Archive for May, 2006

I am desperately trying to post before the coffee finishes perking. I don’t know how much my husband is making for me, I only know that when it is done I have to stop blogging *gasp* and start studying for the final. Tomorrow. Yeek.

Because the subject of knitting Librarians is SO exciting, I thought I’d post more about it. I promise, it will be over soon. Yesterday, I went to our conference/convention thingie all prepared to knit. Strong! Bold! Knitter! Or something like that, but I was going to be brave. Instead? I was late and I was cold. So cold that my fingers were in my armpits (not like Mary Katherine Gallagher) and they were still too stiff to knit. So cold the windows were shut and the curtains still blew. Not fluttered, blew. Ok, and I was late and had the direct-line-of-sight chair with the view of the speaker, and I was a chicken. I went home and got a jacket.

Here’s the knitting action: I came back for the afternoon session (on blogging and wikis, no less), grabbed a chair in the back, and dragged out the sock. Really, at this point, it was about six rows of k1p1 ribbing, and not resembling a sock at all. One of my classmates from library school (oooo, he’s a cutie, too) sat in front of me and chatted for a bit, finally asking what I was knitting. I think he thought it (not me) was cute. I let him know that what was really happening on the back row in class every week was exactly this. He was shocked. Serves him right for being an uninformed minority. While trying not to roll my eyes, I see this woman…who looks familiar. She eyes the sock (in a good way), puts down her stuff and comes over. I say (I’m not bright, you know) “I know you!” (That had to come out creepy, I know). Turns out, it was a fellow knit blogger, Sarah. And, as it turns out, she had been at the WEBS event and I remembered seeing (read: drooling over) her cardi. This, folks, is why we (ok, me) should never be afraid to knit in public.

Today, I had no balls. My first morning session was boring and empty (it was on cataloging) and I felt embarrassed. The second session was packed. Packed in an I think I still have the corduroy from the guy next to me’s pants still imprinted on my thigh. Ewwww. At lunch, though we had a guest speaker, the guy who draws this and I got to sit at my back corner table and knit. He described the comic (about a library if you don’t want to follow the link) and various characters. He mentions a new one, a cataloger, who…knits. Imagine how funny my table mates thought that was. I’m a Librarian now (capital L), and we’ll just pretend I’m not still a cataloger, too, ok?

How about some pics?

Here’s the sock after 2.5 conference sessions. Looks like a stripe each, hmm? Not shabby. The book (signed) is for a librarian friend that completely takes care of everyone, including me. She loves Unshelved, and deserved a gift.

I haven’t really been finishing those things I promised I would. Mostly because I can’t stand to look at them. I’ve poked around a bit on this:

After making my crochet horror and three knit face cloths for my mother, my DH (which is what he calls himself now) wondered why HE didn’t get one, too. So, here it is.

What I have been trying to do is spin the last ounce of the roving I got, so I can ply it with the first oz.

The problem is that the spindle is too heavy now, and won’t take the last 12 or so inches of roving I have left. Now, I know I’ve spun this bit a LOT thinner than before, so I will already have more than enough length to ply. Its just that I hate to waste it. Maybe card it (later, when I have cards) with something else?

What I should be doing is practicing dyeing this:

This was supposed to be a pic of 8 one oz. skeinlets of Cascade Eco Wool, but Olive had other plans. Why is this surprising to me? I hung them on the chair to photograph them, and between turning the camera on and clicking the button she jumped up, whacked the skeinlets around a bit and jumped down, leaving just her butt behind. That’s my girl, leading with her rear end.

For the record, this is NOT the yarn I will be using for my Dye-O-Rama swap, but is instead my practice palette. Why did I need to drop 15 bucks on practice yarn when I have a KnitPicks order in? Because I ordered it TWO weeks ago and its still not here. Me worried? Noooooo. Be warned that I have a meme to do for them, most likely tomorrow.

Finally, to answer Sarah:

I keep it on a shelf next to my knitting spot, and gaze lovingly on it, color 143. It looks like it is the supermerino.


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Thanks to all that offered sage sock advice. I think I’m still recovering from the amazing load o’ information on gusset holes, but some information has sunk in, and I hope to put it to good use in the amazingly near future. Until today, I really only thought that a sock morons like me made ’em and all you clever people out there had figured out some trick that I was just not bright enough to see. This may seem silly to you, but I’ll have you know that it was quite the revelation when I was told that when you M1 you’re supposed to knit through the back of the loop. It was not unlikely that this would be the case with gussets. At the very least, I am not the only one with this sock problem, and am not alone in my confusion. This goes a long way in self-esteem land, I assure you.

Tomorrow is a Library conference, and it seems it is the perfect place to work on said sock. There’s been some buzz about knitting in conferences, but as my Director has said she doesn’t mind…well, I can make the call. I recently knit at a large training session (with her prior approval). It was amazingly boring, dark, and too warm, and I watched many people doze off. I sat in the back row, my sock under a table, and knit (and repeatedly frogged) the gussest of the bumblebee sock all day. I would put down the sock and take notes on the rare occasion I needed to. I hope it was less annoying for the speaker to see my wee wooden needles rather than me dozing in the aisles. I expect most of the sessions tomorrow to be much the same as the training, except with more light.

Its just that I’ve had lots of gender/identity stuff in my head the last few days. Some of it had to do with this post, while other bits have to do with the whole Librarian stereotype. What kind do I want to be? Frumpy? In denim dresses with kitties embroidered on them? Sexy, hot librarian? But one who knits? Ohhh, my. Not sure what that stereotype says.

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This week’s knitting has been a bit thin. I hate finishing projects. I’d (almost) rather not knit than work on something I hate.

Take for example the albatross of an afghan for my dad. I decided I can’t cast on a new thing until I finish it, my Olympic sweater, and those baby pants I’m sure the kid has outgrown. Remember Olive?

(Here laying on top of Blu that I am trying to photograph)

The other night I grabbed a beer and decided to work on the flippin’ afghan. It was a good compromise, and I actually can see the end nearing. I didn’t quite complete either, and (here’s the problem) and left the bottle on the edge of the futon. Overnight. Guess what I found when I woke up? A beer-soaked non-washable afghan courtesy of Olive the cat.

Here’s another Olive shot, in case there’s someone out there that doesn’t think she’ll give me a heart attack one day:

Don’t ask how she got on the roof, and why she’d get up there only to be too freaked out to come down.

Here’s the real knitting problem, and the point of my post today:

See where the leaf is pointing? I can’t keep holes from forming on the gussets of socks. I’ve tried picking up oodles of stitches on the flap, and picking up just a few. I’ve tried twisting the stiches on these anklets:

but I still have a big ol’ hole. Any suggestions?? I don’t want to make the other bumblebee sock with a hole, too.

In an unrelated note, I’m gearing up for Dye-o-Rama. My secret pal has been super-nice, and I’m trying to learn from her how to be good to my swappee. And then, look what I found in the garden:

Dye practice to come this afternoon!

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(This is going to start off non-knitting related, but it will get there, I think)

Early this week I was caught in a whirlwind of job stuff. Normally, I sit at my desk in the back office and do one of the most boring library jobs ever: copy cataloging. (I can’t find a description on the web that won’t make you want to stick your head in the oven. It means that mostly I download existing card catalog records and don’t often create them from scratch. Not exciting stuff, I tell you.) To keep myself from wandering into traffic, I read (a lot of) blogs and occasionally post to my own. Generally speaking, I am left alone with my mountains of books and nobody pays attention to me. It was a good, if boring, life.

This week, though, I was being trained to be a Librarian. Normally, I wouldn’t be allowed to be a librarian until I finish my MLS (in progress), but I got promoted due to a strange convergence of convenience. Basically: I was there, I’m cheap to hire since I’m still in school, and I’m already mostly trained from substituting out there. Yes, yes they were scraping the bottom of the barrel, but here I am. Regardless of the relative default status of my promotion, I am thrilled. For six (long, long) years I struggled to finish my undergrad degree wherever I could fit in a class. I worked in a wedding, a graduation and a huge move in the same week, and getting the husband through the first half of law school. At every point, being a Librarian (capital L) always seemed to be the same level of far off in my perception. I never thought it would happen, it would always be a “someday” thing.

This has been on my mind a lot this week, and (in addition to NOT having the time to read blogs at work, much less answer personal emails) has kept me from posting. Also, and in an “I’m not sure I should write about this” kind of way, I got a little scared at my site hit numbers. Now, most of the new visitors to here are the people I met at the WEBS talk (Yarn Harlot event) and later at the CT Sheep and Wool picnic. Normal people, mind you. Mostly not real strangers: I ate their food, they ate mine, even if I didn’t catch names. More than that, though. Lots more. And I got scared that I couldn’t write. Not scared in a rational way, but in an avoid the computer way. I realized it had been days since I’d even checked the Yarn Harlot site, and if I’m not even checking that? Well, there’s a problem. Then, I read Stephaine’s May Day post a few days late. (I keep thinking “I’m not going to get too personal, “I’m not going to get too personal” before I write these next words. We’ll see.) I cried, I cried a lot and long and hard, for my grandfather (PopPop) that I lost this past fall. I hadn’t cried hardly at all in the eight months since he’s been gone, and her post really…got inside me. And I couldn’t stop, and I couldn’t blog and I couldn’t do anything but think of that big empty space inside.

I know that the above paragraph didn’t need to be written for anyone. I don’t need to apologize for not posting, I don’t even need to explain myself. I’ve been told by (waaay) more than one person that I care to much for what others think. In this case? I needed to get this out to move along. Next post is knitting, for sure.

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