Relocation and intermission

I’m not knitting lately, at all, because I moved crosstown, to my own apartment. I hired movers for the heavy stuff and the furniture and the things I needed to set up a house right away, and the odds and ends are at the old place, piled onto the balcony and mashed into the closet, with all the yarn at the back. I have no idea where my knitting needle sets are.

But, knowing how my hands and brain start to itch when I don’t make anything for a few days, when I made a mad lunge back to the old place to pick up mail, I grabbed an overflow stash organizer (god, I’m becoming that kind of stash freak) (Becoming?) (Shut up). The freestanding cabinet that the birdcage sits on still holds my collection of vintage red, yellow and green Boye straights. I loaded a couple patterns on my iPad that I guessed would suit the yarn and needles I’d have at hand, and I’ve promised myself that once I unpack a few more boxes tonight, I can sit in my easy chair and listen to the radio and knit for the first time in a couple of weeks.

And since I have two and a half rooms and two and a half closets all to myself, the little shallow half-height closet is going to be just for yarn.