After the Big White (details forthcoming, when Meg gets her pictures from the photographer) I felt a sort of knitting ennui. It’s not that I didn’t want to knit, it was more that I had a kind of knitting hangover. Simple things called to me. Things with no charts, no beads, things with yarn thicker than dental floss… I plowed through a pair of socks that have been kicking around my knitting basket forever –
I know the yarn is Regia, but once again, the colourway escapes me. I always take a picture of the ball band to try and avoid just this moment, but these ones have been around for so long that it’s hopeless.
That felt pretty good, so I started another pair…
I’ve got the ball band for these ones, Lang Super Soxx, Cashmere Color 4-ply, colour fetchingly named 904.0010. (There. Now I can lose it.) I knit along on those for a while, but it didn’t scratch the itch. It didn’t feel like knitting really, just something to do, and this morning the feeling is still there. I picked up my knitting and realized that I’m starting to get over the Big White. The urge to have something a little more fussy is upon me, and I found myself browsing patterns, looking through ideas, re-reading notes that I left myself about things I wanted to knit, back when the Big White was all I was allowed to knit. I thought about starting a bit more lace, perhaps a few cables. Maybe something else beaded, now, while I know where my tiny crochet hook is?
(Upstream Alpacas hand painted combed top, 100% baby alpaca, in “Cappuccino”.)
Then I went upstairs and got myself something to spin. Clearly, I’m not totally over it. Maybe tomorrow.
*PS. The hill repeats were a bust yesterday. My cough is better, apparently better enough to let me ride, but not to let me ride hills. I did three loops through the park to warm up, then made one ascent, tried to hack up the lower lobe of my left lung at the top, and limped home. I suppose one is better than none, but it was pretty demoralizing. Today’s a new day. I’ll try again.