Does anyone remember seeing Star Wars at the movie theatre, for the first time? (1977 for me) What I remember the most about that adventure, is walking out of the theatre and being struck by the suddenly slo-mo-dullness of our insipid, earthly reality.

That’s kind of how I’m feeling about knitting, these days. In a knit galaxy, far, far, away, my thrill-starved brain zips through knit blogs and yarn catalogs and musty bins of ancient stash.

But just like the movie, my little knit fantasies inevitably come to an end, leaving me with nothing but my own Earthbound Knitterality.

What's that, you ask?

That. Over there. On the couch. That damn Blaze sleeve. Progressing (not), at a pace of, um, one row per day.

One row. 74 stitches. One Day. I fuck you not.

Pedal to the muddle. Baby.

A Covenant
I absolutely will finish Blaze before beginning or finishing anything else. I will.

No, I will.

But just because I’m committed for life to one project, doesn’t mean I can’t look around, right? I mean, my eyes ain't fallen outta my head,or anything. Yet.

First on my Post-Blaze agenda, is a little something for my sister’s April birthday. I’m thinking of this scarf, in this yarn (booty from a Knotty Girl contest):



(For closeup views on the scarf, click the picts at Amy’s blog.)
For whatever reason, the Clapotis has never quite spoken to me, but I have been eyeing that not-so-little number of Amy’s, since before Christmas. The yarn I’m using is much heavier than what is recommended for the pattern, so I suppose a swatch is in order. (I’ll use much larger needles, of course.) And if I go with fringe, I’m thinking of adding beads, a la Gibknits. After the tutorial.

Blah Blah Blah..
At the risk of sounding redundantly repetitive, again, I’m still pretty overwhelmed with work and home issues. The work pressures will slow down considerably after Thursday, since I’ll be on Spring Break! ::boing!:: (that’s a spring sound)

However, my husband is still working day and night, which leaves me little time for righteous blogging. Or unrighteous blogging for that matter.

In other words, the juices in my bloggin’ noggin’ are runnin' kind of dry. I've simply run out of clever things to say.

And Jesus wept.