Gray pants in March? Who in their right mind would work on gray pants in March?
I have had this fabric since the beginning of time. The fact that I got it at WalMart should tell you how old this is. It's a nice, light spring gray, but gray nonetheless and I have about as much ambition to work on it as I do to, say, clean the microwave.
I would shelve it, but I really do need some decent pants that don't look heavy and wintery and, while I could push a few buttons on the internet and have, in a few days, a pair of nice lined linens, it seems a waste when I have yards upon yards of gray linen, the likes of which actually match this
(the yarn, not the cat) and could, conceivably, match these, but don't necessarily have to.
It occurred to me recently that my wardrobe is sufficient and serviceable. So I decided that any additions would be handmade* (which, in my case, means made by my 35-year-old Singer or on the knitting needles). I don't know how long I can keep up this particular resolution. I'm quite a slow worker and have the attention span of a gnat. I'm sick of the fabric/yarn long before I'm done with the garment.
*Except for underwear, which is even more boring than gray pants to make, if you can even find the supplies to do it and when you do find the real supplies, you have to buy so much you need to start running a sweat shop on the side to make underwear for the entire county in order to justify the order, not to mention the problems with I.N.S. Of course you can indulge in the truly handmade, meaning no sewing machine, which bypasses the need for special ready-to-wear elastic and the sweat shop. Please note that I'm going on and on about the underwear just to drive Mamma K nuts, who couldn't believe I wrote an entire post about new underwear, when we all know how important comfortable underwear is to the future of society.