The problem with this pregnancy lark is the unexpected side effect that I've completely lost the desire to knit. Seriously. I never imagined that could happen. But then, I am so very tired I can barely lift my fingers to type. (Getting to the post office this morning was an act of superhuman heroics, I tell you.) I went to Camp Bestival this weekend, and while it was utterly lovely, I do feel sorry for my poor Armin - a pregnant woman is not the best festival company. No drinking, no energy to dance... I wandered around in a semi-stupor going "ooh look, some lovely grass, let's sit down" and "bring brownie!" at regular intervals. I slept throughout both train journeys, there and back (think of all the lost knitting time!), and most of yesterday too (to recover after my very exhausting travels, natch). I popped into the famed knitting tent, to say hi to Gerard; it looked fabulous and they were totally swamped with knitters - I hear Kate Nash joined them! - but I was too tired to join in.
This is ludicrous. I've never in my life been too tired to knit. I wouldn't have believed anyone who said it could happen. But here I am, useless. Useless I say! How is this baby going to be clothed? What will happen to my languishing WIPs? To say nothing of the Winter Wonderland coat I so wanted to make for this winter. Alack! Alas! Useless!
