Some of it, I think, is having my hands back has finally sunk in. Part of it was not bringing any of my knitting with me on my vacation. But a big chunk of it has been having an ocean view again and realizing that I *really* want to make my "woods to horizon shawl" from the heavier weight lace weight Shetland style yarns I'd bought when we were in the Orkneys. There's a brown (for the land), a tan (for the sand), a white (for the surf), a blue-green grey (for the shallows, from the seaweed eating Orkney sheep), and a black for the deep waters, and I've always wanted to do oak leaf and spiderwebs and a border of leaf and acorns for the land, simple fan and feather for the sand, crest of the wave for the surf, offset waves for the shallows, and something rockier for the deeps with a border of shells for the dark edge of it... I'll have to write up a pattern when I'm done.
It got pushed when someone saw one of my lace shawls and said, "That's not craft, that's art..."
Plus, the radiology department called me to say that they want to take more mammograms, with the radiologist present. Which means nothing in particular, but with three friends in or just out of chemo and an old friend dead of cancer, there's that soft voice of mortality whispering in my ear. Pain is nothing compared to not *really* creating what I was given the strength and skill and love to do.
So don't be too surprised if I explode in a few directions soon.