In Which I Prove I Can Count

All the non-knitting craziness should be over, at least for a while.

So it is time to return to the knitting craziness.

Not that the knitting craziness hasn't been present the entire time.

It is just that I've been studiously ignoring it. Pro-actively not worrying about it.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. ("It's just two months. How bad could things get?")

Now that I am returning to "normal" life -- whatever that is -- I'm realizing that, in retrospect, that seems more than a little stupid.

I'm taking stock of all the knitting projects I've started in the last two months or so, and I have to say that I really had no idea that the situation was quite as dramatic as it is.

I had told myself, quite firmly, that I should spend less time knitting, because I really, really, really needed that time for other things.

Clearly, though, what I heard myself say was something closer to "You can knit as much as you like, as long as you have plausible deniability." That's a policy statement.

In general-but-practical terms, of course, this translated to something like "You can knit as much as you like, as long as you don't appear to be making any progress on any of your projects."

But I'm a nuts-and-bolts person, so probably what I ultimately heard was this: "You can start as many projects as you like, and spend as much time as you like on them, so long as no small project is finished and no large project approaches the half-way point. And don't blog."

Two cases in point:

1.) A small project. I "started" an Elizabeth Zimmerman Baby Surprise Jacket. It almost got away from me, but I was able to stop short of weaving in the two ends and sewing on the buttons. So I argue that it must be said in all fairness -- and particularly since I didn't blog about it -- that I really didn't work on it much at all.

2.) A large project. I "started" a Lizard Ridge afghan. Blogged about it a little, but managed to stop after 9 blocks. Hid them in a box. ("Lizard Ridge? What? What's that? An afghan? You do know that afghans are huge, right? I assure you that if I were working on one, you wouldn't be able to miss it. Do you need to be driven to the doctor?")

Plausible deniability. (Say it with me, everyone!)

And so it went.

For two months . . .

My people, I count twenty ongoing knitting projects.

Not counting the pseudo-praire blanket, which I am determined to frog.

TWENTY.

And not counting that last, final, "just one more," newly cast-on project I allowed myself yesterday as a reward for keeping it together (well, almost) these last two months:

Elfine's Socks by Anna Bell in Koigu.



So that would be TWENTY-ONE. (See, I can count. I just generally choose not to.)

So why do I say that this whole approach to "not knitting" only seems stupid?

You see, the thing is, I know me.

(And I know that I know me.)

Because I know me, I know that I knew all along that this would happen.

Knowing that I knew, all along, that this would happen, the only logical conclusion is that I wanted this to happen.

All along.

And if I wanted it to happen, how bad can it really be?

And if twenty-one projects really isn't that bad, you know, really, logically speaking, what's one more?

Ribbed Socks in Lana Grossa Meilenweit Colortweed, colourway 1004.



Hey, how did that get in there?

TWENTY-TWO . . .

(If you think this is bad, you should see the stash. I'd show it to you, but there are laws against obscenity.)