I have been trying to keep up with life, which involves such unpleasant sundry things as cleaning the cat litter and making sure the mountain of laundry is reduced daily (although truth be told there’s only a tiny little pile of laundry at the moment). As with all summers ends (as classes start back first week of september) I am well on my way to a good clean/purge of the household.Still there has been knitting as intermediate as it can be.
The Not-so-cherry-swirl socks have been picked back up out of sock needing desperation, that and I have been clamboring to knit more socks, it does happen, and figureing that having two pairs on the needles at the moment the least I can do is finish one of the pairs. I’m actually closer to the toe than the picture shows as I went at it for a few hours last night.
So there’s that pair and the black and white knee socks which will probably languish for a little while longer. Of course because I was sock Jones’ing something fierce last night I took a page from the yarn harlot and from Carin (of round the twist with Carin) and set to work in my yarn room doing something incredibly geeky in terms of yarn
I went through all my patterns and sock yarn and came up with this, individually packed and marked bags, each a pattern to its respective yarn. The theory was that the time I spent now would benefit me when I have to get up at 10 to 7 for class and may not have the where with all to assemble a knitting pattern and the right yarn without expending precious brainpower. The ability to grab and go as it were is now achieved. It should also be said that for the two hours it took me to do this (no small feat matching stitch counts to their respective patterns and contemplating colorways and the patterns, knitters you know how hard it can be) the boyfriend didn’t find it strange at all. You know you have it good when in the deepest darkest recesses of your obsession there is a person who finds your neurosis cute.
Which brings me to an interesting though completely un-knitterly related. While I have in the past been completely balls out about my singledom is it strange that I am far more protective of not being single, ie. I am not single and that is all I really care to tell the universe. Part of me wants to tell the world, perhaps purchase an add in a paper, and the other half is pulling a gollum and thinking it should be kept secret and safe. But I can’t really hide my new found joy from the knitterly community. In fact getting a boyfriend played out rather humorously that reminded me strongly of a conversation with a former co-worker/friend.The conversation interestingly enough revolved around Dr. Horrible’s Sing-A-Long Blog, and how men are actually somewhat similar (if not compleatly alike to) Neil Patrick Harris’s character. To which I the ever jaded singleton at the time replied with shock and awe that such a thing actually existed. And while NPH may have been an extreme case, I can now see that that particular conversation held true.
So my lovely bloggers while you may get oblique references to the boyfriend (who I haven’t discussed blogging with so he shall remain nameless unless he chooses to be identified) , and the occasional knit project associated with him (such as his birthday gift, the D4 dice bag), chances are I’m not going to say much, except maybe that I am a very lucky individual.