In the meantime, I've finished the sweater and have moved on to the Yarn Harlot's Earl Grey socks, which, in following her own tradition, I've modified to a smaller size so I can make them for me. I'm using the Knit Picks Essential Kettle Dyed yarn I got from Thepinksheep for Christmas. Most of you may not consider this fancy yarn, but it's much softer than what I normally use (which is the yarn that will be left over after a nuclear bomb goes off) and the colour is fabbity! It's blue. A deep, dark, rich blue with some lighter highlights and I love it.
I can't wait to finish these so I can sit there petting them and drooling over the colour. I rather like blue, just in case you hadn't noticed.
It's funny though. I remember not knowing what my favourite colour was as a child. I used to sit there thinking about it and thinking I was odd for not knowing when everyone else in the world did. I went through a red phase, a purple phase and possibly a yellow phase. Any green other than forest green was out because my room was lime green and that got a little old after a while. The one phase I am absolutely sure I never went though at all was pink. If you had asked me what colour I didn't like, I would have been able to tell you that pink and brown, and definitely the two together are out. Oh, and then there were the brown/orange/yellow combos that were fortunately going out as I was becoming aware of colour schemes. Anyway, I have never liked pink. Unfortunately for me, my mother liked both pink and lace and often forced, or tried to force, me into them anyway. This became quite expensive with time because not only did I do my utmost to ensure that these items of clothing were "worn out" or damaged beyond all repair as soon as humanly possible (I may have enlisted the dogs help in this, but I don't want to unfairly incriminate those who rest in peace), but both of us wound up needing therapy as well. I've still not recovered from a certain pink, purple and white striped t-shirt with lace at the neck and sleeves. I hold this t-shirt personally responsible for my failing to develop any sort of sense of fashion and pleasure for pretty clothing. It represented my conscious choice to reject any items of clothing my mother selected for me because they would all be like this t-shirt - frilly, girly, and Dumb (I was 4 at the time. My vocabulary was limited and much of my world was Dumb). After that t-shirt, I went for sporty, cool, boyish and basically anything my mother really didn't want me to wear. I never recovered from that. Sorry Mom, but you shouldn't have made me wear it. You clearly should have just allowed me to wear horrible things and do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. This was all so obvious to me, but you just failed to see its advantages *dramatic sigh* /tongue in cheek
Back to knitting, I'm hoping that knitting something simple and blue (there, I've just jinxed it, haven't I?) will help me relax this weekend and return me to sanity, or at least return the little I have to me. Like The Harlot says, knitting a garter stitch scarf has it's theraputic value.