I seem to be stuck on socks. My brain can’t seem to push itself beyond those four tiny needles making a tube, a heel flap, a heel, a foot, a toe. And repeat. I’m on autopilot with my knitting right now, and socks are small, easily transportable, quick to finish, and quite adorable. To that extent, I am enjoying my sock knitting. But at the same time, I miss having a bigger expense of knitting creativity. I’m not dreaming of other projects or color combinations. I’m barely feeling the pull to buy new yarn, because I can’t imagine what it might become. But I can’t NOT knit. I can’t watch TV with empty hands, or have a lunch break with nothing but lunch, or take a long car ride with only my family to keep my occupied. So, I make socks. And when one sock is done, I immediately start another.
I do have WIPs waiting. I have two shawls that I’d love to wear, if I could bring myself to finish them. But Miss Winkle has those loops that are annoying to make, and the other has a lace pattern so complicated I have to really concentrate. I have a whole cardigan waiting just for a sleeve and a half. And I have a blanket, but to be honest, I’m fine letting that hibernate until cooler weather comes back. I haven’t even blocked my beautiful Orbit scarf; it’s too much bother, and I can wear it fine as is.
Is this me saying I’ve lost my knitting mojo? Maybe. Probably. I don’t really know. I can’t put my finger on it. I know I’ve lost it in the past, and it always comes back, and I believe it will this time. And until it does, I’ll make socks. In fact, I finished two last night, and looking at them on my feet brought me much pleasure.
The upside to not being knitting-obsessed is having more reading time, so I’ve been doing a lot more of that lately. My best recent read was I Liked My Life by Abby Fabiaschi. Not exactly the happiest of books, but I found it engrossing.
Here’s hoping your knitting is going better than mine, friends!