Bet you thought I was gone for good

I don't think I've taken a day off from knitting since the day I learned how to use string and sticks to make beautiful (or...at least interesting) things. Even when I don't have yarn in my hands, there's a good chance that at least some part of my thought process is devoted to a skein somewhere. (Generally a skein that has yet to make it into my stash....much to the chagrin off everyone involved.)

Unfortunately, this means that knitting often takes precedence over my other non-academic activities (it would probably displace the academic ones as well if not for the fact that I learned how to knit while reading). For the past few weeks I've been busy preparing for my final year of college: cleaning my dorm, reading for my thesis, and losing sleep while I worry about my future. Most of my spare moments involve squishing yarn or sleeping--and sadly, I haven't focused enough of my attention on blogging.

Hopefully now that the semester is settling into a pattern, I'll be able to eke out more time for frequent posts.

But for the moment, there's a beautiful skein of Tosh Merino waiting for me.

*squish, squish*

Apparently it's compulsion

Knitting is a deceptively stressful hobby. At first, the act of knitting--rhythmic wrapping of yarn, repetition of motion, and complete occupation of generally twitchy hands--is relaxing. It lulls a person into believing that all projects are soothing--but when one delves farther into the world of skeins and dpns, this tranquil facade slips away.

There are patterns that require constant tinking back, perhaps willfully encouraging a knitter to lose her mind.
Yarns that are on an unholy quest to blind and debilitate all who are drawn by their siren call.
Needles that gleam and promise faster knitting, only to drop hundreds of stitches from their shiny, high-polished, heartless tips.

Yet these insidious fiends are not the worst plague awaiting in a knitter's stash.
Deadlines far outstrip their brethren in malice, for only deadlines can turn a normal, relaxing project into a shudder inducing, panic inspiring jumble of knots and sticks.

Deadlines have many attacks:
Last minute pattern Snafu's
Overestimation of knitting ability
The dreaded three yards short syndrome
and of course,
Christmas

After succeeding with the last minute Trilobite hats, one would think that I--being a moderately sensible Twitch with a healthy respect for the maintenance of my mental faculties--would have avoided all knitting deadlines until the Christmas knitting season really flares up (so.....August?).

However, I'm apparently a glutton for stress.

I don't know if I've posted about the Wonky Scarf--I might have been waiting for pictures. It is a simple garter stitch striped cotton scarf worked out of mysterious yarn that Daniel's parents brought back from Italy for me a few years ago. Luckily enough, I happened to have a few skeins in Gryffindor colors, so I decided to go the way of loving girlfriends and force my boyfriend to dress up for the Harry Potter premiere.

This decision, of course, was made without knowledge of my impending adventure--in the flurry of preparing for said adventure, the half-finished Wonky scarf was swept aside.

Yesterday, the magnitude of my mistake hit me: with less than 36 hours to go, I had to knit a whole half a scarf--the first half of which took me a week.
Momentarily, I considered accepting defeat--especially considering that my knitted accessory for the evening--my beautiful Ravenclaw beret--was MIA, and jealousy of the Wonky scarf would run high at the premiere.

You can probably guess what happened next.

I dashed out to Michaels, bought two skeins of Vanna's Glamour (Sapphire and Platinum), and a hook, and I started crocheting in the car.

Finishing my Sparkly Luna Lovegood Hat and the Wonky scarf before this evening? Why not. I'm sure I'll find a time turner or something.

So little time...

Well, it's soon to be bon voyage to the stash once more.

In little more than 32 hours, I'll be winging away on a new adventure--one that happily requires a little knitting. So far I've made one hat (Trilobite!) for myself--and I've started another for Daniel. If I'm lucky, I might be able to get one more done before it won't matter.

That said....I have a great deal of knitting to which I must return.

Regular blog posts will hopefully recommence after my life stops being quite so interesting.

Like a toddler with a room full of shiny objects

As you can easily see, there are still no pictures on the blog. Shameful, yes. Unwarranted, only if you have never felt the borderline obsessive (ha, borderline) joy of returning to a copious and beautiful yarn stash.

In honor of our being reunited, I decided to attempt a minor stash dive--a difficult and dangerous maneuver in which I perch precariously on the far side of my bed and open up all the various boxes that comprise a portion of the stash. A full stash dive--which would involve both shifting my room in order to access bins and braving the inner depths of my closet--is not recommended at this time. The minor dive, however, was fruitful enough.

I harvested no less than five skeins of malabrigo, and nearly wept for joy as I inspected the haul: three skeins of worsted (in purple, green, and a beautiful pink/brown/green which sounds ridiculous and looks like paradise) and two skeins of dark blue lace weight. The lace weight has been partially wound and bagged up to become a Tilli Tomas Mystique shawl. I also balled up the pink/brown/green with the thoughts of maybe making a Trilobite hat, though this is pending the opinions of my readers...

Unfortunately, winding both balls proved to be even more laborious: having been in the stash for a Very Long time, they had felted and grown finiky from the lack of my direct adoration. The experience has inspired me to attempt to knit All of the remaining malabrigo in my stash as soon as possible--with the exception of the superwash socks, but we'll see.

This could prove to be a very interesting summer.

I can almost smell it

My conspicuous absence and my separation from the stash are almost at an end.

This week has been lovely: I've enjoyed the summer sun, gotten together with two of my favorite people (coincidentally both readers of the blog...not that their reading it has anything to do with their status as "favorite people"), knit quite a bit of a very wonky scarf (it's story will be song by the bards...or you know, posted when I set up my camera), and resisted the temptation to buy yarn from ESK.

I sadly succumbed to a little temptation while I was here. On the second trip to Michael's (can you see where my mistake was?) I found some acrylic self patterning yarn. It's cunning little stripes and delicate spotted pattern defeated my will power; I bought a skein. Four dollars of temptation wouldn't look so bad...except for two reasons:

-Daniel bought two skeins of the same type of yarn in green and brown. He wants a "camo" scarf.

-I fully intend to plead with my loved ones for the permission to buy some special yarn for the trip that shall not be typed. If I type it might not happen...and I really want it to happen.

This place makes me nervous

I'm on the first of what will be a series of trips this summer--which means two things: my blog posts will be erratic, and I will have limited access to yarn. The latter aspect frankly makes me a little anxious.

Generally, I'm never farther than 30 feet away from a variety of yarn for more than a few hours. For some unknown reason, this summer I've agreed to several trips that will not only take me away from my ample stash, but will also make the acquisition of more yarn very difficult (I can hear all those who love me and wish to preserve my sanity...err, I mean bank account heave a great sigh of relief).

Perhaps half way through the week I will find a Michael's--just to look (and pretend that I could knit the yarn at will) and maybe fondle.

Then maybe when I get home I will begin looking into self help groups.

A hush runs over the Knitting community

There's an electric buzz in the air and my fingers have the urge to abandon poor Surfie for unknown glory. It's not my normal knitterly fickleness; this is a special brand of wanton abandon.

The new Knitty is up.

I haven't even looked at the patterns yet (lies, I saw the crab pattern while I was making the above link, but that doesn't really count does it?) but I look forward to the new Knitty with the sort of all consuming, heart stopping joy of a child before her birthday.

I had another post planned today (it even turned out to be weirdly relevant to my day, given that I had a swimsuit breakthrough today), but....

the new Knitty is up.