Let’s play a game.
For one second, pretend you’re me.
(Stop crying. It’s just a thought exercise. You can stop being me in just a sec.)
You’re 26 years old and for the first time in your life you have real boobs(!). You’re married to a dashing young lawyer. You have a rotten cat and a rottener dog and a surely-rotten Hoopling on the way. You have a whole closet of yarn, and half a dozen projects that you’re knitting – and enjoying – right now. You also have a hamper full of dirty laundry and a sink full of dishes.
What do you do?
Let me tell you (since I *am* me, I am uniquely qualified to tell you this).
If you’re me, you ignore all your other knitting, and ignore the dishes and ignore the laundry. Instead you pull out a skein of Skacel merino lace (which has been snuggled up in your stash since ‘way back when you lived in the place with that weird textured carpet)…
And you cast on for a Veil of Isis shawl, post-haste:
I am uniquely qualified to tell you: I AM SO STUPID, Y’ALL.
I have an Evenstar Shawl in progress. I’m nearly done with the body of Featherweight. I still have two Christmas gifts outstanding. A garter stitch Habu scarf has been occupying one of my Clicks cables for nearly a year now. A Hoopling will be emerging from my nether-regions in just four and a half months, and it will need to be clothed somehow.
So what am I knitting? More lace, of course. New lace. A giant-ass square shawl on US1 needles. (I blame Amanda at Knitorious for her gorgeous one, which I fairly drooled over last Wednesday. Just goes to show – you never know when you’ll be blindsided by yarn. It’s dangerous.)
Someone come take my needles away.
Or actually, don’t. Not until I have the chance to knit this up:
That’s Dyeabolical Strong Arm Skinny in “Fate, PhD”. AKA my new most favorite colorway ever.
Te amo, yarn. Te amo.
Oh, and I may have also ordered a little something from TLE:
That was supposed to be black, with purplish blue streaks. It was going to become Jeffsocks. What arrived is, instead, most definitely a uniform dark purple. He has declared the yarn inappropriate for his manly man feet, so into the stash it goes. It may possibly eventually become one half of a Catkin.
And then I had a $25 TLE credit burning a hole in my pocket, so I caved and bought this for myself:
I’ve had my eye on that colorway since the dark winter of the Yarn Diet, and a skein has finally found its way into my grubby little hands. I am happy about this. I just want to own it, not knit it. Not yet.
But friends, I have to tell you. I love buying yarn. I love having a hefty (by my standards) stash, and you KNOW I love knitting up that hefty (by my standards) stash. That said, though, I think that as of late my stash has officially reached its own unique level of maximum reasonable heftiness. I’m not quite ready to send it to fat camp or anything, but I do think it’s time for a little bit of portion control, healthy choices, and exercise.
Look, even Roxie is appalled at how bad it’s getting:
(You know it’s bad when even Roxie’s ashamed.)
So with that, I actually think I’m leaning toward another diet-y thing. Not as long or as strict as last time, to be sure, but I also don’t think I can go stash-acquiring with the wild abandon I’ve been practicing as of late.
Let me mull this over for a while. I’m not making any decisions yet.
But…there may be another diet on the horizon.
Someone hold me.
PS>Did you notice the stitch markers on that shawl above? I love them. They’re my most favorite stitch markers ever, from BeaGin Design. They’re perfectly unobtrusive in my knitting and come in a rainbow of colors, so it’s always really easy to keep track of all the charts and counts persnickety things that come up in lace knitting.