I am yearning to knit and just not doing it. The weather in New Jersey is 5000% humidity, perhaps I exaggerate by the teensiest bit, but it's made all of me stiff and lethargic. It is 4:42 am and sleep is nowhere to be found. I have made some progress on the Best Friend sweater for my best friend and am awaiting the rest of the yarn I need to arrive at my LYS, Woolbearers, in Mount Holly, NJ. Heaven knows there are dozens (at least five dozen) other projects I could be working on, but I'm not.
Instead, I received the new KnitPicks catalog in the mail and am thinking of NEW projects. After all Christmas is coming. Everyone could get felted bowls from the "One Skein" book. Brothers could get felted wine bottle bags or laptop bags with their initials monogrammed... Do I seriously have time to knit a sweater for Dad if I'm already trying to knit a sweater for Carol, one for Sarah, crochet one for Abby, make another one for Mom AND a beaded purse for Kelly? Plus a top for Rose once I have an idea of how much weight she's lost since her surgery? And I did want to make Cat Bordhi's Christmas Stockings, too.
Still, nothing makes me happier than pouring over the books of Ann Budd, Sally Melville, Cat Bordhi, Nancy Epstein, Meg Swansen or EZ. Then there are the magazines. I probably spend as much time dreaming of knitting as I do actually knitting.
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