Don't you wish it were that simple? Perhaps not. I've always liked the number forty-two, being such a fan of Douglas Adams.
Yesterday was reasonably productive, from a delving and decluttering standpoint. A few highlights:
We love books. Reading and owning a sizeable book collection has always been an important part of our identity, yet the impending requirement to downsize our possessions cannot, practically speaking, exclude the books.


Our initial estimate was that we could manage to take along enough to fill six of these smallish shelves:
Note what already takes up one sixth of our can't-live-without-'em space.
I have been forced to give careful thought to what actually makes it so important to me to own all these books - or any given book, for that matter.
- Buying (when you can) rather than borrowing is something of a financial courtesy to the author, which in turn makes it more likely that good books will continue to be published.
- Being surrounded by books makes me feel rich in ideas and wisdom and vicariously shared experiences. I love bookstores in very much the same way as yarn or fabric stores - for the sense of potential and possibility contained on those overflowing shelves. It is hard to imagine giving up either stash.
- I identify myself as "the sort of person who is surrounded by books." This one bears careful examination, because it is perilously close to being attached to an object for the sake of status. A large and eclectic collection of great books creates an aura of knowledge and sophistication - "well-read" is an undeniably admirable quality. Would it say anything different about me if I no longer owned all those books I've read?
- I want my children to grow up with books, to experience the delight of raiding the bookshelf on a rainy afternoon and discovering all those wonderful stories that I wish I could read again for the first time. It is also a way of passing on part of myself - because so much of how I see the world is influenced by the books I have read - my children can dip into that same well of story and idea and take away bits to become part of their own selves.
I think, in the end, there will be more than six shelves. But we have decided that what we can't keep, we will take to Whistler and donate to the local library which, last I checked, was woefully understocked. Not only will they then be shared, but they also won't feel so far away.
-----------------------------
I also dug up more yarn (big surprise.) This is Baghdad Blue from Peace Fleece:
Is it just me, or is this considerably more purple than blue? It was the first time I've been really stunned by the difference between the webstore's photo and the real life color. I'm not exactly complaining, because it's a beautiful color, scrumptious wool, and a company with a great cause, but I thought it might be worth a mention in case anyone reading plans to order it. Personally, I chose to see it as an opportunity to break away from my blue rut.
Here's the handpainted skeins in "heavenly blues" I bought to coordinate:

This is from Alice Starmore's Fishermen's Sweaters (worth having as eye candy even if you never knit a single thing from it). I made it a little ways into the armhole steeks when I began to have a sinking sensation about the quantity of yarn left.

This is a loose fitting sweater with long sleeves - am I really going to get the remainder of the bodice as well as two sleeves out of the yarn pictured here? I was not nearly so confident a knitter when I bought the supplies and basically put blind faith in the yardage calculations done by the woman at the LYS in Winnipeg. My gauge is on, or if anything, a little small (which is fine, since I am slender) and I am in a real quandry. It is a spectacular design, which I would love to finish, and a great learning experience in traditional gansey construction - just look at the way the pattern flows into the underarm gusset:
It is also very labor intensive and I don't want to plug along blindly and wind up short a sleeve's worth. The navy yarn is Paton's Country Gardens DK (which does not appear to exist anymore) and the red and oatmeal are a King Cole merino superwash, which does, although I'm sure the original dyelots are long gone. What odds the King Cole navy would match this one if I were to run out? I guess there's only one way to find out.Learning point here: make sure you have plenty of yardage when you substitute AND beware leaving a UFO so long that its yarn is discontinued.
All at once, I knew exactly how the black silk dress was going to look. Bear with me, it looks a whole lot better inside my brain. (I wonder if you can take correspondence courses in fashion drawing.) I knew I wanted strong vertical lines skimming the body and accentuating (and in certain places creating the illusion of...) the curves. I had been mulling over a number of not-quite-right ideas, and then it hit me: cables.

At this point, I elected to try my first
See how cunningly the wrong side of the front is knitted to the right side of the back? 

I took this photo in the low-angle early morning (told you I can't sleep in) light so as to highlight the lovely stitch textures.
I'm thinking of a crew necked pullover with big cables. I have 5 metres of the blue, which I picked up for next to nothing because it was a botched dye job - cut up and knitted, it just looks like subtly variegated yarn. Of course, none of this is going to get made for a while, but I wanted to satisfy myself that it was worth bringing along.
Just look at that baby grow - this sweater is so much fun to knit. Much much more fun now that the Addis arrived - I was getting serious tendinitis after only a few rows with the cheapo plastic needles. What an amazing difference. I didn't mention before that I have elected to knit this guy all in one piece, rather than separate back and sides as per the pattern - I just couldn't bear the thought of those huge lumpy seams. Also, the whole thing is only 86 stitches around - seemed silly to split it up three ways. It does have set-in sleeves, and I'm going to do something I've always wanted to try - knit the sleeves in the round and fit the set-in seam with one round piece inside the other. That will eliminate the lumpy junction under the arm.
This was purchased on our very first holiday as a couple, back in 1994. We were living on Vancouver Island at the time and drove down the coast, making it halfway down the Baja before time ran out and we had to turn around. This pot caused no end of domestic tension over how it was packed and whether the heaving of luggage on top of it was done carelessly and in a fashion likely to cause its demise. The pot made it home intact, and within a week, the cat knocked it over, breaking one of the handles. The sticks inside are cactus driftwood, picked up on the same trip. I thought, and still think, that weathered sticks naturally full of evenly spaced holes ought to be the starting point for an amazing piece of art. In 14 years, I have yet to come up with something, but I still really like the sticks, so they might come to Whistler. The pot will stay behind. 

Look how big he's gotten already, with just a few minutes here and there - the magic of super bulky yarn.



The silk arrived yesterday, and I was relieved to see that it is a lovely dark olive green, just like the color sample on the monitor. I am completely taken with the Roundabout Leaf Tank - in fact, I bought
(Crocheted silver, and the card was designed by photoediting one of my yarn photos.) Can you see a pattern of avoidance developing here? Actually, this is a very worthy project - a thank-you gift to my daughter's kindergarten teacher, and since this is the last day of school, it had to get done today. I leave the house in 5 minutes to pick her up and drop it off.
Tahki's Baby Tweed, in a rich navy blue with flecks of turquoise and sky blue - soft luscious wool wrapped with a viscose thread.
And knits at.... ahem *blush* 2 stitches to the inch. Consequently, I anticipate it will not take an inordinate amount of time to produce one of these:
It's not a wildly original cutting edge design or even particularly challenging (although IK gives it a 3 out of 4) but it immediately caught my eye. This is the comfort cardigan I've wanted, well - all my life really. It will be soft and warm, with a homey, unpretentious nubbly texture, and is saturated with my happiest, most serene colors.
After an hour or so with the stitch dictionary and the ever-growing swatch, I settled on KISS - keep it stocking stitch. I'm very pleased with how it's coming together, although this is my least favorite bit of any sleeveless garment. So flimsy and fiddly, and multiple balls of yarn going every which way. The bamboo and the Mystik DK are particularly tangle prone - once released from their ball bands they instantly disassemble themselves and attempt to throttle one another. 


You can see the fan going from 6 eyelets down to 4 without any fuss or puckering. The bodice is going to be tricky because that's the part where the knit needs to cling and support and this bamboo yarn is the least elastic fibre I've ever worked with, the Mystik DK (cotton/viscose) being a close second. I swatched some stockinette and then some 2x2 ribbing above it - the ribs just splayed out limply, disinclined to provide so much as a hint of a pucker. Clearly "drapey" will be the order of the day, but there's a fine line between drapey and saggy. Judicious application of crochet may be in order for the edgings. Also a careful search of the stitch dictionary for something purported to produce a "firm but elastic fabric." Fortuitously, I'm long waisted, so there are several more inches in which to ponder my next move.
It was also supposed to be mostly in a variety of Louet Sales wools, (plus a bit of mohair and linen). I choose bamboo and cotton/viscose (as well as the mohair and linen):
Pretty much the opposite end of the elasticity spectrum. I had my doubts about the pattern too, as it went along - the crocheted seams stick out quite a bit more than they seemed to in the photo, and to my eyes looked more lumpy and unfinished than fetching. I may be a purist, but I like the bumpy bits in my knitting to be stitchwork, like cables and such, not seams. If something is going to be patchwork, I prefer to pick up stitches along the edge to knit with, or at the very least graft an invisible join.
In retrospect, I think the printed gauge may have been wrong, because the bodice was also knitting up to be about right for a six year old. By that time, however, I was sick to death of the thing, and not the least bit motivated to do a bunch more swatching and calculating, so the bag went to the back of the stash and I moved on to happier things for a while.
Because stretching my free hand as far in front of me as I can get to snap an upside down shot of my waist while the kids try to jiggle my arm is simply not as entertaining as it looks. DH believes there will not be room in our (admittedly small) new digs for a replica of my headless torso. I'm trying to think of this in a positive light - ie. he is clearly not pining to add a live-in mistress or a third child to the household. On the other hand, it sounds awfully like the wrong answer to the question: Do you think my torso looks fat? Think about it. 

I have to admit, as boring and plain as the pattern was to knit, the sizing is exactly as it purported to be, and the set in sleeves fit like a dream. If I were to do it again (Not), I would knit it in the round and use EZ's false seam up the sides for reinforcement. I made flawless selvedged edges and wove them together in perfect alignment exactly as prescribed in 




