Light and Momentary

House of Geeks, Installment #321,627

Stella was up in her room, singing and getting dressed. She came down and announced to Elwood and me that she was sorry she had taken so long. "I was just thinking about prime numbers," she explained. I mentioned this to the boys at dinner, and they cheered. The boy sitting next to her gave her a high-five, welcoming her to their quirky fraternity.

I'm...not sure she'd get quite the same reaction at the school lunch table that she did at our family dinner table.

**

Yesterday afternoon I was feeling crabby after the Saturday housekeeping jobs were all done. This sounds sad and whiny now, but I didn't want to walk across the kitchen floor, which was freshly mopped and not even by me. The not-by-me element of that job meant that it was quite puddly, and I had already dampened a pair of socks upon it and switched them out for fresh ones. 

The kids knew I was tired and cranky. "We'll help you!" Joe assured me. He and Pete attempted to link arms, to make me a sort of human palanquin. It worked about as well as you might expect, but at least laughter resulted rather than injuries. Stella announced that she would carry me across the floor single-handedly. "Oh, sweetie," I said, "I'm too heavy for you." She tried to lift me anyway. "Do you weigh a hundred pounds?" she asked. "More than that," I told her. She came right back with "Do you weigh a thousand pounds?"

Joe burst out laughing. "She's using Fermi estimation to guess your weight!" he said.

Think how much more peaceful American women would feel if they could report their weight using Fermi estimates. There's something to be said for that approach.

 

KAL IAQ*

(*that's "Knitalong Infrequently Asked Questions")

How does a person decide that she is in urgent need of a sweater made from Icelandic wool?

Well, I love a good knitalong. And I love the Mason-Dixon ladies, whose first book pulled me back into knitting after many years away. And I love a good sticky wool, and I love a bargain, and I was just ruminating over another project (as I was knitting the first half of it for the third time, because the specified needle left me with a mitt suitable for a Gorg and the size down was not a substantial improvement -- ARGH) about how different Icelandic colorwork motifs are from Fair Isle peeries and OXOs. So when Kay and Ann announced a Stopover KAL, I was in like Flynn-sdottir.

Wait, how can a sweater's worth of imported wool be a bargain?

You guys, in Iceland they sell yummy beautiful wool at the grocery store. You can pop in to pick up your quart of milk liter of skyr and snag some gorgeous and inexpensive yarn at the same time, whereas in American grocery stores we have 52 flavors of Hot Pockets, heaven help us, and no wool whatsoever. It almost makes a person want to move to Iceland. Except for the geysers erupting at unpredictable intervals. And the 6 hours of daylight at this time of year. And the sky-high cost of items other than yarn. And the fact that I don't speak Icelandic. Maybe not so much with moving to Iceland. 

So, having fun?

I was having a ton of fun. Even the rip-out-and-redo parts were fun, because isn't it fascinating, the way that the Spring Green Heather in the skein is the delicious pale green of baby willow leaves, but the presence of the Glacier Blue transmogrifies it into a funky acid green that practically requires a person to put the Lagoon Heather in between them? Who could resist the pull of a busy happy Ravelry forum full of enthusiastic knitters planning their color pops? (I went with raspberry sherbet. And then I ordered extra so Stella and I could have matchy-matchy mother-daughter sweaters.) So: I got gauge two weekends ago, I cast on February 1 as scheduled, I cranked out a sweater. Veni, vidi, vici -- almost.

I fear I hear the drumbeats of doom in that last sentence. Why's that?

Because I wanted a cardigan. You might think I would have learned from my last steeking misadventure that I am not actually the knitting badass I aspire to be, but you would be wrong. Alas. 

So you are not as much of a knitting ninja (a kninja?) as you think you are?

No, I am a knincompoop. My nice sticky Icelandic wool was supposed to, you know, STICK. But there seem to be some antisocial stitches up in the yoke of my sweater, who are declining to continue to link elbows with their neighbors. EEK.

Do you mean to tell me that your lovingly crafted buttonbands, the ones with the nifty bits of intarsia to allow you to keep that cute striped rib going, are coming unmoored from the body of the sweater?

I...can't even talk about it right now.

No, actually, that's not true, because why would I be writing this blog post if I didn't want to talk about it? I am going to attempt to salvage a soupçon of badassery from this tureen of dumbassery. I had planned to whip-stitch my facings in place, but I think I might try a post-hoc crochet chain on the wrong side instead. And swear off unsecured steeks forevermore, or at least until I have forgotten the taste of this particular assemblage of ashes and acrimony.

And then you'll have a lovely fluffy cardigan?

No. The thing about a fast knit is that you still have to do the same amount of finishing, only it feels a little more soul-sucking because the ratio of fun:un-fun is considerably less favorable. After I persuade the buttonbands that they really do want to remain attached to the rest of the sweater, I want to do some duplicate stitch at the yoke to create more separation between the Glacier Blue and the Spring Green. Then I might sprinkle in some pink at the cuffs and hem. After that I have to sew on the buttons and fix those armpit gaps I always get with a raglan and then weave in ends until Jesus comes back. There are SO MANY ENDS that it makes a person think of the final words of a more famous writer: Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

Already?

You guys, did you notice? It's Ash Wednesday already! How did that happen?!

Things keep sneaking up on me this semester. I am teaching three classes for the first time, and two of them are new preps, and the weeks keeping whizzing by in a welter of hectic uncertainty. So...I guess...it's Lent somehow?

I've been thinking all day about a Lenten plan, which would have been a better puzzle to solve a week or two ago. (We will gloss over the sad fact that one of my new year's resolutions was "think ahead more consistently." I'm working on it.)

Things I know about myself: (1) Lent goes better when I have a single clear focus, instead of planning vaguely to Do All The Things. (2) Lent also goes better when I am not resolving to get other people to do things.

Practices I am considering:

1. Giving up worrying about the #1 Thing That Worries Me (which is kind of a squishy goal but likely to have salutary effects)
2. Resolving to get in bed at 10 each night and pray compline (which is a good discipline with a BTDT feel)
3. Blogging every day (because you know the angels sing when I write about knitting and the Whole 30)
4. Praying vespers with the family (violation of #2 above but I'd love to make it work)

Things I will not be giving up:

1. Coffee
2. Hot showers

For one long-ago Lent I gave up both at the same time. (This made me every bit as pleasant as you might expect.) 

So. Ideas? Inspiration? It just can't be something that lands in my email inbox, because I can't deal with any more mass emails.