Blogmas With Oddknits #3

                                                                        How Many WIPs is Too Many?

The other night, disaster happened, my new and expensive symfonie circular needles fell apart in my hands, I do not know how, so I have sent them back and whilst waiting for their replacement I have been working on other things. The main problem is that I was using them to make my Dad his Christmas sock, so today I picked up some new yarn, freed up some other needles by finishing off a second sock that has been hanging about for a while now. I am now well on my way, 3 inches down of a denim blue pair. 

So I have two socks on the go, a poncho and some slippers that are waiting for me to free up the needles that the poncho is on. I ha pave my Lilypond bunting that I started to use up the Lilypond Leftovers. I have a Basic Sophie’s Universe awaiting optional squares. I have a crochet drags that is apart of my project for the new year. My final WIP is The Grand Adventure of Rowly. You would think that is plenty for me to work on, not including my other crafts or interests. 

With all this in mind, I have the cast on itch, I want a big project again, what I liked about Sophie and Lilypond was that I could do a bit go away and come back, once you got going you didn’t need to think about it either. I really want to make a cowl from ravelry, I bought the patter about a month ago and half of the yarn. I want to make a blanket for a friend at work’s grandchild. There are also a couple of Aran jumpers and cardigans I want to have a go at. Oh the decisions what do I want to do first? 

I keep telling myself once I’ve finished this I can start something fun but I haven’t got the motivation, starting something new is refreshing and exciting, maybe even learning some new techniques. Maybe it is because I feel stuck, trapped in my depression that I am trying to free myself with yarn and all things  new in a vain attempt make myself happy. Only to get tangled back into the web and dragged back down into my very own pit of despair. 

All the best until the morrow.

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