I managed to coax a few more pictures out of the old camera. I hope Christmas gets here soon, I need the new camera I am not supposed to know about really bad. Anyway, here's the progress on Irtfa'a:
This is the picture I got with a flash. I am past the shoulder drop section and into the small feather section. I really could not be happier, well, that's not true. If my camera would take a decent picture of it I would be much happier, but I'm happy as a clam with everything else about this project. The yarn, BMFA Laci, is soft and squishy and really altogether wonderful. I am definitely going to knit with it again. The colorway, Corvid, is as purpley-green-y-black as I could wish for, and the variegation is exactly what I would want for this project. The pattern, thankfully, is very well written and it is just complicated enough to be engaging without being so demanding as to require me to have to completely cloister myself to keep up. It's the best kind of lace that makes you feel smart knitting it. All in all, I find myself just as enchanted here in the middle as I was in the beginning, and that, my friends, is saying something.
Fidelity in knitting is definitely not one of those qualities that any self examination would bring to mind. I am beyond fickle. I tend to fall out of infatuation with a project as soon as I hit a stride, and my brain starts searching for something to bring back the rush of giddiness that casting on or sometimes just buying new yarn or patterns can produce. This was a strange thing for me to encounter in myself when I first started knitting, as in most other areas of my life I am, well, predictable and set. When I was much younger I flitted from project to project, but in my adult life I have managed to achieve that certain level of inner, um, deadness? balance? that allowed me to engage in the same activities day after day, year after year without going absolutely postal. But knitting, or maybe it's the yarn, I don't know, lit a fire under my butt, and got me in touch with my inner 4 year old who is running around wearing an indian chief headdress and brandishing a new set of fingerpaints, an easybake oven, a spin art machine and maybe a cake decorator full of extremely blue icing.
Only I'm 46 now, so add a beer to that. Or maybe two.
And there you have it. So in the middle of the attention deficit festival of projects that is my knitting, I have found a project that incites total monogamy in me. Go figure. And now, because my camera is insisting that it's not dead yet, a close up for a fair representation of the color.