Choosing monogamy

I find myself in the happy position currently of being able to choose a project. My curtains are almost done—another road trip should dispatch the window treatments—and the crocheted afghan sections can be my in-air entertainment.

I decided to take the barf-glob swatch as a sign and ignoring Katarina over at Ravelry—a shawl-collared lovely that can be worn three ways—I decided to return home to Little Edo. Cheryl’s yarns are splendid examples of themselves and vibrate with dimensional color, and I know I’ll wear this jacket to death. But, as you know, returning to a project after a long absence is like picking up a long-neglected read, it’s not always easy to find one’s place.

Last night while watching baseball—it turns out that yes, indeed, I am that kind of fan—I did some measuring and untangling (yarn has a funny way of finding good friends in the knitting bag that it is loathe to leave), I have a pretty good idea of where I need to head.

And my jacket is purple. Rockies purple.

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