Why am I blogging at 1:30 in the morning?
Well, I blame this:
It’s burning pile of mulch just outside of San Antonio. Really spectacular. And it’s throwing some really nasty cedar smoke into the air. Not that I mind the smell of burning wood, mind you – it’s just that I seem to be deathly allergic to this stuff. And all my favorite bike rides go fairly close to this damn thing. Ghaaah. I’ve spent most of the day in various stages of Benadryl-fueled delirium, and the drugs seem to have worn off now, leaving me wide awake with itchy eyes and a congested chest. This sucks out loud.
However, it’s very conducive to Witching Hour knitting, as evidenced by the current hot laciness adorning my coffee table.
Is it not shawl-like? I ripped that puppy back to fix the aforementioned problem (I’d picked up stitches on the wrong side of the edging) and never looked back.
I spent most of Sunday working on it, and I’m slipping into that weird space-time-yarn continuum thingy where the more knitting you do, the easier it is to get more knitting done – you know, where taking a break from knitting on a big project like a sweater or a shawl in order to whip out a sock just doesn’t feel like that big a thing? Yarnspace. Or Yarntime. Something like that. Anyway, whilst browsing the sock yarns at Yarnivore, three balls of Plymouth Sockotta jumped out at me. They wrestled me to the ground and started yelling “We will not let thee go, except thou knit socks with us!”