I am deep in the big projects. I almost used the word “mired” there, but that’s not really right, because I don’t feel the least bit stuck or bored or in a hurry to be done with any of them. There is no rush at all. They are so satisfying, with their interminable plodding, the tiny increments in which they are showing progress. This scarf, in laceweight yarn on US 4 needles, has been languishing in my work basket for a really, really long time, and whenever I pick it up, I think I am never going to be finished with this, but then I start knitting and the rows add up at a rate so microscopic as to require scientific tools for measuring it, and it just feels great. I am still working on this. Still, still, still. It accompanies my life, this scarf.
This is the plainest of projects, a rectangle in stockinette stitch, to be blocked like mad at the finish, which will (hopefully) result in a something gossamer, a cloud of lace. I will knit it until the yarn runs out, and as of now, there is still a whole great big bunch of yarn left. There were moments in the past with this scarf when I felt like screaming—I noticed a dropped stitch once, somewhere about eight inches back from the needle, and there is no saving that except to rip back and fix it—and I probably did scream a little, which is fine because a little screaming here and there is right and good, but then I picked it up again and just kept going; knit, purl.
Then there is the sock yarn blanket. These squares are happening on their own, I swear. I have no idea how many there are (maybe around thirty so far?), and no idea how many I’ll need in the end. 150-ish? 200? I don’t know. I’ll figure that out at some point. Each one takes about an hour, and they are mildly interesting. Not madly; I can’t say I really die for these sock yarn squares, but they have been accumulating in spite of that. The project is proceeding apace. It all feels very slow, and that is a delightful place to be right now. There is work all around me, getting done, here and there.