I finished the poncho for Theresa's baby, (She's the snowdrop...remember her?) and it's cracking me up.
Wait, maybe it's only funny if you see it like this.
I think it's hysterical. It's hitting some kind of knitter joke spot for me. Look at it. Look at the wee dandy fringe! (I know. I hear you. While I am apparently experiencing a second wave of poncho-itis I understand the inherently stupidity of knitting a poncho for a seven month old baby. She is going to chew on the point and gnaw on the fringe. It's ok. She's going to outgrow it long before it's out of style. It's dumbass and I feel it....did you see the tiny little point though? C'mon. ) The poncho also amused me by using up all but this...
That means this yarn is gone. I love that. I suffer from 1/2 ball yarn anxiety. I am compelled to save them, yet somehow am repulsed by using them. When all the yarn gets used up I don't have to live with the guilt of saving half balls of yarn and I don't have to be plagued by the wastefulness of throwing it away. I don't need to think about it at all. I can let go of big plans for scrap afghans and striped hats that I'm never going to make, I can stop thinking that someday I'm going to take all of these 17 metre balls and make a really stunning Fassett. When all the yarn gets used up I am spared having to come up with some sort of ethical yarn scrap position. I can just Let. Go.
I am unclear about the exact length of yarn that is let go-able, and that which I must keep. I should like, make a chart or something and try to find out.
Where is your cut-off?
In other news, I have indeed begun to rip the back off my house.
This is a weird little unheated 100 year old mud porch off the back of the house. We use it as a racoon proof place to keep the garbage and as an extra large walk in freezer in the winter. We keep skates and bike helmets there...and well, pretty much anything else that doesn't fit in the rest of the house. I'm ripping the old walls down, then it will be rebuilt (not by me....I'm a demolition sort of renovator) into a ....well. A slightly less weird unheated mud porch off the back of the house.
(As I type that it seems like a less worthy goal than it did before I started ripping the walls down....)
The Rainbow Peerie socks are back on the radar...though my cat seems offended. Look at the "get these crap socks off my chair" face.
Luckily, I don't care what the cat thinks. (Millie is likely upset about the changes in the house. Yesterday she hissed at a sheet of drywall. I can respect that.)
PS. sing with me.
Emma Emma bo-bemma bananna fanna fo-femma me-mi-mo memma....EMMA!
(Sorry. No more singing. No more ponchos. I'm better now)