The yarn is packed. The projects are packed. The needles, straight, circular and double pointed, are packed. The bag of tools (stitch markers, scissors, measuring tape, gauge and needle measurer, tapestry needles) is packed. The knitting books are packed. I'm ready to move. In fact, I've already moved eight of twelve bins of yarn to the new digs. I want to cry: I miss my yarn. I haven't done much knitting in the prelude to moving, the packing, the throwing-out, the trying on old clothes to see if they fit, the rediscovery of knitting books I'd forgotten I owned (fell behind a bookcase). Now all I have to do is remove myself from one domicile to another. Have I mentioned how much I dislike moving? Quite aside from the expense, the mishegas, the agita, it leaves me no time to knit. I spent some time at Nine Inch Needles last night to knit with the boys. I had to dig through a couple of boxes to find a project I could take with me, because all my projects are packed.
This too, will pass.
I probably won't post again til after I've moved. And had a very strong gin & tonic.