I’ve been in kind of a knitting funk the past few weeks. Although really, it’s more like an overall funk with many things conspiring to bring me down a bit. But the knitting funk makes things especially sucky, because for me (as it is with many of you, I suspect) knitting is a way out of the grumbly time, when I can shut out the crap and just focus on the damn lace section of my headband. Ideally.
When the knitting starts to feel like a chore, though … ugh. Then I start feeling all dutiful and start thinking “well, I should finish what I started even though I’m not having any fun any more” and other very adult and noble and martyr-ish thoughts.
I’ve been having those thoughts about these socks:
They are the socks I started back in February (I think… I’m not sure because it has been so freaking long), and I’m entirely uninterested in them. I think it might be the color (so autumny, so perfect to knit in September or October, but not now when I want bright flashy springy summery colors). It might also be that the socks are pretty boring. 2×2 rib all the way around the damn leg for a hundred more years. It might be that I’m such a slow knitter that my love for a project reaches its expiration date way before I finish it. This would explain the half-knit whatsits congregating at the bottom of my workbasket. Hmmm…
Whatever the case, after reading of Grumperina’s project defenestration, I’ve decided to just set these socks aside until I want them again. Because what is the point of knitting something that feels like a chore or drudgery? This is supposed to be my happy-fun-creative time, not my awful-crafting-burden time. (That should only be reserved for plastic canvas kleenex cozies.)
The socks, they are banished until the fall.
I am still working on the Ballet Camisole. Turns out my gauge is absolutely correct (I measured in four different places on the tank) and the bust is even measuring a little small (no big deal, I cast on for a size that’s about an inch bigger than me). So all the worry was for naught. (Except that I got to say “naught” which gives me more happiness than it should.)