I've managed to be monogamous to a knitting project for three days. Three days. I think that is a record. I would be working on it now, but the cat is sleeping on it. n It's giant, candy apple green, with brown chocolate trim.
We are ignoring the second time cotton sweater thrown to the wayside and the uncounted pairs of socks and other languishing projects- like a half warped loom- waiting in the wings. They are simply not the right season to be working on. Too light weight or too heavy, not able to be carried with easily.
And then there is the tatting. O, the tatting. Specifically, on needles, since while I prefer tatting with shuttles, they simply do not lend themselves to lectures and walking around (try that for weirder looks than spinning). The delicate picots, joined in circle after circle after circle, creating delicate borders (for who knows what) are absolutely captivating to me.
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