Ah, what to knit next. Isn’t this a delicious problem? It’s almost a disease if you think about it in the right way—I feel dis-ease when I get the yen to start something new. The treatment is liberal applications of Ravelry right to my brain. I scroll my way through my queue, where I have 13 pages that include 363 projects waiting for me to knit.
When I start to imagine what I’m going to knit next, the item always looks quite similar to the last time I fantasized about adding a project, no matter what I actually end up making. It comes to me like a dream, like a movie slightly out of focus. Celtic music filled with longing pipes through the air as if a melancholy fairy band is hiding behind the gorse. In a long, purple linen tunic woven by a coven of magical seamstresses, I’m leaping lightly from rock to rock on a foggy beach. The air and the stones below my feet are light blue, like my cornflower eyes. My hair is long and red, hanging in waves that match the ones rolling onto shore. I’m searching for my long-lost love who will sail into sight any moment, his sails furling with the power of a thousand winds. While I’m searching, of course, I’m keeping toasty-warm in my thick, coat-length cardigan that’s hung artfully over my magical tunic. The sweater is knit from thousands of cables, ribbons of sea foam, and millions of wishes and prayers for everlasting love, and I have to tell you, the drape is perfect.
I can almost see it.
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