On Monday all the weather forecasters were hysterically predicting historic storms, deadly blizzards, huge accumulations of snow, yadda yadda, and all we got was pretty ice and an inch of snow. Why the storm veered around us, I don't know or care much, as it did give me a day off work, so the dire predictions worked to my benefit. Actually the roads were pretty grim on Tuesday.
If I'm not careful, I may soon be panic-stricken, as I'm nearing the end of my current knitting project, and although I have socks galore and gloves on the needles, I haven't decided on The Next Big One, which is starting to make me uncomfortable.
My almost-finished sweater is snugger than ideal (you'd think that constantly accumulating incentive to drop a few pounds would actually have some positive effect, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong. I'm not proud of that) but otherwise is turning out well.
Except for the itchy sleeves.
After all my agonizing about the pretty yarn that's too itchy (and oh yes, the wrong gauge) for the front of the sweater, I managed to ignore the fact that it's in some stripes on the sleeves. So the Itch Factor mandates a layer of clothing to protect my skin from The Itch which makes the Snug Factor more pressing and less happy.
Perhaps I'll plan better next time.
It could happen.
Actually, I do have a plan for a Next One, my erstwhile very carefully planned Out of Australia project, the one I was going to knit on the flight home from vacation. I'm just not sure I want to.
I do have a stalled sweater in fine-gauge handspun merino that won't itch and won't be snug that's starting to make me a little edgy because I really like it and would like to wear it but it's been there in that pile in that state for a year or so, although once I get past the irksome bits (shaping edges and sewing things together), it'll be smooth sailing: miles of stocking stitch at six and a half stitches to the inch which isn't as bad as it sounds, at least, not quite.
Potential panic averted.
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