Clumsy Knitter says I make her day.
In making her day, she has made mine! And here I thought no one was reading...and I wouldn't blame them, given the sporadic and photo-free nature of this site lately.
Amazing how knowing someone is out there strengthens resolve to write...
Thank you my dear! I'm going to have to think a while on who to pass this honor on to...and yes, as an English teacher, I am allowed to end a sentence with apreposition.
I blinked and my maternity leave was over. I blinked and it was Thanksgiving. I blinked and my baby boy was turning five. I blinked and it's Valentine's Day.
Clearly my blinking is causing some sort of warp in the space-time continuum. If I end up on the battle bridge of the Enterprise D I'll make sure to ask Jean-Luc to play poker.
I have been a busy knitting bee, though. One pair of clogs for M, still drying after being felted on Monday night. (Our laundry room is really cold. I should probably bring them upstairs before they a) mildew or b) freeze or c) both. Ew.) A baby hat for our friends' new sweetie, Miss Josephine. A pair of fingerless mitts, adapted from the ill-fated socks I started the day M and I spent in the hospital.
(He is fine, by the way. He had pericarditis, an infection in the lining around his heart, which sounds scary, and can be dangerous, but in his case just required a few days of rest and a few weeks of taking it easy. He seems to be on the mend, now.)
I realized after 3 inches of slipstitch ribbing on the size 1 needles that the Magic Stripes really should have been knitted with at least size 2s. The ribbing was much too stiff to make a comfortable sock. So I checked around ravelry for a pattern for fingerless mitts and kept going, switching to the size 2s for the hand and finger ribbing. We'll see how they turn out--I fear I put the thumb too high, suitable only for the freakishly huge-handed. We'll see.
Next up: I am working on the design for a top-down raglan for M in Cascade 220 with a celtic cable. I am attempting to chart the cable myself based on the design of our wedding rings. (Thank goodness our library has Aran Knitting.) He wants a very simple design, so it's going to be brown with blue accents at neck, cuffs, and hem, and the cable is going to run down one arm only. Minimalistic.
And we found out we're getting a hefty tax refund, probably due to my not working last year, and last weekend we went computer shopping...dare we enter the 21st century?
Lene wrote this in her January 6th post:
"And sometimes, just sometimes, the knitting might be a barrier between the world and me, and then the question is: do I dare to enter the world without my knitting?"
I've been thinking about my own motivations for knitting.
I've always been sort of an introvert. Socially normal, but happiest alone or with one, maybe two special friends. My family is pretty quiet, not boisterous at all, and as a child and adolescent I was always happiest in my room with a book, or sewing on my little Singer featherweight in the basement, or out for a bike ride, alone with my own thoughts. For a few years I basically refused to participate in family stuff like horseback rides or watching movies. I just wanted to be alone.
Books provided a protective barrier in social situations, too. Even in the middle of my big extended family or on a rollicking school bus, I could retreat and be quiet, peaceful, in my own head.
I like knitting for the way it keeps my hands busy, but I've realized rather uncomfortably that even though I still FEEL engaged, knitting affects the investment others perceive from me. My reactions are delayed...I miss touchdowns and plot points and the expressions on faces or in hands when my eyes are buried in what's on my needles.
I need the decompression time that knitting provides, because my job is socially and physically exhausting. But I need the reconnection time with loved ones, too.
I spent Monday in the hospital with my husband. he'd been having chest pains for a few days and they had him in for testing and observation. When it became clear on Monday morning that the symptoms had worsened and I'd be spending the day in one of those infamous hospital hurry-up-and-wait situations, I grabbed a ball of sock yarn and needles on the way out the door. I used the knitting to calm my anxiety...but in doing so, did I shut him out?
Each year when I teach my students to write research papers, I talk about plagiarism. There are several types of plagiarism of course--out-and-out stealing...cherry-picking ideas, sentences, or paragraphs...incorrectly citing someone else's ideas, or the most difficult to identify and deal with, unintentional incorporation of something you've read into your own work. Tenth graders, of course, have a hard time finessing a research paper. They often unintentionally plagiarize simply because they are inexperienced writers and they simply don't understand how to paraphrase well --once they read something, they can't think of how else to state it!
Imagine my embarrassment when I was reading Knitty the other week and realized that I have been unintentionally plagiarizing the "in which" beginnings to the articles.
Clearly, this wasn't Amy Singer's idea either, as anyone who's read Winnie the Pooh or 19th century British literature knows. But still. In good conscience, I must desist.
On the knitting front: I finished my Stefanie Japel vest from Fitted Knits (woohoo) and wore it today to school. Ended up dancing a traditional Zimbabwean dance in front of the student body in it, so it stands up well to flopsweat. Go Cascade 220!
I was just reading this post from Posie Gets Cozy (is it weird that I want to move to Portland and beherbestfriend?) and laughing about men. Because men think they're so easy to buy for and they are so hard to buy for and it is almost Christmas and I have Not. One. Idea what to purchase for my everloving spouse.
That said, I am loving the slipperclogs I'm making for my parents. I know I'm late to the clog party (8 million pairs showcased on ravelry can't be wrong) but I'm amazed at how quickly they are working up. I started on Thursday night and, four days later, already have one (blue and green, mens M) done for Dad and one (red and brown, womens M) done for Mom. Since they won't be here until the 26th or 27th, I think this technically means that I am ahead in exactly one thing in my life. And, this week, I'll take it.
Deets: The ubiquitous Fibertrends clog pattern, size 13 Addi Turbo needle (ouch, that added to the bottom line of this gift), Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride Bulky, colors Blue Flannel and Christmas Green for Dad, Red Hot Passion and Sable for Mom. Mr. D helped me pick the colors--he's such a champ. The pattern calls for double-stranding worsted weight, but my yarn store lady (Dee Dee at Apple Yarns, love her!) recommended the bulky. More Cost Effective. Half The Balls To Fuss With. Sign Me Up.
Gee, Santa, will you bring me a new computer so I can save some photos for the blog, please? And, while you're at it, bring a spare gift for M because I'm fresh out of romantic yet practical ideas.
Dear Santa,
I guess it's a bit late to be sending off my wish list, but, as you know, in my struggle to be a "good girl" this year I seem to be lacking one important commodity: time. Is it too late to write to you?
No? Thanks so much. Have I mentioned you seem to have lost a few pounds?
Anyway, Santa, what I really want this year is an extra 3 or 4 hours in the day. Or maybe just a bank of hours to use in a discretionary fashion. You decide. OK?
What will I do with these hours?
Well, I hadn't really thought in depth about how 'd spend them. And, Santa, to be perfectly honest, I'd like to say I'd use them for all sorts of responsible things like bill paying, bathroom cleaning, and flowerbed weeding. But you know me too well to believe that.
Mostly I think I'd use them for knitting, reading, playing with the kids, and hanging out with my husband. On days before posting grades I'd probably use them for emergency essay-reading time; on days before we have company there'd probably be some crazy housecleaning action.
Yes, I know that the list I e-mailed to my family was full of knitting books and DVDs. The problem is, Santa, that I don't have TIME for the DVDs or the knitting books without the hours. And you're the only supernatural person I know.
No you're right, God and Jesus count, too. And Christmas is still part of their jurisdiction, I know.
But somehow I suspect that Jesus would ask me to look at the mote in my own eye, first, before requesting a special beam from him. Jesus would probably say, Dana, my beloved daughter, those minutes that you spend on e-mail or Blogger or the New York Times--those are the minutes that you could use for this stuff that you say is your priority. And for every hour you lie awake discontented about your life, you could spend an hour getting your life in order. And for every hour you procrastinate on grading, my dear one, you could be grading for an hour and going home with a clear conscience. And every second that you walk past that mess could be a second you use to stop and clean it up.
I agree, Santa, I think Jesus gives great advice. It's just that it's a little harder to hear than a jolly Ho-Ho-Ho-here-you-go!, you know?
This is the problem with grown-up letters to you, Saint Nick...the things you bring don't scratch my itches any more. It seems like what will really help me this Christmas is to give myself a few gifts. And that's a lot more work than unwrapping a box.
But if you could tuck season 5 of Buffy into your big red bag--that'd be awesome.
Love,
Dana
