Gaining knitting time, and also a new job title.

Hello chaps!

I have some exciting news for you! I'm training as a projectionist at the cinema I work at. That's right, I'm responsible for 5 expensive, noisy, whirring things and one slightly quieter, but still very expensive whirring thing. In fact, I'll be responsible for all of them, all by myself, on Saturday. I'm a bit scared, it's my first shift by myself. The Senior Projectionist, James, needs to brace himself for some pathetic noises down the radio. I am excited though, I like the technical side of things, so massive machines are the way forward for me!

I'm hoping I can take my knitting in (to be held FAR AWAY from the expensive whirring things) so I can get on with the 4 (!) jumpers I need to knit. I'm currently 5 rows and a cast off away from finishing my lace shawl, and I'm currently on a yarn diet until I get some of the wool in my stash knitted up. The box I keep it all in won't shut unless there's another heavy box on top of that, so it's getting a little bit silly.

Granted, this will all be going horribly wrong come the 24th/25th of June when the lovely Jess J. and I head to Woolfest. I have a slight fear of being overwhelmed by the wool fumes and heady air of alpaca and coming away with ANOTHER jumper's worth of wool, but it's only a slight fear. Snorgling a good amount of wool is no bad thing. And if I get a swift to help me wind the damn stuff, so much the better. A ball winder would also help a lot. I do love me some artisan-y wool (Pretentious? Moi? Naturellement, mes amies!) but I will NEVER understand why they can't wind the stuff into tidy little centre-pull balls. I know for little companies it can drive the price of already pricey wool up, but for Debbie Bliss to put her Andes wool into a skein? Really? Urf, it's too footery.

I'm procrastinating wildly. My lace shawl is making me crazy, I'm thisclose to finishing it, 5 rows and no more, and I DON'T WANT TO KNIT. I'm scared of casting it off, there is a gajillionty stitches in this damn thing, and I am too tired and too wobbly to cast each and every one off.

Once more in to the squishy, merino, hand-dyed breach. Once more, dear friends.