The Yarn Ho Strikes Back.
I've been behaving. I've been subtracting from my knitting stash (though my stash of roving seems to be subtly increasing when I'm not looking), I've been making things for other people, I've been a good little non-greedy knitter.
... I'll admit to increasing the stash by a cone of cobweb-weight
cashmere, but that serves a purpose otherwise known as the veil I'm
knitting for my wedding. But. Even that had a purpose, and it wasn't a
"Well, I want to knit this for myself just because. Present time, happy
unbirthday to me!!" project.
I've been designing my freakin' wedding dress,
for goodness' sake. I can see it in my head, and I should really be
picking up my needles and the appropriate cones to start up on that.
So what happens instead?
The Fall Knitty comes out, and I go and fall head-over-needles for Roam.
'No,' I tell myself. 'If you're going to focus on a pattern from
there, put down the lace section of the Stitchionary and look at Muir. That's something that could work for the wedding, right?'
So my knitting Id largely shushes, but simmers and grumbles.
'No, I'm not making Roam,' I tell my noisy little Id.
'No, I'm not adding to the stash.'
'No,
I can't find the recommended Great Big Sea yarn. Yes, I've looked.
Everywhere. All right, I'll prove it, you pushy little underbrain.'
So I search, and today? Today, I see this, written a couple days-ish after my last hunt.
Well, feck.
Now she's pointed out substitutions, and I actually
have ten skeins of the now-discontinued Memories from Knitpicks --
which is a fingering weight uber-soft merino that I originally bought
in three shades to make Thermal, and would fit the looser gauge for more drape requirement.
I keep having images of the red, brown and black yarn in a drawer in my bedroom, neatly balled up for my use.
It would be a perfect Roam, you know.
... Pardon me.
I have to go cast on and make my inner yarn ho shut up.
