. There's a little sweater here. And a hat. And a striped scarf I'm making from what looks like Noro Kureyon
but is actually a budget-priced imitator I got at Threadbear–Kaleidoscope from Elegant Yarns. It doesn't have the ineffable shimmer of Kureyon, but it's pure wool and it cost eight bucks for 174 yards. I can deal with a lower shimmer rating for eight bucks.
I know what's going on. I've switched temporarily from knitting as thrill to knitting as anesthetic. I already have a full bucket of thrills, thank you. These include:
- The thrill of having a new book on the shelves. (Or at least, according to my latest intelligence, on the way to the shelves–look for it early next week.)
- The thrill of traveling to far-away places to meet wonderful knitters who want me to sign the book.
- The thrill of hurtling through space to the next signing praying my airplane will not suddenly plummet to earth.
- The thrill of knowing that in the course of any given signing I will fail to recognize at least half the wonderful knitters I've seen before. (Among my friends I am notorious for this. I forget the names and faces of my own kin if it's been more than six months since our last meeting. "Why yes, we've been introduced. I'm your mother.")
- The thrill of trying to make a living in the midst of the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression by drawing funny pictures of sheep.
But it's just for the moment. I'm looking at you, Wedding Ring Shawl.
Man Flesh for Sale
No, not mine. But the Guys with Yarn calendar is here.