I keep telling myself that in order to be a well rounded knitter, I need to knit sweaters and learn fair isle, expand my horizons, blah blah blah blah. And I'm sure that in order to be a well rounded knitter, I really do need to do that.
here's the thing.
I maybe don't want to be such a well rounded knitter.
Maybe I lack something critical, like an attention span.
If I have to take one more #$@% stitch on that endless #^&$%! stockinette stitch cardi I've got going on needles? I. Will. Scream. And. Die. So off the needles it goes. Frog city. I haven't reached that point of no return yet, I'm still not even 1/4 of the way into the damn thing, so I really have nothing to lose. I'm still making a sweater out of the yarn, I think I just want to make it in a nice lace stitch or maybe throw in some cables, even a little ribbing. Maybe learn to work with color. SOMETHING, dear sweet zombie jesus. Because when it comes right down to it, I am happiest knitting socks and lace and projects with maybe a little zing tossed in to keep me from keeling over asleep like a big old narcoleptic thing. And life is too damn short to sleep. Call me ADHD. Call me uncommitted. And pass me the sock yarn.
Picked up IK spring 2006 and Meg Swansons's A Gathering Of Lace today and zowie. Lots of pattern lust. Lots of pondering about why there are things like bobbles and pompoms in the world. Like with the platypus, I imagine that G-d has her reasons.