Dry Spell

I have been in a broad, dark, Woody Allen desert of knitting inspiration (or lack of) lately. Maybe it’s the summer doldrums or dog days or a funk of “ginormous” (Cass's word) proportions. You know that feeling you had in middle school when the teacher assigned an essay and you couldn’t think of anything to write about? I haven’t anything to knit about. Knitter’s block, and I don’t mean the good kind.

I’ve been trying, really I have. I took a long car trip – usually a guarantee of miles of pleasant knitting -- but I was driving. Have you seen the bumper sticker? Save a life – don’t knit and drive. I have to admit; over straight, flat Ohio the idea did flit across my mind for a mile or two. Don’t look at me that way – I would have used the cruise control…

I have been reading knitter’s blogs by the megabyte, vicariously visiting Meg Swansen’s Knitting Camp with Franklin and Oklahoma with the Yarn Harlot. You may have noticed my own blog is sadly short on knitting inspiration these days. I've tried to distract you with cute dog photos. Did it work?


I took a “field trip” to The Mannings in East Berlin, Pennsylvania, just a bit north of Gettysburg. The first thing I noticed was the comforting “wooly” smell. The ladies there said they hadn’t noticed it, but trust me, it is there. How could it not be? The place is jam-packed with wooly goodies. It’s a barnfull of every book I could imagine, more independent patterns than I’ve ever seen in one place, and miles of yarn with which to knit those patterns. It’s hard not to be at least a little inspired, but everything I start dribbles off into a vague tangle of whatever, and my needles have turned into big, boring stitch holders.

I’m in desperate need of some fresh mojo. What do you do when your knitting muse runs away on summer vacation and leaves you “stranded?”

I'm not the only one in the middle of a drought. Check this out:



Remember how a month ago I said the old bridge piers were covered with water after our 12" rain? Not anymore. A month ago Bull Run may have been flooding; today it's lower than I've ever seen it. Isn't Nature a hoot?