By the time you read this, I will be halfway through a two-week trip. I will be doing a little hiking, a little seeing of sights, and a lot of breakfast, lunch and dinner. The theme: rest and relaxation, and laughing with two people who’ve been showing me the world since 1978.
The Knitter’s Go-Bag
Every knitter knows that the most fraught aspect of leaving home, whether it’s for two hours or two weeks, is the yarn packing.
Decisions: Which projects? How many?
Resisting the urge to print out all the patterns you own.
Where is the interchangeable needle set?
Where is the other interchangeable needle set?
These are the panicky thoughts of a knitter on the eve of departure.
Pretty much every knitter I’ve ever met has a tale to tell about travel project forecasting, and the gist is usually: I packed a ludicrously excessive amount of yarn for the amount of time I had to knit. It is nothing for a knitter to pack a couple of sweaters’ worth of yarn, plus a few smaller projects (because they probably will finish the sweaters).
This is for a three-day weekend.
For two weeks, the smart knitter will UPS the entire stash to the destination.
You never, ever, want to run out of knitting. Even if your travel destination is, oh, I don’t know, a yarn festival—you still have to pack a lot of knitting, just to get yourself to the festival.
And what if you don’t acquire a single yard of yarn at the festival, hmm? That could totally happen, right? (That has never happened to anyone I know.) Better pack a project or six for the journey home. Safety first!
This Time, Everything Will Be Different
There is a downside to overpacking knitting projects. They fill up your suitcase, to the point that you have to wear the same outfit every day and you can’t bring an extra pair of sneakers or a rain jacket.
As the trip goes on, and you are still knitting on the same project you started on the plane, the visible evidence of your earlier delusions becomes an emotional weight that you lug around in your wheely-bag and try to stuff under the seat in front of you.
This time, I aimed to do better. I would pack a relaxing and realistic amount of knitting for two weeks. Since I am head-over-literal-heels for knitting socks right now, all of my projects would be socks: the ultimate in portable knitting. I’d take these three precious sock yarns I’ve been longing to use:
Left to right: Barnyard Knits Sock/Fingering in Campfire, Make Do‘s Be, a 4-ply Fingering/Sock in Autumn (a long-ago gift from the dyer, who must have known I’d knit socks someday), and sock blank painted with natural pigments by me.
OK, plus my once-in-a-lifetime needlepoint project. I always work on that in August when I’m with this pair of companions. I don’t want to disappoint them by not giving them the chance to ask, “Isn’t that the same cushion as in 2015?” YES IT IS THE SAME CUSHION, GOSH.
So, Ann, what do you think? I’m a week in at this point. Did I run out of yarn? Is that needlepoint a cushion yet?
(Please send yarn.)