I Can Quit Any Time I Want

So, sure, my arms hurt.  And sure, the only cure for that is to rest them from the activity that caused the hurt.  I get it.  Time to take a break from knitting.  Much.  It's not like a have a problem or anything...

I was spinning, as you know.  Spinning and spinning, and making lots of nice Caora Dubh singles, chipping away at the pile of washed locks I promised myself I would get done before the end of May.  Here is some of that work, which you have to take my word as being recent, since this bobbin looks just exactly like all the others that came before it.  

And then I realized that my dear friend and college roommate Jill is having her 40th birthday party this Saturday.  This is the Jill who starved and shivered with me in New York City.  The Jill who held my hand on my wedding day.  The Jill who woke my babies up just so she could play with them before she had her own.  There is no way her birthday could go past me unacknowledged by knitwear.  So I fell off the wagon a little:

I'm a little bit smug about this one, because while Jill has a wool allergy (Poor Jill. That's like having a Banana Split allergy.  Why bother even getting out of bed?), I still wanted to knit her something, and the stash yielded one perfect skein of Comfy Sport , which is the perfect Jill Color (Honey Dew), and the perfect Jill softness, and the perfect Jill non-wool.  Clearly the Universe wants me to knit.  Get a load of that sheen, will ya?

And I was enjoying the lace so much that I realized I would really be letting down the Shawl-Along if I didn't spend a little time with Lindsay's beautiful triangle.  Which I am now finally beginning to get the hang of and wish to high heaven that I had put beads on, like Maria did.  See, even though I wasn't technically supposed to be knitting, it's okay because I switched gauges by changing to a different project, which we all know is a very healthy thing to do.  Heck, that was probably better for me than not knitting.

And then at Campbell's soccer game, it was so cold that I had to pull this out of my bag just to cover my face with it.  I may have accidentally knit on it as well - I was distracted by my shivering and it's possible that I forgot I wasn't supposed to be knitting.  

So while it is true that in the strictest sense, I didn't achieve my goal of not knitting this week, I think I still have everything under control.  I mean, it's not like I made an afghan, for pity's sake.  You don't see any Bohus around here, for crying out loud.  And although Phillip and the Smallies have been smirking a lot, they couldn't possibly understand:

Think how much knitting I'd have done if I hadn't been trying not to.