A New Hampshire Knitter

The lack of knitting mojo has abated... at least, slightly. Once a week, I try to make it to quilting class. Sometimes, lack of time or lack of funds take precedence, but there's a quilting class that I try to get to once a week. Well, Nancy, the woman who runs the classes out of her home has just installed hardwood floors and has requested that we not wear our shoes indoors. Reasonable. So I would acquire slippers. But rather than buy something, I would knit them. Use stash, save money. When I knit something, I like to know what to expect. My first pair of socks drove me crazy. I'm not one for trusting the pattern, even though it's something I tend to preach. That's why I had to read the pattern to the Pocketbook Slippers many many times before I could bring myself to cast on. The directions just didn't make sense. I knew I knit a square, then I seamed up some side and voila, slippers, but I couldn't for the life of me look at the pattern, and see how i

I have been abandoned. Not by a person, no, something else. I have been abandoned by my knitting mojo. My grandmother loves to exclaim to anyone who will listen that I am constantly knitting. Constantly. And once, it was true. But I don't think I've knit in almost two weeks. Partially, the reasons are external- I have so little free time lately that when I do,  I can't do more than stare glumly at the television set. But that effect is a double edged sword- because I am so tired at night lately, I have been left uninspired. By my  yarn, by my queue, by my works in progress. This is an awful feeling, one that I'm sure many knitters are acquainted with. Maybe soon, my mojo will return. Hopefully, soon, my mojo will return.