Don’t be alarmed – that is in fact knitting that you see before you. Lace knitting in all its un-blocked glory.
So, my mojo disappeared. I don’t mean that as if there was an evening or two where I didn’t knit while watching television. I mean that my mojo took a look around, packed up it’s stuff and hit the road without leaving a forwarding address. No goodbyes, no hugs, no warning. Just gone. My yarn was lonely. My hands didn’t know what to do with themselves. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Yes, there’s sewing, which I really enjoy, but sewing is not overly portable. I can’t just throw my sewing machine in my purse and head out the door. That’s just awkward.
I tried to force my mojo to come back. I started a pair of striped Noro socks. No good. Mittens? Not happening. Hat? I think not. When the prospect of socks, socks, doesn’t even get me excited, we have a problem. I was beginning to panic. What if my mojo found better digs and had no intention of ever coming back? What would I do then? How would I tell the yarn? Mojo, you need to come home.
After a couple of weeks, I think my mojo missed me. It would show up briefly – poke it’s head in and pat some yarn, look at some patterns on ravelry and leave. Gradually my mojo and I spent a little more time together – a row here, a row there. It hasn’t been easy, but my mojo and I are making it work. We even spent sometime cruising for yarn on the internet the other day and had to put the credit card away more than once.
I think that might be a good sign.