Richard Dawkins has gotten to a complex argument about testicle size which turned out to be incompatible with my knitting, so I have switched to a novel for a little while at least. I was interested to discover, a bit earlier in The Ancestor’s Tale, that the hippo is more closely related to the whale than to the pig, which just goes to show. What it goes to show, I am not prepared to say, but apparently this idea was accepted in the 19th century, rejected in the 20th century (when I studied this stuff in school), and has recently been shown by new DNA testing to be true. Once I finish the complicated knitting and can pay proper attention to graphs of relative testis size, I will return to Dawkins.
Feebeeglee, who is still waiting around in the snow and cold for her baby to arrive, tagged me with this question:
What one knitting pattern would you like to have in your hands this very moment?
That would have to be this one from Poetry in Stitches, which I learned about at Woolywarbler‘s blog. This picture I snitched from Pink Tea, with thanks. The book is full of wonderful designs, but costs enough that I haven’t yet persuaded myself that I can buy it. I have a good variety of ways and means of finding books for less than the cover price, but none has yet worked for this book. When the encyclopedia people get around to paying me, I may splurge on it.
The modular bag for the Knitting Olympics is nearing completion. I returned to an earlier error to make 3-D petals for the top. On the headband, this error created an unattractive Statue of Liberty effect, but I like it for an edging for the bag. I will put drawstrings just below that top row, and have a useful little pouch. I have not yet decided whether to felt it. It would blur the messy transitions and give it a firmer fabric, both of which would be positive outcomes. On the other hand, I am not sure that I am willing to give up much in size. I may just felt it slightly. This is one of the nice things about felting — if you have time to fiddle around with it, you can stop and start repeatedly until you get just the effect you want.
Even though I eschewed my highly efficient plan, I still got quite a lot done for the sewalong. I completed a floral cotton gauze skirt with an elastic waistband, and got up to the zipper on a nice drapey rayon one.
The third fabric I scored at the clearance sale was a sturdy twill. It didn’t seem suited to the pattern after all, so I made some simple pants from it instead. I have with all three projects done all the easy bits.
This is the trouble. You do the pinning and cutting, enjoying the texture and color of the fabric, and then you come up to the zipper. At this point, you could easily ruin all the fine work you’ve done. I hung up the projects — ostensibly to let them settle. But really I must gather up courage for the zipper.
There are no photos because we are having camera issues chez fibermom. I put some batteries that said “heavy duty” in the camera and they appear to have committed suicide and possibly taken the camera with them. I will not know till the snow melts and I can go buy some other type of battery and try them out.
There is still snow outside. The temperatures have been in numbers like 16 which should not, in my opinion, feature in weather reports. Presumably, all the plants which were leafing out in the false spring have now died. I have not gone out in this at all, though the boys went sledding and threw snowballs. Soon, though, I will put on stout boots and walk to church.
I looked at my site meter this morning and learned that I have had visitors from places like Michigan and Manitoba, all of whom doubtless snickered at my snow. If they come back and see that I am letting this little dusting of white stuff dissuade me from driving to the store, their snow snickers (not to be confused with either the snickersnack of the vorpal blade or the snickersnee drawn by Koko) will doubtless turn into guffaws. However, they probably have snow plows. Here, we have had church closings announced.
Later: It has started snowing again, enormous snowflakes, each individually visible in the air. Will stout boots be enough to get me to church? Stout boots and down parka? How much of a wimp am I, anyway?