It’s been silent around here lately, for 3 reasons:
1) I still can’t talk about yet. That’s the definition of secrecy, you know. But I CAN say I’m super duper excited about something. This:
And that’s all I can say. Which isn’t much, I know. I can be mysterious at times, no?
2) needs no explanation. I’ve not been blogging, but I’ve been knitting. Gail (which I’ve named ‘Miss Havisham’ for reasons that make sense only to me) is coming along quite nicely.
Of course, right now it just looks like a blob – as all babylace does. But it has potential.
3) is because, for the first time in my life, I am the owner of yarn that’s too nice for me.
That’s my bathrobe-clad arm holding 1 skein of Fiberphile laceweight alpaca/silk/cashmere blend. You’ll know it’s me because of the clawed-up armchair and dog toys all over the floor. (any other self-respecting person wouldn’t show that mess)
The yarn was a gift from my mother. I could never dream of being able to afford such luxury for myself (at least, without selling the cats or something). It’s too good for me and, for now, too pretty to knit with. For the past few days I’ve been walking around the house in a daze, yarn on my shoulder, patting it absentmindedly. This is, I imagine, not unlike having a newborn baby. Except without the pain and crying and pooping.
But that’s not all….more to come, this afternoon! (Because y’all know, once I start talking I can’t shut up)