The Encore skeins are going to be for the Tulip baby sweater (which I just *love*) for a certain Miss N up north in the great white that used to be Minnesota:
Meanwhile, the search is still on for late-spring sweaters for Mr E and Ms A. I have the yarn, just need the right pattern.
Now, this purchase was for the Aspen Wrap that I fell hard for while searching for a wrap pattern for a friend. It's Louisa Harding's Baby Kashmir:
I'm thinking we're now at the shameful part of my purchases. I do *not* know what possesses me to buy sock yarns. I have a pair that are going on three years that I've been "knitting on." And the *really* shameful part? I DON'T KNIT FULL SIZE SOCKS! Because I don't like things on my lower legs (don't go there), I knit ankle socks. Here, remember? I have 14 skeins sitting in my studio, that are going nowhere in a hurry:
And then I go and buy this yarn! Obviously, I'm the target audience of people in marketing who sit around in meetings saying, "Yes, it's the same damn yarn we sell over and over again. How can we repackage it to make it seem like new, magical yarn that practically knits itself? And sell it to people who take a decade to knit a pair of socks to begin with? How do we get *their* money?"
Enter this...then enter me and my smoking debit card:
My theory is that since it's a German company, it's my German heritage that made me buy it. Never you mind about the American, Japanese, Canadian, English, and Uruguian sock yarns in my stash. My story, that's what I'm sticking with this time.
Yes, fine, I admit it. It'll probably be a pain in the ass to actually use. And it will still take me a decade to produce a pair of socks for myself. Shame, shame, shame. (But damn it's cool!)
Since I was in so deep anyway, when I saw the new shiny from the makers of the Knit Kit, that went in the bag.
I'm off to go find a drink now...
