I've cheated on my sweaters in progress and begun a quick and dirty alpaca chunky jacket. Remember that article a million years ago in the back of Interweave Knits - or no, maybe it was threads - and was it someone whose book writing is the stuff of legendary book tours? I think it was. At any rate, this she of whom I speak wrote in tawdry terms about cheating on her knitting. I'm SOOOOO guilty of it. And the back is nearly half done. Did I mention quick?
And on a recent road trip I knit three hasty little bowls that I hastily ran through the washing machine when I returned. They sit in a fuzzy nested spot on the computer, and they've caused all sorts of office chaos since they've arrived. "ooh, look" "how cool" "I have to knit." I was given the yarn as a gift last year, so it's now visibly in use and the gift-giver oohed, too. Suitable for dispensing October sweets or for pulling names out of a container.
One yarrow sock done, one three inches in. Elfine is awaiting my attention, but she'll keep safely. I need ribbon I like better for the bagstopper. I know I should work on the Equinox, but now that I know I have enough yarn in the right dyelot, I wonder if I didn't skimp on length before the armscye shaping. I'll have to spend a little quality time with that, and right now I'm all for the repetitive project with little thinking.
I'm knitting. I'm cheating, but I'm knitting.
And I'm here too late after going to a choir performance. What the heck? I should go home. There are papers to grade, and I can knit that repetitive alpaca while I read papers. Okay. Not. But I could grade for 30 minutes, knit for 15, rinse, repeat.
No pictures, but there's been knitting. I swear it.