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It's official - I'm addicted to knitting. I've moved on from rectangles and squares, and I've learned how to increase and decrease. I know three stitches and am working on an irregularly-shaped project that involves buttons (but not button holes because that's just a bit too wacky for me right now). I have a "don't forget" list of things I need to bring to my in-laws' this weekend and on it is my bag of knitting paraphernalia. I have considered keeping it in front with me so I can knit on the drive down (please note that I'm not actually doing the driving), and I plan on going through my irregularly-shaped project with my mum-in-law to make sure I don't make a pig's ear of it, although I'm sure knitted pig's ears are in demand somewhere in the world. As indicated yesterday, I'm a little bit too excited about my personalised stitch markers. I'm also quite thrilled about my new bamboo knitting needles. I find myself searching for knitting patterns online and buying way too much yarn. I'm hooked.
It's a bit strange because I'm not really the crafty type and I don't usually have the patience for fiddly things. I can't sew/hate sewing, would never find the energy to do needlepoint, I haven't had the urge to make my own Christmas wreaths, and I can't quite come to grips with the concept of pottery. But for some reason, knitting has engulfed me. It's like someone's brainwashed me into enjoying it - expect to find me peddling furry scarves at the airport soon.
Seriously, if you find me knitting stuff like this
and presenting it to people as gifts, feel free to stage an intervention.
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