She was fine until she found the internet. And then worse, the b l o g s and the f o r u m s (f o r a). Now she’s going to drown (she’s quite short and you can drown in two inches, don’t you know) in furrin yarns and she HASN’T A CLUE what to ask for!!!
She is scared.
She won a contest or two, got to pick from a stash giveaway, found some nice people to swap with (which adds another million reasons to be scared: package not arriving, package not intact, package contents do not please and so on). She was the very lucky recipient of the random kindness of a total stranger who took time out from moving house to send her not just the metal needles she unashamedly begged for but also enough alpaca for a baby blanket, her first-ever sock yarn, and two books that she’s heard about.
She is humbled.
She thought heaven was when you had your own yarn winder and interchangeables…
When someone asks her, what would you like for me to get for you, she wonders if it would be polite to say “Your LYS, please”.
She is bemused.
She is knitting this because she had the yarn (acrylic, too little for most things and most of the babies she knows are boys anyway) and the needles and likes the monotony of garter stitch and the magic of short rows. But she will most probably unknit it again because what’s the fun in a single-coloured multidirectional scarf anyway?
She is directionless.