Late this Year

I've been most inconstant in my knitting lately. Flitty, one might say. I've done a little bit here on this, a few rows on that. Based on the comments on the Cascade Rainier Heather, lovely as it is, there's no way I can justify knitting Marco's blue sweater with it, so I've dead-ended there.

There's a bit of progress on the cardigan (that would be the "this").

Not much, though.

I started a second barn-raising quilt square (which would be the "that").

I'm not impressed.

I think I know why I've been so distractible, though. I started to figure it out when I saw my first robin last week. I really needed to be done with Winter, or for Winter to be done with me. I am fevered for Spring. The crocuses are only now budding and blooming, but finally, April has "come like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers."

I needed my knitting to know that.

Now it does.

*Spring. Edna St. Vincent Millay. (Which is really a very sad poem, but I love that image anyway.)