There are two kinds of detours in my knitting life: 1) the kind that happens when a project isn't working out as hoped, and 2) the kind that happens when something so inspiring comes along that I get swept away in the excitement of it all. Unfortunately, today I'm detouring for the first reason. My welted sweater wasn't making me happy. It wasn't the design; it was the yarn. The silk/wool, so beautiful in the ball, didn't live up to its promise. For several days I kept telling myself that I'd just finish the back (yes, this is to be a PIECED design) and then I'd make a decision. But by yesterday afternoon, I realized that I didn't even want to work that far. The yarn had no body, it was already pilling badly, and I could tell that I'd hate the finished garment and never wear it. I pulled out my Sock the Second and by this evening I'll have a pair of socks.
I'm not abandoning the welted design, just taking a little detour to refresh myself mentally, while thinking (in the background of my brain) carefully about what yarn to switch to for the pattern. My detour has me thinking about mitts, gloves, hats, and scarves, 'cause it's cold outside now that November's here. And it's far, far too grey. I'm thinking about a really special pair of mitts or gloves, and my thoughts have been turning to the art of
William Morris. I just love this,
and this,
and this.
Reminds me of this.
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| Hydrangea basking in the early morning light outside my window. |
So, while I finish my sock, I'll plan. Sometimes thinking about the road yet to be travelled is the best part.
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| View out my car window while waiting for the Glenora Ferry. |
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