I have already written about how knitters can spend, fill, lose and manage time around knitting. I personally spent/filled an entire 6 hours of flying (from Bellingham, Washington to Honolulu, Hawaii) happily knitting. These hours just fly by without my noticing, except perhaps for a sore bum.
But sometime ago much closer to 9/11, my needles were not allowed on a flight; they were confiscated as potential weapons. My protestations that any ballpoint pen or sharpened pencil would be equally dangerous fell on deaf ears and perhaps I was lucky that I stopped arguing when I did. I was able to make the flight, but it was so sad to have yarn and not be able to knit for lack of needles. That flight from Seattle to Milwaukee was one of the longest 5 hours in my life. So it is during those hours I go into knitting withdrawal, trying to figure out what else to do with myself for hours on a plane. I have to say I can suffer a version of this same affliction even in my own home. I suffered it last night, for instance. (It wasn't due to lack of needles or yarn last night, I just couldn't focus.) Knitting withdrawal is that limbo land between knowing what needs to be done and doing what needs to be done. It can be a self-imposed lack of starting, or in the case of confiscated needles, an externally imposed non-start. Either way, beware of a knitter in the throes of knitting withdrawal, it can be ugly.
Here are a few of the telltale symptoms of a knitter headed toward knitting withdrawal. There's a certain twitchiness in the fingers because they don't have anything better to do with them. They have trouble focusing on anything because the knitter is so bothered by not being able to figure out what to do next. (If you're in the midst of a project you know what to do next, the pattern tells you.) There's often a certain amount of rummaging through pattern books or online searching for patterns or looking through one's stash at home to see what can be found. Or if the knitter is away from home, they can be found at a LYS trying to score a hit of that perfect yarn to work with the pattern or needles brought from home.
The impact of the possibility of getting or possibly suffering from knitting withdrawal causes me to pack too much yarn when I travel. (Heaven forbid I run short of the right sized needles, right colour of yarn or the right pattern because we all know how difficult it is to find a Michaels or JoAnn or LYS in a city, right?) The thought that I might have a spare few hours without yarn and needles to comfort me means I generally have as much knitting stuff as clothing stuff in my suitcase. Or if I am going to try to knit food when I travel, the effort it takes to review the pattern, guess at the right length of yarn and wind it into a small ball, collect all the appropriate patterns, make sure I have the stitch counter, sewing needle, and all the right colours of yarn makes the entire packing process much more difficult. I simply can't throw things together in 30 minutes, it takes a few hours of preparation. The motivation to avoid the pain of knitting withdrawal is that strong!
So I sit here writing tonight because I am at a crossroads. I know I said I needed to finish up several of those WIPs, but they are not calling to me. I just found two hanks of a lovely Malabrigo yarn in a beautiful blue/teal colour that are shouting out to me, but I don't quite know what to make with them. I feel stuck and am hoping to avoid knitting withdrawal because frankly it isn't pretty for those around me.
But then there's my Baby Blue Boy sweater. As you can see I have the sides sewn together. It was in fact this project that highlighted for me how poor my skills were in seaming knitted items and caused me to move to knitting food so I could improve. Apparently I have improved since I last put down this sweater because I'm quite satisfied with the way these seams look. You can see I have one sleeve done, but do you see the problem with it? Yes, it has only one light blue stripes. It seems I didn't notice this the first time I made it either since the photo I took before I ripped it out had only one stripe too. (I am consistent, right or wrong!) I've been stash diving (causing me to find the Malabrigo) and think I've found enough of the light blue to add that second stripe. Tonight I'll be ripping out the ribbing, it's too long anyway, and a bit of the sleeve. I will be able to fix this problem. So at least for now, I can stave off that knitting withdrawal by finishing off Blue Boy, but there always tomorrow night.
But sometime ago much closer to 9/11, my needles were not allowed on a flight; they were confiscated as potential weapons. My protestations that any ballpoint pen or sharpened pencil would be equally dangerous fell on deaf ears and perhaps I was lucky that I stopped arguing when I did. I was able to make the flight, but it was so sad to have yarn and not be able to knit for lack of needles. That flight from Seattle to Milwaukee was one of the longest 5 hours in my life. So it is during those hours I go into knitting withdrawal, trying to figure out what else to do with myself for hours on a plane. I have to say I can suffer a version of this same affliction even in my own home. I suffered it last night, for instance. (It wasn't due to lack of needles or yarn last night, I just couldn't focus.) Knitting withdrawal is that limbo land between knowing what needs to be done and doing what needs to be done. It can be a self-imposed lack of starting, or in the case of confiscated needles, an externally imposed non-start. Either way, beware of a knitter in the throes of knitting withdrawal, it can be ugly.
Here are a few of the telltale symptoms of a knitter headed toward knitting withdrawal. There's a certain twitchiness in the fingers because they don't have anything better to do with them. They have trouble focusing on anything because the knitter is so bothered by not being able to figure out what to do next. (If you're in the midst of a project you know what to do next, the pattern tells you.) There's often a certain amount of rummaging through pattern books or online searching for patterns or looking through one's stash at home to see what can be found. Or if the knitter is away from home, they can be found at a LYS trying to score a hit of that perfect yarn to work with the pattern or needles brought from home.
The impact of the possibility of getting or possibly suffering from knitting withdrawal causes me to pack too much yarn when I travel. (Heaven forbid I run short of the right sized needles, right colour of yarn or the right pattern because we all know how difficult it is to find a Michaels or JoAnn or LYS in a city, right?) The thought that I might have a spare few hours without yarn and needles to comfort me means I generally have as much knitting stuff as clothing stuff in my suitcase. Or if I am going to try to knit food when I travel, the effort it takes to review the pattern, guess at the right length of yarn and wind it into a small ball, collect all the appropriate patterns, make sure I have the stitch counter, sewing needle, and all the right colours of yarn makes the entire packing process much more difficult. I simply can't throw things together in 30 minutes, it takes a few hours of preparation. The motivation to avoid the pain of knitting withdrawal is that strong!
So I sit here writing tonight because I am at a crossroads. I know I said I needed to finish up several of those WIPs, but they are not calling to me. I just found two hanks of a lovely Malabrigo yarn in a beautiful blue/teal colour that are shouting out to me, but I don't quite know what to make with them. I feel stuck and am hoping to avoid knitting withdrawal because frankly it isn't pretty for those around me.
But then there's my Baby Blue Boy sweater. As you can see I have the sides sewn together. It was in fact this project that highlighted for me how poor my skills were in seaming knitted items and caused me to move to knitting food so I could improve. Apparently I have improved since I last put down this sweater because I'm quite satisfied with the way these seams look. You can see I have one sleeve done, but do you see the problem with it? Yes, it has only one light blue stripes. It seems I didn't notice this the first time I made it either since the photo I took before I ripped it out had only one stripe too. (I am consistent, right or wrong!) I've been stash diving (causing me to find the Malabrigo) and think I've found enough of the light blue to add that second stripe. Tonight I'll be ripping out the ribbing, it's too long anyway, and a bit of the sleeve. I will be able to fix this problem. So at least for now, I can stave off that knitting withdrawal by finishing off Blue Boy, but there always tomorrow night.
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