troublesome

I think I might have a problem. I worried a month ago that I'd have no desire to knit. It turns out that there's really no concern in that department. In fact, it seems to be the only thing I feel like doing. I might indeed be developing a problem. I live in a shoebox and everywhere I turn, I run into another project. In bed. In the kitchen. On the couch. Dare I say, in the loo?


There's this jury duty baby sweater that just needs a final arm and a bit of gentle coaxing. Oh and it could use a perfect button as well. It's a quick, easy knit, but it lacks the charm (is it too much to say the revelation?) of an Elizabeth Zimmerman pattern. Nevertheless, it's in superwash DK wool and will hopefully find a good home with a yet-to-be-born babe in Northern California.


Then there's this. It's a "surprise." So I shouldn't say more.


This is the beloved Shalom . It's my second edition in the same colorway. My niece Felicity loved the one that I made her for Christmas (or she did a good job lying about it) and I'm eager to have a matching one for myself. I mean I don't want to be all matchy-matchy, but come on. It'd be pretty cute.


Then there's this Stephen West little colonnade. It's my first official foray into the world of shawls. I've realized that I have three--or maybe six--balls of sock yarn that need to be used up. I loathe sock knitting (it's just not my thing) and so shawls seem to be the perfect outlet for these lovely and lonely single skeins.

The real problem is that I have work to do and my eyes keep falling upon these projects everywhere. And so I make deals with myself. One hour of work = 30 minutes of knitting. 30 minutes of work = 7 minutes of knitting. 7 minutes of work = two rows of the nearest knit. It's pathetic. There are interviews to prepare for, syllabi to finish, lectures to write, a dissertation to pull from under the bed and dust off (oh the horror), conferences to feign an interest in attending.

I think I need to find a local meeting of KA. That or I need to start one.