The love of inanimate objects

I am in love with a hunk of plastic. NO, no, not that. This is my new ball winder--- YARN ball winder--- and swift.

It's nicely made, easy to use, and best of all was a Christmas present from Phil. I've been winding like mad, including winding together yarns I want to knit together, or hold double; yarns I've already wound into clumsy hand-done balls-- must. stop. winding.

That colorful litter of stuff on the table is a WIP, a Noro vest I'm calling Joseph's Coat, knit in jigsaw pieces of different colorways to join together. It's a plot to get Noro out of my system for once and for all. I love the colors. I detest the feel of the yarn. I could support a sheep on the bits of hay and grass seed I pick out of the stuff. I keep buying it because of the colors. Do you see a circular argument developing here?

Finished a turquoise mohair scarf, pix later. It is just long enough to make it around my neck, saving me from having to find another skein of it. I'm all about finishing things at the moment; the ladder scarf is two inches away from being done, and then the vest is next, and then socks. Taking a sock class next week to spur me to make more socks, because I need them and refuse to buy any until I have made at least a few pairs for myself. There's also the burgundy sweater, and the blue raglan sweater, and if it's not summer by the time they're done, a few other things lurk in the stash--- not to mention the Afghan Which We Have Always With Us. [Eventually it will be long enough that it will serve the purpose of keeping me warm even as I knit it. By next winter it even might be finished.]

If it stays this cold, I might need to crawl under the afghan anyway. 21 degrees this morning. I was whining about how we live in the South and this shouldn't be happening and Phil reminded me that we live in North Carolina. Still. The birds are eating everything I put out, we've even had snow this week-- but hey, I'm getting to wear scarves and mits and things. And cook stew and soup in the slow cooker, and last night I justified a big pan of gooey bread pudding by saying it was cold and we needed the comfort. Can't beat bread pudding for comfort.