Yarn is so PICKY!

So, last month I started designing the sock pattern for the March Sockamania KAL.  I had all of these really great ideas:  cute, bright colored Easter eggs, a nice plain background, etc. 

• I dyed up some bright colored yarn, dried it, rolled it up for a nice center-pull ball, and began knitting my idea that was in my head. 
• Only a few rows in, I decided (or rather the yarn decided) I did not like the "eggs" design I was knitting. 
• Ripped it back and re-vamped my egg design. 
• Again, ewww icky! 
• One more time
• Decided it was the color of the yarn. 
• Back to the dye pots with a new idea for the color combination.  The yellow turned out orange--not happy, but will work with the bright pink that was supposed to be pale pink. 
• More egg knitting.
• WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!! (What's wrong with this yarn!)
• Ripped it all out.
• Avoided knitting for three days while I tried to calm down and re-think the entire design idea.
• Threw the entire "Easter Egg" idea out the window and focused on just "Spring".
• Started knitting again.  
• Got to the heel and thought, "Wouldn't it be cute if I did an I-cord tie!"
• Ripping out again.
• Finally decided on the I-cord tie and found a cute lacey/flower bud looking design and finished the sock in no time.
• I still hate the yarn color!  And since when does yarn decide what to knit it into?  What was wrong with Easter Eggs? 

I Feel it Coming

I don't know what it is, but about this time of year I get a "bee in my bonnet". "What?" you say. Well if you look back through my blog every year at this time I start getting........hmmm trying to find a way to describe it..........wander lust? I start feeling like it's time to migrate. Spring is coming so it's time to start thinking about moving, building a nest in a new tree, beginning a garden on a new patch of soil.

I blame it on my mother and ancestors from that side of my family. They were a wild and nomadic bunch! I have native americans, gypsies, and pioneers in my past. The way I was raised didn't help much either. I spent the first eighteen years of my life hunting, hiking, water skiing, motorcyle riding (dirt bikes on trails), scuba diving, rock hunting, camping, snow skiing, etc, etc, etc. Even when we did come home (? to the house that wasn't attached to the boat or truck, or wasn't the tent) I didn't spend much time in it. We always lived out away from the population. So I spent my time outside hiking in my back yard, building indian dwellings, cooking over the fire, etc. (side note here: One of my indian dwellings was "discovered" by park rangers and now features a lovely sign that tells all about the anasazi people that built it. LOL!)

In addition to all of the outdoor sporting stuff, my mother also liked to move around a lot! About every six months or so she would convince my dad that she needed new surroundings. We wouldn't necessarily move to a new town--though we did that a few times also--but just to a different house. (I lived in seven different houses in a town who's population was only 1,300 people.) The years that we didn't move she would completely rearrange, repaint, and/or remodel the house we were living in.

Anyway, so every year as soon as New Years is over I start feeling like a little animal ready to come out of hibernation. It really is awful. It's like cabin fever, but more intense. I remember sitting in school in April watching the breeze blow the new leaves around on the trees thinking, "If I have to sit in here one more minute I am going to have a melt-down." I had and still have a terrible time being inside, especially if the sun is shining!

So, here I am today; standing in the lobby of the motel, looking out these huge windows that give a 180 degree view of outside, the sun is shining, and I am feeling the stirrings of a restless spirit.