I have been knitting off and on since I was about twelve years old. Sometimes successfully; sometimes not so. Now that we are occupying the tundra, I have revived my interest in the woolly arts. I have taken up my needles, turned up my iTunes, and attempted to bring some color to the gray days of winter. As per usual, I have grandiose plans, but am trying to limit myself to smaller manageable projects. Unfortunately, so many talented needlework artists post their creations on various sites that my fingers are twitching with the desire to stitch that and that and that ..... and maybe this. And so begins the dreaded stash of unfinished this and thats. I still keep a partially completed sweater that I began for my son when he was ten. It's a gift. The procrastination gene.
Last week I took an unexpected tumble while I was ice dancing. Okay, I hear your snickering (so impolite) ..... it was that last step on the staircase (it's always trying to trip me up) ... and inattentiveness .... and, if you really must know, clumsiness! At any rate, my hands are knitting; so is my foot.
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