For me, it was socks. I knit sock after sock. Same pattern. Different yarns. I was happy. Content, even. Then a month ago I hit the wall. After knitting over 100 socks, I realized I didn't want to knit another sock....ever. Done, done, done. Huh. The only thing you gotta wonder is, "What took me so long?"
My new thing is knitting really huge, saggy bags, then putting them in the washing machine. When you apply moisture, heat, and agitation to 100% wool, the stitches sort of melt together. Felt is created. Felting has occurred. As I've described in an earlier post, the first time I did this I walked away and by the time I returned, the bag had shrunk so small it wouldn't hold a Stephen King paperback.
But now I'm getting it. Here's my next attempt, the long pink thing with the can of corn for size comparison:
After some time in the washing machine, here's the result:
I wanted to use up the tail ends of sock yarn skeins, so I started another bag. I had it with me when I suddenly ended up spending some time in the hospital with my stepfather Jim (he's fine now---a "little" heart attack, then angiogram and stent) until my mom returned from her trip to Vienna. So I knit and knit and knit. I think it calmed both me and Jim down.
Here's the saggy bag, with little Teddy for size reference:
After the moisture, heat, and agitation? A bag! Or a felted basket...
Balance is a good idea, but I seem to hyper-focus. I can feel myself starting to obsess about felting bags, much as I slid down the "Sock" rabbit hole.
I've yet to felt the yarn from our sheep. That somehow just feels too precious to waste, so I need to feel more comfortable before I take that plunge.
But it's good to change things up now and then....so good-bye socks, Hello, felted stuff!