I've not been in much of a finishing mood lately, and although I have finished the Bear's socks (and am deliriously happy with them, for all their manifest flaws), I haven't felt any great desire to roll my sleeves up and block the bolero. It's in my bedroom right now, sitting atop a peak of laundry, glowering at me like an overcast sky. And what is a knitter to do when she doesn't fancy the finishing? Why, do lots of starting, of course. Suddenly, yarn that has been quietly hoarded for weeks announces that it MUST be knit NOW. Odd balls jump off the shelves of department stores at me, begging to be taken home and put on my needles. The urge to make another Mason-Dixon baby kimono (my fourth in six months) for my cousin's new baby becomes overwhelming, and although I secretly know that a Mothercare voucher would probably be of more use to the parents, it matters not, for everything has become subordinate to my frenzied neophilia.
The purple is a swatch of Sirdar Baby Bamboo. I like this new yarn very much - it's my first try with bamboo, and although I found it slippery and slow to work with, I love how soft and sheeny it is. Perhaps I'll buy enough for to make a summer Blossom for the Moomin. Working round anti-clockwise, there's the back part of the baby kimono, in Debbie Bliss cotton. Then the pale pink is my swatch for Arisaig in the vintage 4-ply I bought the purpose. It looks like it's coming out nicely on gauge, and the yarn is delightfully springy.
In dark pink, my superswatch for the lace blouse project. And then finally, in the dark blue, my new superswatch for the lace blouse project - because it transpires that Debbie Bliss Cathay has the texture of limp spaghetti, and I for one cannot make lace from limp spaghetti. Instead, I've dipped into the stash again and restarted with Debbie Bliss Cotton Cashmere (picked up at the same sale as the Cathay), which is good deal more resilient, and a good deal more inclined to do what I want. Of course, my next job is to block the swatches, and when I'm doing that I'll have no reason to procrastinate about the bolero any longer, and you the reader can finally learn whether a 25-year-old mum of two has any business running around in a bit of white fluff with a bow at the front.