This is Jacque.
I taught her to knit in January. She's made four hats. Hats are the way to go for a beginner, I think. She's accomplished so much in such a short time. She's going to make a vest of her own design next. Her latest hat is ribbed the entire way up, so Jacque had to figure out how to decrease in pattern, rather than using the standard spiral decrease I taught her. She's been knitting on straights and has had some trouble with her hats having nipples at the top, so I hope the ribbing and the different decrease pattern will solve her nipple problem.
In spite of this weirdness, every hat Jacque makes is a joy for her. She exclaims "I love this hat" while knitting them. She realized she said it for every hat and asked if I felt the same way about what I knit.
It's got me to thinking. I don't love everything I'm working on. Lately I feel like I've put down or frogged everything I attempt. I'm supposed to be working on a dog sweater for Jacque's dog (also in the pic), especially since it took much convincing of her husband that a dog sweater is still macho. But the yarn I picked is too bulky for the wording I want to incorporate. I thought I'd just make a prototype, then, since I wasn't using a pattern, but I haven't touched the sweater for weeks. I am working on other things, of course, but I don't love anything right now.
The closest I'm getting is on Patti. It feels good to make progress. I'm sure I won't finish until the sun is warming Michigan, but Jen will still appreciate it, I think (hope).
So I how do I get the love back? I still need to knit. I still want the feel of the yarn growing on the needles. I just don't love anything I'm working on. Nothing is bringing that joy.
Here's some Misti Hand Paint Sock Yarn I wound for Tympany. Tympany is fun. I'm almost onto the earflaps. I'm not going to have enough yarn, since I'm using some leftover yarn from a pair of socks, so I'll have to get creative.