I’ve been knitting on a cardigan recently, slogging my way through the boring stockinette body. Which I had to rip back and re-knit because I cast on the wrong number of stitches and I knew any attempts at fudging it would eat at me every time I wore the finished sweater. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can say about that other than how much you knit per day on the visually uninteresting section of the sweater.
I’ve reached the armpits on the body and have half a sleeve that I am already bored with.
In the meantime, I finished sewing a project bag. Elizabeth Zimmermann was right; my knitting projects deserve to live in something nicer than plastic bags.
A sock lives in it now.
(I started it back in February, and I need to finish it. I think I might use the needles to knit another sock pattern before I begin its mate. My attention span has just been shot to hell in the last month.)