Startitis has me in its evil grip. Well, not so much startitis, but its even more insidious cousin, "thinking-about-starting-something-itis". This means me roaming the Net, messing up all my nicely organised bookshelves by pulling books out, leafing through and stuffing them back, poking in the stash, buying Scottish Tweed on sale (ouch, mind you, half-price? Fate, I tell you. Fate.) and spreading balls of yarn all over the dining room floor. And I wonder why I live alone :-)
I've cast on a pattern from a vintage Golden Hands Book, The Gentle Needle Arts, for a "Small Table Mat" - but in Rowan Big Wool Fusion on 12mm needles. Yes, I am odd. I'm hoping it's going to turn into a sort of Hemlock-style smooshy blanket for sofa-snuggling, but we'll see. I've ripped off the bottom of the Sheepy Yoke sweater as it was decidedly cropped (ahem) and I'm knitting down a couple of inches. I've picked up the v-stitch crochet afghan again and worked a few more rows.
In short, this cold and whatever strain of startitis I have contracted have turned me into a fibre-fiend with the attention span of a senile goldfish. Nice.
However, I do seem to have gained a cat. Every knitter seems to have a cat - now I can join the club. It has turned up yowling for grub and has taken up residence in the shed with a box with a blankie and a dish full of kibbles. I still haven't worked out if it is a boy cat or a girl cat, but it is very friendly and I think it's staying as the previous owner has moved away. Apparently it was called Charlie, but I strongly feel that Charlie is not a good choice of name. Well, not for a cat anyway. It seems to have attracted the nickname Toerag which I have a funny feeling might stick.
That's all for now, my brain is still partially seized with evil cold germs. However, keep your fingers crossed for me, I *may* have some good news. Maybe.
~*~
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