Startophoboa has struck again. I’m done Ringle, and my two shawls, and this months spinning samples.
I’ve been playing a little game with myself since Ringle wrapped up: how long can I go without casting on something new? I knit swatches, mended some leggings, played with silk, did some cooking, cleaned up the yard, etc.
Will this be the night? Or will I find that mending cotton I’m missing and fix my jeans? Or will I suck it up and darn some socks? Or will I chicken out and cast on a hat instead? Or will I ply up my bombyx silk and call it a night? Or will I finish the border on that 5th placemat? Or will I sew together those book signatures waiting by the stove?
The truth is, I have so many projects on the go that I could stall indefinitely.
But I’m getting close to the point where I won’t be able to stand it anymore. I’ve picked my yarn, swatched, and picked a pattern:
It’s the fear of commitment, I know. The fear of overwhelm of adding one more project when it’s not like there’s empty time I’m trying to fill. I’m a monogamous knitter, but not a monogamous maker, and sometimes I feel the stretch. I don’t like the stretch.
I know I’ll cast on soon. But maybe not tonight. I could finish one more thing. I’d like to get that silk plied.