It's like this.
I've rediscovered knitting. Yeah, I know, it was there all along, but I'd sworn it off years ago and given away my collection of needles, books, and yarn. I'd stopped knitting. It was too hard, too useless (in Florida), took too long, etc. etc.
I'm finishing up my third knitted project right now. I'm still doing things with straight sides and no pieces, but I'm learning stitches and perfecting little things like counting rows and remembering whether I am knitting or purling. I have another project directly in line, and I'm planning my excursion into socks with a yoga sock pattern (no toes, no heels, just dealing with the 4 double pointed needles, which, trust me, is PLENTY).
I'm a yarn whore, too. The addiction, I get it. I have three plastic storage boxes full of various yarns. Lucky for me, they are all small enough to slide under the couch. Well, one of them is in use as a step for Ophelia to reach her spot at the window, because it's a bit too tall to go under the couch. But she NEEDS it sitting there.
The Husband is a yarn pimp. He finds yarn and holds it out to me, telling me how cool the color is or how nice it feels and how he wants a scarf out of it. He has one scarf so far and I think he intends I will make him enough scarves that he can wrap them around every portion of his body to walk outside. I told him that if he brings me yarn, a pattern, and the appropriate needles (if I don't have them), I'd knit what he wants. I figured that would help me with my own addiction.
I was wrong. He's learned to read the code on the labels around the skeins. I'm in trouble.
So , that's where I've been. It's hard to type and knit at the same time.