Shocked and Appalled
I am Shocked and Appalled at the number of Faithful Readers who have urged me, both in public commentary and in private emails, to abandon my diligent progress on the "Queen Anne's Lace" pullover (see yesterday's entry for a picture; I'd post a new one, but I can hear the vacuum running upstairs and I hate to interrupt Sam when he's on a roll), and take up, instead, a bit of Mindless Fluff done in the red Trendsetter "Dune" mentioned in yesterday's entry as a flashily lovely yarn I could be working on rather than the subtle loveliness of the subtle "Queen Anne's Lace" pullover. Yes, shocked, I tell you. And appalled, as I mentioned. No, really. Stop that. I mean it.
(Let me note here in passing that I notice that the ONLY readers who did not urge me to throw over the Fair Isle for a Mindless Bit O'Fluff were two graduate students working through Ph.D. exams. I don't think I'll even comment on this. I think I'll just mention it and move on.)
Now, ALL y'all listen up. True support for your fellow knitter does not consist of saying, in effect, "yes, sister, drop the difficult and subtle pullover you've diligently trying to finish before you DIE and leave the unfinished project to languish in some bag making everybody else feel guilty, cause if they only took up knitting they could finish it and also all the other stuff you left undone."
No, true support consists of saying things like, "You keep at it! One row at a time! Let's see...if you're managing 5 rows a night, and the body of the sweater takes a little over two repeats of a 44 row pattern, then that's...well, ok, counting the sleeves...ok! Only about 4 months! You go, girl!"
Ok. Well, true support might not actually consist of working out how fast I'm going per row, as that's sorta depressing. I may well need a bit of denial to get through this.
I like the sweater, that's my problem. I'm just not jazzed. If I find myself in the middle of a project I truly dislike, I stop. But I don't actually dislike this project. I am just not really excited by it.
You know how when you're working a Fair Isle, one of the great joys is watching the pattern emerge out of the fabric, row by row, the colors working themselves on out into marvelous bits of joy? Well, that's not happening. What I'm doing is plugging along. Darn.
Oooh, wait a minute; the vacuum stopped. Let's go see if Sam feels like working the digital camera.
Yep:
Next row, I get to start on the Queen Anne's Lace Flowers Themselves!
Sam's not helping, here. I showed him the Trendsetter "Dune." "Wow," he said. "That's pretty just by itself!"
Yes. Yes, it is.
Now, I suppose one thing I could do is START the Mindless Bit O'Fluff, and then use it for BREAKS. Carefully monitored breaks.
Oh, forget this. Let's discuss something else, such as the fact that it's the day to celebrate Harriet Tubman. Since we don't know her birthday, we commemorate her death day, and this year we are delighted to have on our dinner menu a dish called "Our 'Aunt Harriet's' Favorite Dish," from my treasured reprint of The Historical Cookbook of the American Negro, first published in 1958 as a fundraiser for The National Council of Negro Women, Inc.
In case you have not got a copy of this fine book to hand, I'll tell you that what you want to do is chop up some salt pork (we're using the ubiquitous Christmas ham out of the freezer) and fry it, mix up a cup of white flour with 3 cups of cornmeal, a heaping tablespoon of baking powder, a teaspoon of salt, and a bit of baking soda, add 4 eggs and enough sour milk to moisten it all, mix in the pork and the drippings, and bake it in a greased pan at 350 degrees till it's nice and brown. (Cooks! Recognize this? It's an American variation of Toad-in-the-Hole.)
Tomorrow! Let's see if I'm still working on "Queen Anne's Lace"! Who knows!
(Let me note here in passing that I notice that the ONLY readers who did not urge me to throw over the Fair Isle for a Mindless Bit O'Fluff were two graduate students working through Ph.D. exams. I don't think I'll even comment on this. I think I'll just mention it and move on.)
Now, ALL y'all listen up. True support for your fellow knitter does not consist of saying, in effect, "yes, sister, drop the difficult and subtle pullover you've diligently trying to finish before you DIE and leave the unfinished project to languish in some bag making everybody else feel guilty, cause if they only took up knitting they could finish it and also all the other stuff you left undone."
No, true support consists of saying things like, "You keep at it! One row at a time! Let's see...if you're managing 5 rows a night, and the body of the sweater takes a little over two repeats of a 44 row pattern, then that's...well, ok, counting the sleeves...ok! Only about 4 months! You go, girl!"
Ok. Well, true support might not actually consist of working out how fast I'm going per row, as that's sorta depressing. I may well need a bit of denial to get through this.
I like the sweater, that's my problem. I'm just not jazzed. If I find myself in the middle of a project I truly dislike, I stop. But I don't actually dislike this project. I am just not really excited by it.
You know how when you're working a Fair Isle, one of the great joys is watching the pattern emerge out of the fabric, row by row, the colors working themselves on out into marvelous bits of joy? Well, that's not happening. What I'm doing is plugging along. Darn.
Oooh, wait a minute; the vacuum stopped. Let's go see if Sam feels like working the digital camera.
Yep:
Next row, I get to start on the Queen Anne's Lace Flowers Themselves!
Sam's not helping, here. I showed him the Trendsetter "Dune." "Wow," he said. "That's pretty just by itself!"
Yes. Yes, it is.
Now, I suppose one thing I could do is START the Mindless Bit O'Fluff, and then use it for BREAKS. Carefully monitored breaks.
Oh, forget this. Let's discuss something else, such as the fact that it's the day to celebrate Harriet Tubman. Since we don't know her birthday, we commemorate her death day, and this year we are delighted to have on our dinner menu a dish called "Our 'Aunt Harriet's' Favorite Dish," from my treasured reprint of The Historical Cookbook of the American Negro, first published in 1958 as a fundraiser for The National Council of Negro Women, Inc.
In case you have not got a copy of this fine book to hand, I'll tell you that what you want to do is chop up some salt pork (we're using the ubiquitous Christmas ham out of the freezer) and fry it, mix up a cup of white flour with 3 cups of cornmeal, a heaping tablespoon of baking powder, a teaspoon of salt, and a bit of baking soda, add 4 eggs and enough sour milk to moisten it all, mix in the pork and the drippings, and bake it in a greased pan at 350 degrees till it's nice and brown. (Cooks! Recognize this? It's an American variation of Toad-in-the-Hole.)
Tomorrow! Let's see if I'm still working on "Queen Anne's Lace"! Who knows!
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