Over the last few weeks I have been rediscovering something approaching knitting fidelity. The Great UFO Reduction Plan, coupled with test knitting and KALs resulted in drawing me back to the straight and narrow path of one-project-at-a-time. The one true way, some would say.
To be sure, I have enjoyed seeing projects grow rapidly and drop from the needles, finished in days. A swell of pride may have been involved on more than one occasion. However, in knitting, as in life, there may be many a slip…
Who knows what the cause might be?Â Boredom, perhaps. Some unthought slight, maybe. Or just the simple neglect of a knitter’s needs. Whatever the reasons, the time becomes ripe for wandering eyes and straying hands.
I had thought myself more than happy in my current stable relationship with the Afshari socks. The pattern is attractive and is enjoyable to knit. The socks grow rapidly and the Jitterbug is divine to work with and yet… and yet…
… late last evening, it happened. It was eyes across a crowded room. It was a sudden flash of passion and desire and sheer knitterly lust.
It was a quick wham, bam, thank you ma’am attack of the Brooklyn Tweeds. It was the hopelessly unsuitable but very attractive slim-hipped young heart throb. The one night, no-holds-barred, no-strings-attached, stand and once-in-a-lifetime carefree abandon ofÂ mis-adventure. A sudden thrill. A knee-trembler. Before I knew it the pattern was in my basket and the yarn was onto my needles. Just like that, I was a fallen woman.
I quickly knit five repeats of the border, with thoughts of my steadfast partner, the Afshari socks troubling my mind but little.
Now, the trouble with breaking one’s fidelity once, is that it tends to break down one’s resistance to further infidelities. No one got hurt, did they? No harm was done…
Which is probably why Hansel was cast on this morning.
Hansel is a Hap Shawl by Gudrun Johnston, The Shetland Trader. Plain and handsome. I had planned to do it in Shetland Jumper Weight but forgot to take my yarn requirements to town with me this week. Today I recollected the Kingcraig lambswool/silk fleece 4ply… and wasted no time in unearthing it (and buying further colours on eBay.)
The Hap Shawl is the slow burn romance. The undistinguished bloke next door, the Ordinary Joe, the unremarkable Internet contact that you have been online flirting with mildly for the last few months. Suddenly he becomes noticeably attractive when he flashes you a smile from his dark corner of the pub. Suddenly you realise that he is interested in you. He leans down and plants an inappropriately long greeting kiss on your lips (even though you are clutching on tightly to your Afshari sock at the time) and suddenly you think he is drop dead gorgeous, (Yes, I’m looking at you, Mr L !)
I need the Hap Shawl in a recognisable state of completion by the 23rd of this month (Craft Exhibition). It could have waited until the socks were complete but after yesterday’s ups and downs I think the plain and simple beauty and familiarity of the grey garter stitch was just what I needed. A knitterly cuddle.
So far, so bad… but have I mentioned the Old Flame? The Aestlight Shawl in handspun that I want to have complete by the 23rd. The contrast yarn is spun, plyed and washed and is ready to start the lace section –Â and this project is out on my desk again and suddenly I am a complete knitting tart once more. Not even serially monagamous, I knit a few rows on one project then pick up another before the needles are cold.
Today I knit on the hap until lunch. Then I worked on Afshari after lunch until coffee. I am about to add a few more repeats to Rock Island… tonight I will work on the Aestlight before returning to my sock.
It is the Rock Island that I must resist at all costs, if I am to get the Aestlight and Hap ready for the exhibition. Afshari can sit at home by the fire, waiting the return of my fickle knitter’s heart – they need to be done by the end of April. Rock Island does not need to be done at all. There is no deadline. No responsibilities. There is only lust and desire and greed.
Get me straight on this one – who wouldn’tÂ at least think about straying from their comfortable old man of a sock project if the Johnny Depp of all knitting projects strolled up to their front door and whispered huskily in their ear… “knit me.”
I’m knitting. I’m knitting!
What’s the odds of the Hap and the Aestlight taking precedence over Mr Depp? Eh?
Just who do I think that I am fooling?
Beth Loft, victim of lust… and Brooklyn Tweed.