Last night I was knitting on Lyrica Euterpe, and it was all bad. Don't get me wrong, it's a lovely thing, oh - so lovely. A beautiful, well written pattern that would have even perhaps have been termed "quick", relatively speaking, you understand - had I not had to essentially re-knit it when I had the dye lot mishap. I love the yarn, and though I wouldn't wear it myself, I even adore the colour. The bad part came when I was trapped in the last few rows. The last few rows are always long, and even longer when they're the long side of a top-down shawl, but it's more than that.
I went shopping yesterday for the few balls of yarn that I needed to begin the finale of the Christmas knitting, and all of those skeins and balls and plans were sitting there mocking me.
I thought, several times as I tried to power through those last few indeterminable rows, rows without seeming end, that it might be better to stop. Not to give up, you understand, because I want to see this shawl done, it is a Christmas present, and I do really, really love it - but somehow I felt like if I put down the shawl and instead cast on the eight (8) projects that I plan on completing before Christmas, that at least those things would be underway. I thought that might make me feel better. I thought that might actually make me feel great. All of them, underway and steaming towards the finished line. Somehow I believed that casting them all on wasn't just going to be fun, but necessary, and fantastical, that once I cast them all on, it wouldn't seem sisyphean anymore. It would seem like giving that boulder a shove down the right side of the hill, knowing that it would all come to a rest in the right place on Christmas Eve.
I came to my senses, of course, about 10pm when I realized that it was a way better idea to use casting on everything as a prize. A prize for completing these long rows. (I also realized that the yarn I ordered for one of the Newphew sweaters hasn't arrived yet, and that I therefore couldn't cast on everything, and that took a little of the wind out of my sails. Honk if you're looking forward to the day when yarn you order will simply materialize inside of a hole in the wall like Earl Grey tea, Hot, on Star Trek. Can you imagine? "Merino worsted - sky blue" Zap. There it is. A better world awaits us, I tell you. A better world.) I plugged on, and this morning I did a few more rows with my coffee, and today I have only the unreasonably long picot cast off to manage.
After that? I'm casting it all on. Or most of it. Or whatever is already in the house. All the projects - cast on, and awaiting only the knitting time that will make all of them real by the 24th. What the heck. Only two of them are sweaters.