Sometimes, reality just can't be avoided--even in knitting. Thursday I was feeling the "new project" bug, and was seriously debating between a shawl and a sweater, when I noticed a distinct shortage of available knitting needles in my bag. For someone new to knitting, this might really be possible, but for someone who has been knitting for almost 30 years, this is not highly probable. So, I went looking for the missing needles. Generally, I have several projects going at once, but I think I might have reached an all-time high this time. A sampling:
A cotton tank top, knit in the round in order to keep it from languishing in the "knit but needs to be sewn together" black hole:
A cashmere blend cardigan that I truly do love and only put aside because I was wooed by other projects:
A shawl intended for my next friend who turns 50, that was zipping along nicely until I discovered that she doesn't want a shawl for her 50th birthday:
A new sweater for my husband:
A sweater for my newest nephew, Dalton:
The Elann shrug that I am actually working on this week:
A symmetrical lace stole begun this summer in retaliation for MS3, which is still in progress but is still in banishment:
The obligatory pair of socks:
The pirate costume, which is, of course, sewing but is still a project in progress, and therefore can't be eliminated in a "face the fiber facts" moment:
An almost-finished fleece jacket, with the most abnormally long sleeves ever, and unless I can come up with a reasonable way to do a 7-inch hem, we will be cutting:
I wish I could say this was an all-encompassing list, but alas! There is the "project time out" bin, which is generally reserved for sewing projects which are kicking my tail and protects them from my desire to cram them down the garbage disposal. There are also a few project pieces--the back of a baby sweater, a mostly done toddler ensemble, the back to a glittery silver sweater--which are currently not on needles but still not finished. There is also a shawl being knit on size 0 needles, which is just too depressing to look at very often.
At exactly what point does a hobby need an intervention?