. . . and deeper in debt.  If you remember the song that contains that lyric, you may be older then you're willing to admit.  

 

The Hanging Garden is coming along very nicely, three repeats of the pattern done.  See?

 

 

So, as if I didn't already have more than enough projects going, I've been lured down the dark alleyways of

 

 

After all, there's always a pair of socks on the needles, usually lurking in my tote bag for emergencies.  There's also a huge pile of sock yarn waiting for its turn to be "next."  I think my goal will be to complete the mate to the lonely Sockotta sock that's been waiting for a partner since last fall, in addition to the pair that's currently about to dive into the froggy pond (gauge just is not being cooperative).

 

Now if I could just figure out some way to convice my employer to pay me to stay home, life would be perfect.  Well.  Better than it is, anyway.  And before anyone gets concerned about that, life is actually pretty good, once I manage to escape the Systems Dungeon and find my way out into some fresh air.  W*rking for a living still strikes me as being a horrible waste of knitting time, but it does pay for the yarn and needles.

 

It's amazing how easily a project can eat up your life.  This weekend is a good example.  Household chores were going swimmingly Saturday morning, until I decided to take a break and pick up my knitting, "just for a few minutes."

 

Famous last words.

 

The Rose of England leaped out of its basket and into my hands, and from that moment forward consumed my every waking moment.  The result is a much larger Rose, chortling to itself as it relaxes on its lone circular needle, but far fewer household tasks completed than planned.  Somewhere in there, Rose met The Infernal DigiCam, with this result:

 

 

It's gotten bigger since then.  Much bigger.  Don't ask me how; the weekend is an alpaca-fuzzed blur.  I seem to recall sleeping now and then, and evidence suggests that meals of some sort happened, but I wouldn't swear to any of it.  All I know is that this innocent-looking piece of lace turned itself into an all-consuming obsession for two whole days. 

Lace is taking over.  Looking around the Knitting Throne last night, I counted no fewer than five (5!!) lace projects on the needles.  Yes, five.  And that's just the lace!

 

Karabella Gossamer scarf
KnitPicks Shadow scarf
Bernat Coordinates baby blanket
Schaefer Andrea "Hanging Garden" stole
Webs Alpaca/Silk "Rose of England" shawl / tablecloth

 

What in the wool has gotten into me?  Never before have I had so many lace projects active at the same time.  That's not to say that there haven't been that many total projects on needles at once, but in the past most of the projects have not been lace.  How to account for this sudden proliferation of holey knitting?  Is there some contagion in the air?  Have I gone completely bonkers?  The full moon?  It's much simpler than that.

 

It's all Mmario's fault.

 

He keeps pointing me at gorgeous patterns and splendiferous yarns, then tells me about all the things he has on the needles.  What's a girl to do but cast on more?  Finish one, start four, right? 

 

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

 

On another front, the Socks that Rock "Pebble Beach" colorway socks are done, toes grafted and ends woven in.  They're just waiting for The Infernal DigiCam to cooperate in photographing them before they are called into service as toe-warmers.  And since the weather here is becoming increasingly prone to autumnal chill, toe-warmers will be needed sooner rather than later.

 

As usual, no sooner were these socks done than another pair hit the needles, this time in a Milenweit self-patterning yarn in shades of red, orange and yellow.  This is somewhat bewildering to me, as these are colors I rarely wear, being more of a blues and greens kinda girl.  There must have been some good reason in my mind when I bought it.  Maybe.  Perhaps it's just for contrast, as the last several pair were all in the blue and green families. Perhaps it's something else entirely.  I've given up trying to figure out what goes on in my alleged mind when the one communal brain cell makes its way through the other Splinters to roost in my head.  On the other hand, that's one purchase we can't blame on poor Mmario, as he was nowhere within 20 miles when I snatched it up at the yarn store. 

 

 

 

Time to sing the Hallelujah Chorus over here - the Peacock Feathers Shawl is done!  It's looking somewhat bedraggled at the moment, as lace tends to do before it's blocked, but given time and about a bazillion little pins, it'll be fine.

 

Now that the albatross, er, Peacock, is off my needles, I'm rewarding myself with a hank of Schaefer "Andrea" silk laceweight, in their "Kermie" colorway.  Yummy!   Now that I've found the perfect mounting points for my swift and ball winder, the hank became a cake of yarny goodness in record time last night.  Then I settled in to knit and watch a bit of the US Open Tennis, only to find myself staring at a picture of a rain-drenched stadium and hearing that yesterday's play had been cancelled because of tropical storm Ernesto.  Oh, foo!

 

Still muttering about inconsiderate rain storms, I dug out my Crystal Palace size 4s, and began to cast on the Andrea to make the Hanging Gardens stole pattern from KnitPicks.  I'm loving working with this yarn; it's a dream to knit, flows through your hands like water, doesn't show any signs of being splitty, and the colors are dazzling. 

 

Moving right along, it's September already, time to start thinking about winter woolies.  Socks are progressing, though slowly, as the Mmario-induced obsession with lace has taken over most of my knitting.  The top-down v-neck is sulking in its bag, as it never did get finished in time to be worn this summer.  Trying to placate it, I've promised to have it done to take with me on the SeaSocks cruise next April.  That gives me 7 months to finish it off; any bets on whether it'll get done?