<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d17605793\x26blogName\x3dinsaknitty!!\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://insaknitty.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://insaknitty.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-2272000285703498536', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

susan and kntting, sitting in a tree...

whenever I finish a project, I feel like I need to do some personal reflection. do I pick up one of the 100s of ufo's I use to carpet my home or do I cast on for one of the projects I'd mysteriously managed to gather materials for in the last few weeks? I struggle with the guilt of the languishing ufo's but then drool at the thought of something new. it's never a tough choice.

my knitting projects are like relationships. some good, but more bad, it seems... most of them start out with pure superficiality; serendipitously finding myself face to face with a super cute pattern and knowing that I just have to have it. I just have to! I mean, look how cute it is! imagine how cute we'll look together! I do whatever it takes to make it happy, finding the perfect yarn in the perfect color, taking it with me everywhere, staying up late together, making sure it's comfortable and safe in it's own little bag, telling everyone I know how great it is, daydreaming about the day that I can wear it proudly for all to see... I jump right in with little foresight - I'm too busy basking in the glow of the newness and excitement of the whole thing.

usually, there are rough patches along the way. more often than I wish, one of those rough patches means the end of it all. we have a big fight, I yell at it, and then stuff it in a bag and toss it in the closet so we can each have the space we need. sometimes, we are able to reconcile. sometimes things are so badly damaged that it could be years before we can even face each other again. sometimes I just rip it to bits and try not to think about it anymore. sometimes I completely forget that it even exists. maybe if it wrote or called more often or didn't tell me that we look fat together, I would be able to overcome my feelings of anger and resentment.

other times, a younger cuter pattern comes along and catches my eye (I have such a wayward heart!) and the one I was working on gets left in the dust. the yarn is always greener on the other needles, isn't it? suddenly, the current project seems dull, old, lifeless. it does nothing for me. but look at that cute new kid who keeps clamoring for my attention, batting those eyelashes, smiling coyly in my direction... who can resist??

and, sometimes, I get enamored with two or more projects at the same time! that's tough, too, because I try to juggle them all, only to realize I don't have the ability to devote the amount of attention each one requires and end up having to choose just one. I don't think I've ever been able to successfully manage several concurrent projects. I guess it just isn't in my nature.

sometimes, the more I get to know certain projects, the more I realize that it wasn't quite what I had envisioned and that maybe it was all a big mistake. if this happens early on, it's no big deal. it's a bit more crushing if I've gotten in pretty deep. that's when things have the potential to get messy. and this is especially embarrassing if I've boasted about the cuteness of such a project publically. say, on my blog.

then, of course, there are the flings. the ones I just kind of pick up because I need a distraction from the "real" project which may be trying my patience or have gotten boring for the moment. I may not be all that attracted to it, but it's there and it's easy. it's rare that those actually turn into anything useful, but they often give me the motivation I need to focus on the real thing. these are easily abandoned with minimal remorse.

but then, once in a blue moon, that one pattern comes along and sweeps me right off my feet... it's rare (that's how I know it's good), but things sail along so perfectly, the initial rush enough to carry me through to the end. all the little snags that pop up seem insubstantial and misunderstandings are smoothed over in no time. that's when I really love knitting. I mean, I love it all the time, unconditionally, but that's when I realize why I love it. that's when it all becomes worth it. can you tell I'm still swooning over orangina? teehee.

this post was inspired just a teensy bit by this. it's about poo, so don't click unless you like to read about poo. just a warning. it's super hilarious, though. happy friday!

You can leave your response or bookmark this post to del.icio.us by using the links below.
Comment | Bookmark | Go to end
  • Blogger scarletprincess says so:
    3:17 PM  

    this post pretty much sums up everything I feel about my knitting projects... so odd that it's the first time I've ever read you're blog too! Congratulations on orangina btw, it's beautiful!!! top

  • Anonymous wendy says so:
    10:31 AM  

    hahahaha awesome! top

  • Blogger Carrie K says so:
    8:29 PM  

    That is a fabulously descriptive post of knitting projects - pretty much how I am.

    Poo has it's place, but I think I'll save it for the workplace tomorrow.

    Oh, and Yarn Dogs is great. They have a bowl of water at the door for the dogs and treats for them inside. They had a pretty good selection but I was kind of studiously trying NOT TO BUY anything (okay, I bought maybe 4 balls of cotton yarn). I'm weak, what can I say?

    Go right at the dead end. I guessed wrong. top