Now that I'm back up off the floor, it's work work work on the book, and its associated book-y projects.  I wish I could show them to you, but like me, you'll have to wait till it's all done...

While I work, my focus constantly drifts off to other projects I'm not at liberty to pursue at the moment.  Here's where it goes today:

The Cormo.  Yes, I'm still thinking about it.  Not spinning it (Epic powers of self-restraint, Engage!).  Just wishing I were, and then imagining what I would knit from it, and wondering how much finished yarn there will be (I think it's a lot - the fleece is lighter than air and still weighs over 3 pounds), and thinking about all the colors I could dye it, if I were to dye it, or maybe the creamy perfection of the natural color is all I really need...

Phillip is correct:  Spinning is an absolutely great fiber art, because you only pay for a fleece once, but you get to play with it at least three different times:  Spinning, dyeing, knitting.  If you are on the fence about starting spinning, allow me to offer you this gentle shove off it:  You'll get more fiber fun for your money.  It's just being fiscally responsible!  Now go buy a wheel.

The new lace issue of Piecework is available, free when you subscribe, in which this lovely bit of flotsam is published.  It's called The Dragon Scarf.  And while I'm not usually a lace knitter, I think one day I might like to be.  The geometry of this piece really grabs me.  I like the way it's all diamond-y.  And what if it were made in some yarn with a big halo that blurred the sharp edges?  Or a slinky silk with gobs of shine?  Or a crunchy linen for summer that really holds out the sharp corners?  I'm NOT going off in search of a ball of hemp yarn to play with, just to see what happens.  I'm Not.

My friend Sivia is a gifted artist, in the same way that Lance Armstrong is sort of good with a bicycle.  Her brain is absolutely huge, and she's just full of surprises.  Here's a necklace she made.  Another friend of mine brought one like it to knit night a couple of weeks back.  Blew my mind, and now I can't quit thinking about it.  You can get the kit in various colors, and I'm dying to make one to wear to my brother in-law's wedding.  Which is Saturday after next.  As. If.  It's not reasonable at all, unless I stopped all profitable activity.  To the voices in my head: "Shut it.  Book writing = Groceries."

And in case all of the above weren't distraction enough, I still keep thinking about looms.  Stoopid weaving.  Why won't it leave me alone, anyway?  What did I ever do to looms that they will not now get outta my head?  Don't know, but there they still are.  Really?  Just how many ways do I need to be able to play with string, anyway?  I know: How many are there?

So what's on your minds, Gentle Readers?  What's got you distracted?  Weigh in, won't you, so I know I'm not alone in the wistful soup of Project Lust...?