As of this evening, I’ll have been working on this scarf, and this scarf alone for one week.

Seven days. Seven days of the same thing without a single moment of disloyalty, unless you count socks.  I don’t count socks, because they fit in my purse and this? I don’t mind trucking along several feet of scarf, but I’m not the sort of person who can manage 8 balls of yarn on the subway. I’d get home and discover that I was short a ball of Saddle Tan that fell out of my bag on the Spadina platform, and as much as I don’t care for the colour, I do need it, and soaking in a puddle of salty slush is no place for any yarn to end up, no matter what colour it is. 

So, if you don’t count socks (and we are not going to) I have been totally loyal to this scarf for seven days – and tonight it stops. Tonight I’m finishing.  Even though I have 105 ridges (that’s 210 rows) to go, I can tell that tonight’s my night. With my wool as my witness. I will finish this scarf on the seventh day, and it and I will part ways tomorrow.

The force is with me.