The biggest problem with having too many projects on the needles is that you just stop feeling like you're making any progress. I knit at least a little bit every day, and often times for the better part of the day on weekends. I knit in the car when husband is driving, and I always have something in my purse to work so that I don't get stuck having to pay attention to FoxNews in the doctor's waiting room. I am not a slacker in the knitting department, and yet I feel like I have very little to show for the last few weeks.
What I do have to show is sad, lonely single socks. Socks that are desperately waiting for their mate to check the "yes" box underneath the question "do you like-like me?" Socks that run from one side of the school to the other just on the off chance they might glance their intended other as they glide into 4rd period math. If you look at these socks' yearbooks, there are red hearts drawn all around their love's photo (and of course devil horns, tail and vampire teeth sharpied over that stuck-up bitch cashmere cables knee-sock who thinks she can do anything she wants because she's just soooo popular). These socks are hormonal, obsessive, borderline-pathetic junior high girls. They need dates. Now.
No, I wasn't drunk when I took that middle photograph - it's Heidi's surprise sock. It's pretty guessable what pattern it is, but I still want the finished look of it to be a surprise! Also, in case you are wondering why I have a yak in my living room (as a dear friend did), I don't. It's a GORGEOUS sheep pelt I bought at the Winter Wine & Wool fest at Sandhill Crane Vineyards (where I also bought some yarn, naturally, as well as several bottles of wine). It is from Bridosha Farm, and I cannot begin to tell you how deliciously soft and cozy it is.
Anyway, there you have it, mismatched socks. It doesn't help that I cast on yet another project this week - Odin. I have one sleeve done, and am half-way through the second.
It's an Icelandic Lopapeysa sweater, knit with Istex Alafoss Lopi (also Icelandic). I should mention here that the aforementioned sheep pelt is an Icelandic sheep. Well, was an Icelandic sheep. I'm having a little bit of a love-affair with that beautiful island in the North Atlantic. This is partly inspired by Franklin Habit's blog posts about his trip to Iceland (in particular this one), but more so by my own impending trip to the land of fire and ice. My mother and I, official planners of the family vacation, after much civilized discussion (read: screaming and hair-pulling), have decided that this year we will trek off to Iceland and Scotland. I'm fucking stoked - I love vacations that include a suitcase dedicated to souvenir yarn!
I cast on the Odin sweater to get in the mood, and it is working! I cannot wait to explore the knitting-related awesomesauce that exists in Iceland. I've been studying the Knitting Iceland tours like a crazy stalker and am having daily excitementgasms just thinking of all the fibery fun I'll be having!
Now, if I can figure out how to knit whilst soaking in the blue lagoon, I'll have reached true nirvana.