Really, I’m not dead.
I am indeed still among the living-and-breathing. However, I’m moving, which is just about as bloggable as being dead- hell, at least someone could get a good “Oh Tala, how we miss her mad geekery” post out of my being dead. Alas, alack and achoo: as of this moment, moving has supplied only pictures of boxes, tales of boxes, and nothing more. I was actually going to start this entry with a picture of a box, but figured what audience I have might apperciate the stereotypical spring snapshot instead.
Once I’ve moved, however, prepare for a deluge. Not only does the new condo have actual gardening space (!!!), it is bright freaking purple. No, really: it’s purple like a Gram (+) bacterium. I think I shall call it Crystal Violet. Did I just type that? Yes, I did. Every day my inconsolable geekiness is further and further confirmed. But you’re not here to watch my ever-devolving dorkness (or are you?)! You’re here for the making-of-stuff.
With my Strawberry Hat off the needles and firmly wedged upon my head (and, as requested, a pattern in the works as soon as I can figure out where I packed my knitting notes- I think I may try posting it directly to KnitWiki), I had room for another project without violating my two-projects-at-a-time law. Behold, swatching (and a tiny bit of unremarkable 1×1 ribbing):
I never knew a tiny little swatch could make me so extraordinarily happy. I think it’s beautiful, and I’m proud enough of it to have carried it in my wallet for a day and whipped it out to show all my bewildered non-knitting friends. It is, as some of you may have immediately recognized, the beginnings of Eunny Jang’s Endpaper Mitts. If you do not know Eunny, where the hell have you been? She’s hands down and no holds barred my favorite modern knitwear designer, and I have a host of her projects stashed and waiting to be knit.
As far as the mitts go, I’ve never knit something with such fine yarn and on such small needles before, and I love it. The delicate texture and the fine fair isle (which makes me look like I know what I’m doing, but which is actually intuitively easy, what with there being no floats longer than three tiny stitches) positively thrills me. Yes, thrills. I have a very visceral reaction to the act of creation sometimes. It’s a kind of satisfaction I don’t often get from student life and work/business, which both take lots of effort and return very little tangible output (unless printing up an unofficial transcript each semester so I can hold my work in my sweaty little hands counts).
And where is Calla in all this mess of boxes and fair-isling? That’s actually a very good question.
She is still in her shamefully rudimentary stages, largely because I lost her for a week and only rediscovered her recently. I suspect there are numerous mistakes in the first few rows, but am still amateur enough not to recognize them (only to suspect them) and seem to be getting the hang of it now, so I’m soldiering on. If I finish it and it’s horrible, I will figure out what to do then. There’s all sorts of magical fixes out there in the wide world of knitting.
As a final comment, I leave you with a link of inspiration: if I could make cakes like this, all my baking-dreams would be fulfilled. Damn!