Some knitters seem to think there is no occasion for which a knitted item is an inappropriate gift. I am definitely one of those knitters.
I can't help myself. Sure, I can be snarky about charity knitting--but then I find myself knitting baby things for new parents whom I know only slightly. Is it my fault that my siblings won't breed?
My latest seizure was deciding to make a little lacy something for a young girl I'll be seeing this weekend. I pulled out some yarn that's been waiting in the stash a couple of years for just such an occasion--I bought it with a little girl sweater in mind but without a fixed occasion or certain recipient in mind. As I said, I can't help myself.
So I'm crocheting Tracy Moncrieff's "Shrug It Off, Girl!" with the aim of being done by Saturday morning. I honestly think I can do it. Really.
And while I was digging through the stash at 9:30 last night, I again ran across the tweedy oatmeal wool that would be *perfect* for a man's vest, if only I had 400 more yards of it. I have a twinge of regret every time I look at that yarn, because it is not quite enough to make anything, and it's from a small producer and was purchased several years ago.
But it got me thinking that I would really like to make Jane's dad a vest for his birthday at the end of next month. So I just came home with 10 skeins of O-wool Balance in a nice dark gray. So much for my "finish two, start one" rule--and so much for the desperately needed decluttering.
And I think right now I shouldn't be blogging, I should be crocheting. I have a gift to finish.