When I went down to the communist garden plot this past week I was surprised to see the local population had expanded.
My first reaction was, "Oh, look at the goslings! They're so cute!" I mean, how could anyone not like these sweet little yellow fluff balls?
But then I remembered something. Those little fluff balls will, in a matter of months, turn into full grown Canadian geese. And that's a problem. You see, these geese were introduced to the area around our cottage a number of years ago when Stanley Park was being overrun by the birds. Their solution was to relocate them to where we live. When will the Powers That Be figure out it almost never works to introduce animals into a new area?
These geese are aggressive, and if it wasn't for the two swans that have been brought in to discourage geese from nesting at the pond there would be more than we already have. How aggressive are these geese? Well, I call this Mother Goose the bridge troll. She built her nest right by the little wooden bridge and attacks anyone who passes by. Last week a male goose attacked one of the garden club members - it flew straight into her head!
So now we have a goose problem, and, no surprise here, Stanley Park is still overrun as well. Oh, and those swans that were introduced to scare away the geese? They are even more vicious, and the community has had to add on liability insurance to cover any lawsuits that could result from someone being attacked by one of them. There wasn't such a thing as an aggressive swan rider, so they have been listed as vicious dogs. Slow learners, all the way around.
I've had my own run-in with a bout of slow learneritis. (Auto-correct wants to fix that word, but I'm not going to. If it doesn't already exist I think it should.) Last week I took out all the knitting projects I have on the go and lined them up on the window seat. This was followed by a feeling not unlike one gets about twenty minutes after ingesting a huge amount of sugar. I felt awful. How did I let things get so out of hand? I phoned a friend and her advice was to quickly put some of the projects back in their hiding places. I did put away one project, but left the others there to guilt me into action.
I took stock and decided things had gone off track when I started knitting patterned socks for my regular sock knitting. I know better. I have run into this problem before. I always have a pair of socks on the go. They are my easy, relaxing knitting, and I usually just knit plain old socks. (By plain, I mean the pattern is basic, not the yarn itself.)
For some reason last fall I had started a pair of Hermoine's Everyday Socks instead of sticking to my regular routine. I got as far as one sock being completed and the ribbing on the second finished before they got set aside. Then, because I really am a slow learner, for my March Self-Imposed Sock of the Month Club instalment I decided to knit some Jaywalkers. Again, I stalled after one sock.
So for the past two weeks I have gritted my teeth, stayed completely away from the other things I have on the needles, and made myself finish these two projects. I'm happy to say that the Hermoine socks are finished.
And before the end of today the Jaywalkers should be done as well.
From now on if I do socks that involve any kind of thinking they are going to be put in my other category of knitting and not be counted as sock knitting. For me knitting socks is sort of like a beach read, and nobody in their right mind would take War and Peace to the beach. And how crazy is it to feel depressed and overwhelmed by your own hobby? Am I the only person who falls into this trap? Please tell me I'm not alone!