Why I'll never be a fabulous knitter

1. I don't have a cat, and I never will. This is a big one. It seems they serve as knitting muses. Besides the fact that I am just not a cat person (stems from psycho cat experience when I was 5 & I think they can smell my fear), I am also allergic to them. Something about a protein or enzyme in their saliva. So unless cats stop licking themselves and quit acting possessed, this will remain the number one stumbling block to my illustrious knitting career.

2. I'm allergic to wool. I tried to knit a pair of socks for my brother from 100% New Zealand wool and I nearly lost my left index finger. My finger looked almost as gross as my brother-in-law's foot when he got that oozy staph infection only I didn't require a wound-vac and several antibiotic prescriptions (ok and I didn't ooze, either). Also, things just don't look as beautiful when they are knit from acrylic. Why go to all that work just to have it pill up and look frumpy? This just doesn't look the same in Caron Soft as is it would in baby cashmerino.

3. My pocketbook. I've already spent most of my expendable (hah) cash on quilting fabric, notions, patterns, you name it. My husband might end up having a stroke or heart attack if I started investing heavily into exotic Cashmere, Alpaca, Silk, and Organic cotton yarns. Whoever said that knitting is cheaper than therapy was delusional - and I have a few words for them:

Ther. a. py!

4. Not enough hip accessories. Although these gorgeous stitch markers are enough to suck me back in. Knitting bling, who knew?

5. The needles tend to get in the way of our romantic moments. Once, when I was trying to get a pair of socks finished for my sister, I actually took my double points with me on a date and knit under the table during dinner. Nothing squelches romance like secretive knitting with double points. Ouch!

6. Poor concentration. If I knit straight stockinette or garter stitch there is nothing to it, but the selection of patterns there is rather limited. I love those wonderfully complicated cabled aran sweaters, but they require brain power that has long since dematerialized with birthing five children.

7. I am what you call graphically/pattern impaired. This is Greek to me. I always thought I had a gift for foreign languages, but chartspeak - is a whole different story. (And yes, if you want to make beautiful cabled or fair isle sweaters, socks, blankets, or what-have-you, you need to be fluent in this language).

8. Poor coordination. Let's see, I'm not exactly known for my grace and agility (I wasn't exactly first pick when it came to choosing-up softball teams). I have heard there is a two hand carry method for knitting fair isle sweaters that makes it, get this, easier. Wha-? This, easier? I've heard some whoppers, but being able to hold even tension in both hands, simultaneously? What are the odds, something like this?

9. I have an aversion to frogs, or anything remotely frog-like. For those of you who are new to knitting terminology, frogging is the term we use when we screw up and have to take our work and "rip-it" back to a pre-mistake row. Ribbit, ribbit, get it?

10. Knitting stashes are like Tribbles. Close the door and the yarn gets it on. Before you know it you can't keep up with all the knitting genealogy, and you are giving up precious shoe space for the yarn offspring.

11. All that counting. I can't tell you how many times I have had to count my cast on stitches before I was quite certain it was safe to proceed to the next row and still had to start over because I missed one. Dagnabbit!

12. Moths creep me out. And there is nothing like a banquet of wool to attract the little buggers. Or sometimes, not so little.

13.Lastly, I have one of these

and she is very distracting (in a good way). Until she grows up some, I'm stuck with being mediocre.

Bye, bye fabulousness.