Around this time last year I was coming off a bout of knitting madness. I had knitted something for just about everyone in my family for Christmas and after the holidays started in on a project for myself: a lovely, leaf-patterned scarf. I shared a peek at it with you here. This was to be no ordinary scarf. This was a 6 1/2 foot long, lusciously thick, incredibly soft, alpaca and wool scarf. Yes, that's right. 78 inches of wooly wonder. It knit up quickly on size 15 needles and I worked on it here and there. But then there was that first glimmer of warmth in the air. I stopped cold. I don't knit in spring. That's all there is to it. I lose all desire. So I packed away the scarf and moved on to spring.
The urge to knit finally returned about a week ago and I busted out that luscious leaf-patterned scarf. As I reviewed the pattern trying to figure out where I had left off, I stopped short. I had already knit 76 inches of the dang thing. How did I not realize this? Well I picked up that scarf and finished it off, lickety-split. I had waited eleven months to finish two inches. Oy vey.
Here I am trying to take a photo of it in the bathroom mirror. Don't I look serious?
Isn't it lovely? (The pattern is from the Vogue Knitting: Accessorize book available at the Ann Arbor library.)