My hand is healing, slowly. I managed to get as far as the Afterthought Heels on the Hot Pink Man Socks, but the DPNs and the tension were killer on my thumb, so I’ve set it aside for the moment.
The cardigan is still banished off in a project bag.
And recently I’ve started on a Lacy Baktus with some pretty Malabrigo Sock yarn I got at a yarn shop in Hawaii a couple of years ago. When I started it, I had this inane thought that maybe I could have it done before I head off to the Brass Screw Confederacy Steampunk Festival this weekend, and that was the sort of mad thought I could have entertained a couple of months ago–not now. At the moment, I’m vaguely wishing and hoping I can get it to the halfway point via weight, and then begin the decreases in my spare time over the weekend. Honestly, that may be a pipe dream as well.
Please ignore the chicken poo on the patio. Occupational hazard.
Looking at this in hindsight that I think about what I could have been doing–I don’t feel like I wasted time, per se, while in convalescence, so much as I didn’t use it in creative ways. I could have been hashing out designs. I could have caught up reading trade magazines that I’m behind on (like PLY or Spin Off). I could have tried spinning, although I’m not currently excited about it. What I did manage to do was properly label and organize a year’s worth of shop stock, which was no small task, but still.
Yarn and knitting is my soul and inspiration at the moment. There’s a part of me that feels guilty that I’m not spinning as often feel I should, but these things forever wax and wane. There will be a time again when I’m spinning yarn faster than one can blink, when my knitting falls by the wayside for weeks or months at a time and my handspun stash grows exponentially (well, maybe not exponentially at this stage, but definitely by a large percentage).
All of these things are well and good. There are no rules that say because I spin and knit that I must do them in equal amounts every day or week. That’s one of the things I love about fiber and the fiber arts–there’s always something to do. When I’m weary of knitting, there is spinning waiting for me. When I tire of spinning, the knitting waits. When I’m tired of both, there is my loom, forever taunting me. When I want to challenge myself, there is design of all sorts–yarn, colorways, knitwear, and, of course, other people’s patterns.
There’s always something to do… something to make… something to create. And I love it all.