Guilty Pleasure

I was a child prodigy, and my parents expected nothing less. I was taught to always try the most difficult problems that I could comprehend, and was expected to always get the Right Answer.

So I suppose it's not surprising that I've internalized that expectation. Why make an omelette when a souffle will do? Why use cascade 220 when I could spin and dye my own yarn? Why start with a simple one-color tam when I could try an intricate colorwork instead?

I find myself feeling quite guilty over the simpler pleasures I periodically indulge. ...like putting down Kirkegaard to read Harry Potter. ...or knitting this fabulous 2-ball Noro Silk Garden scarf.


Finished size (blocked) : 6" x 74"

A project completed in a weekend! It's exhilarating! ...yet I'm somewhat embarrassed by it, like getting caught singing in the shower, or playing with coloring books. It seems a little immature; something I've grown out of and shouldn't be indulging in. (Not when I could be tackling a fanciful intarsia instead, after all... or teaching myself nalbindung...)