There comes a time in every knitter's life when she must realize that there is a cost to playing around. No pleasure comes without its price. Or as Heinlein would say, TANSTAAFL (this, by the way, is a watchword around the house; we've taught the girls this acronym already, and have translated it loosely as, "if it looks too good to be true, the chances are it is too good to be true)(admittedly, we mostly use it when explaining to them why it's not a good idea to send back all of those "get one free if you sign up now" ads that come in the mail).
It's times like now that I realize the cost of project polygamy.
You know what I mean. You knit here and knit there and maybe spin a little, and it seems like all of that should add up to something, but it doesn't. And you wonder why, and ask yourself whether you've fallen through a wormhole into some alternate universe (those eddies in the space-time continuum can be dangerous if you're not careful) in which knitting and progress are in no way connected. It's like a patch of Stockinette Slog, but without the stockinette.
And then it hits you. The reason that you're making no discernible progress on any particular project is because you've got three things on the needles (no, we aren't counting the ones that don't count, hush), and something on the spinning wheel, and all of that time that would add up to progress on one project has been spread thin.
Why, yes, this is all my way of constructing an elaborate excuse for having very little to show you today, why do you ask? Look! I changed out the yarn in my seasonal yarn bowl to pretty spring greens and purples and pinks:
Why greens and purples and pinks, you ask? Here's why:
That's the orchid tree in our backyard. It's covered with these beauties.
And my Douglas Irises have consented to produce some of their rare blooms (I live at the far southern reaches of their range; they infinitely prefer Mt. Tamalpais, but then again, don't we all?).
As for greens, our eastern oak has leafed out; time to hang the hammock out in its shade.
The orange trees are in bloom, and the whole neighborhood smells lovely, especially in the early morning coolth (I don't care what anyone thinks, that word should exist).
And our kitchen smells of champagne guavas, which, alas, no-one but Rick really likes (anyone want some guavas? we're a bit overloaded this year...).
Oh, right, knitting. OK, if you insist. I did get through six repeats of the scarf I'm testing out for Anne. I'd actually gotten through 5 and a half repeats, but then discovered that the half repeat was stuck in between two full repeats, which was most definitely not where it belonged. I frogged it and started over. I love the colors of this yarn!
And here's the spinning that I've been doing. I'm working to finish up the tencel-blend roving. One it's plied, I will move on (finally!) to Linguistics, which has been waiting patiently in my spindle basket. I need to start looking for some additional bobbins for the Traddie, as I only have one (!!), which makes for some interesting finagling during the plying stages of spinning.
Besides that, I've been working on the Dream in Color baby jacket, although it hasn't changed much since the last photo, and the pink and green plain ol' sock that I keep around for Meetings During Which I Ought Not To Be Staring At My Knitting. Stockinette is good for that.