I’m so happy, happy bouncy, and, yes, I am being careful. Tigger is back, and Eeyore can go and have a nice lie down somewhere shady.
I’m knitting again (you may already have gathered this).
I’m almost as happy as a friend’s dog, mucky, mucky, mucky Mali:
except that there’s not quite so much sand involved (she got worse, believe me – ball snorkelling in the dunes).
Despite being very busy with work – also good – my hands are bearing up well enough for me to have nearly finished a huge winter sweater. Yes, the temperature yesterday was nearly 30 degrees C, but I’m ready should the weather change – that is, I will be ready once I’ve finished sewing up (yawn).
So what next? Well, I did cast on a new project – why have one on the go when you can have several? – but it was only when one of my friends said, pausing to mop her brow, ‘Why are you knitting with that?’ that I realised it was silly to be knitting a thick silk cowl in this weather. Apart from anything else, my hands were sticking to the silk and the points of my interchangeable Knit Pro circulars kept coming off.
It’s got to be cotton. So I’ve hauled out the stash, forgotten half of it because it’s, um, diversified into other places than the giant laundry basket where it’s supposed to live, and settled on one of two things.
First, some sort of cardigan. A girl can never have too many cardis, especially when it gets cooler in the evenings.
This is a whole heap of Twilley’s lovely organic cotton – beautifully soft, in both texture and colour, and bought at Abakhan in Mostyn where it was inexplicably in a sale bin. I’m thinking basically soft grey – I’ve got most of that – with a contrast trim, maybe a flirtation with Fair Isle borders. If I can remember how to do colour work!
Or then I could branch out into some more ambitious lace than I’ve been capable of for a while. A shawl, perhaps, in this Jaeger silk:
But that brings up the silk objection, though this isn’t so sticky (the one I was knitting my cowl in was a fairly heavyweight single). It’s the only thing I managed to get in the Great Rowan Workshop Discount Yarn Scramble, apart from a few bruises. And a certain surprise at the level of violence involved from such apparently conventional people.
That’s all alarmingly pastel, though. Somewhere – could be under a bed, might be in the sewing room (OK, dumping ground, aka spare bedroom) – I’ve got some deep cherry red Aran-weight cotton, a little turquoise ditto, and two cones of lime green 6-ply, roughly the same weight as Rowan’s Cotton Glace, which I love working with. Come to think of it, there’s some Cotton Glace somewhere too, though just the odd ball of various colours left over from colour work. Oh, and some petrol-blue Phildar Licorne: I’d better use that, it’s ancient. Hang on – it’s too fine. Still can’t manage those tricky fine needles, but I will.
Or maybe I’ll just go for a walk on the beach and consider my options. Not a paddle though; it’s ******* freezing. Despite which, there are holidaymakers swimming. Bits will fall off if you stay in too long, you know. This is Wales and it’s only May. Don’t be daft; paid a bod yn wirion.
Oh, I admit it, I had to have a go. Just a paddle, mind. First my feet went white, then they lost all feeling, then I turned round and went back onto the sand. So no paddle tonight.
Ahem. Perhaps I could start with sorting out the stash?