Of course, you’re right when you say that I could be knitting it now but then I’d face the awkward predicament of what to take to Knitting Club (as clearly you can’t sew-up, eat cake, drink tea and talk all at the same time!). And before you shout me down with cries of “Husband’s Jumper”, this isn’t necessarily the correct answer. You see, I’m heading south on Sunday, with hours of lovely knitting time ahead of me and no, no, before you again suggest said jumper of my beloved spouse, I’m afraid that I can’t. For in the enchanted forest of delights where I’m going, not all yarns are permitted to enter and taking Husband’s Jumper is a sure-fire way of getting me fed to the trolls. Well, okay, maybe not trolls: It’s only England, for goodness sake. So you can clearly see how logic suggests that I start something new tomorrow, in the comfort of a large, stationary, well-lit environment that I can continue on the train. Ah, the logic of a knitter eager to start a new project.
But fear not! This new project does not require a new yarn purchase. You may remember a mention of a recent acquisition of new yarn only a couple of weeks ago? New and untouched yarn. A completely new project. You’re impressed at my self-restraint, aren’t you? Actually, let’s be honest: You’re worried that I’ve been body-snatched and that the real Katherine has been eaten by out-of-space monsters (trolls?) or the like (can you guess what Son’s book de jour is at the moment?!). But take heart, this is me. And yes, when I set my mind to so something, I do try to do all I can to make sure that it happens. So take heart dear Husband, your Jumper may yet be free of the needles.