So, It's Come to This

I've begun to knit wooly condoms for drinking glasses. Really, I had no idea my glassware had such active lives in the cupboards....although, I HAVE thought lately that I seem to have a few more of those little shot glasses than I used to.....hmm. Well, clearly the wooly condom can't come a bit too soon.

Okay, so it's not really a contraceptive for a tumbler. It's actually fuzzy proof that love is fickle for, as you see, the Anne is with yet another partner. It's tempting to think that she may simply be a difficult woman, but such is not the case. Rather, the guardian of the wool is apparently a loon. (That would be me.) Truth is, I simply cannot be satisifed and so I keep insisting that the lovely Anne hold out for something more, something that can better show her subtleties to their best advantage. I keep telling her that he seems like a lovely boy but, really, may not be the best partner for her. Fabulous as he is, she can do better.

In short, yes. A loon.

Seriously, I am like a dog trying to take a nap every time I start a new project. Not content to simply curl up with yarn and pattern, I must turn around in circles, to best see every possible combination of yarn and pattern and then, without fail, I must pick the worst combinations at least three times. Part of it, of course, is that I have stash obsession and, while I am not yet reduced to stroking the angora while whispering "my precious" softly to myself, I am nonetheless protective of all of my wooly babies, and will not allow them to go to any pattern I do not deem wool-worthy. And since, like my father, I deem no one to be truly worthy of my babies, it comes to this. The condom, and the fact that I am a loon.

I took the Anne and the Eagle's Flight on their second date last night and, while they might have been enchanted with one another, I had doubts. And, you guessed it, I pulled them apart again. (If they die horribly in the manner of Romeo and Juliet, I have no doubt that I will be to blame.) And I started a pattern called "Oriel" in the Sensational Knitted Socks book which I then decided to photograph for you but I still haven't mastered the art of photographing close-up photos of stitch work without creating a single, blindingly white square with colored lint at the edges and so I opted to put it on a glass in the hopes of stretching out the pattern enough to show it off....and....yeah. That only sort of explains the picture above. And yet, for the life of me, I really have no other excuse. Believe me, I'd offer it if I could think of one.

The other issue is that I am currently obsessed with all things mosaic, and have only just managed to stop short of picturing the house outfitted in knitted mosaic--right down to the cat blankets and the lampshades. In bright colors. I can't really explain this, either, except to say that while some people have an inner child; I have an inner color-blind clown. It's really only a matter of time before someone finds me trying to knit balloon animals, and then I'll be loading myself right into that handbasket.

And because I am obsessed with mosaic knitting (really, it just thrilled me to no end to create such a dramatic effect without all that much work--I'm such a simple person) it is apparently difficult to impossible to sit myself calmly down with a lovely hank of wool and a sedate pattern and accomplish anything other than the restless manipulation of expensive materials to produce...slightly tired looking and overworked expensive materials. It's a sickness, truly.

Here's the kicker: I'm going tomorrow night to the Village Yarn and Tea Shop for a party (a pajama party but let's just say that the only pajamas I own involve absolutely no fabric and, due to the unkind impact of my middle years, tend to look as though they might need ironing--yeah, I'm not wearing pj's, no matter WHAT I might be either threatened or bribed with) where the Yarn Pirate will be showing off her wares. Yep. Five will get you ten that I'll be bringing home still more yarn that is too good to be knitted into anything, or combinations that are so bright and loud that they will keep the rest of my yarn awake at night.

Yes, indeed--it has come to this. I'm going to go knit some more on my mohair blend contraceptive. I can't promise that it will end up as something remotely resembling socks because, well, clearly I've lost my mind. By tomorrow, it may well be that balloon animal we were talking about. Someone may wish to warm up that handbasket.