Can’t c-c-can’t control my feet!

(For some reason, whenever I need to think of a title for anything I think of song lyrics, usually ones that don’t really apply to the situation at hand. If anything, I should be citing a band that goes by the name of my yarn color. But instead it is a weird little bit of techno that comes through every now and then.)

Now THIS, this is the kind of color that I dream about. (Incidentally, I don’t ever dream about knitting but spinning shows up now and then). Maroon. For a brief but happy time known as High School and most of College, my small wardrobe held an inordinate amount of maroon, to the point that I stopped buying maroon clothes. Now that my husband-induced clothing purge has left me with only a few articles from the mid-nineties, I find myself utterly lacking in maroon. This is a somewhat shocking discovery, to find one’s self without one’s signature color. What do I reach for when I need to feel good about myself?

Troubling, indeed.

Thus part of the motivation for picking up this Cider Moon roving in “Cherry Bomb” (the other part is that it was in my hands and I am weak). I think I’m going to make a hat. I’ll work a cable pattern that will go around the head, Kitchener it together to make a circle, and then pick up stitches and decrease for the top. I’ve done it before (maybe I can dig up the photos?) and really like the look.

I split the roving into lightish and darkish, and then made three singles: one all darkish, one alternating dark and lightish, and one all lightish. I can’t wait to see if it has subtle self-striping like I hoped it would.

Please don’t laugh right now if this is ridiculous beyond belief. It still makes sense in my head, and watching those plies plump whilst they hung in my bathtub was pleasure enough. Not that I watch yarn dry…

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