knitting, life


I have found myself engaged in all sorts of analog activities during these weeks of relative isolation. I got an origami kit, bought a half dozen fountain pens, made a few tentative forays into drawing. I have also been writing letters, considerably more than my usual few per year. One of the people with whom I used to exchange them quite regularly, my father’s mother, passed away early this year, so perhaps I have been making up for that by reaching out to other people more often, even those with whom I frequently text or talk.

Some of it, I know, is a self-conscious chronicling of These Unusual Times, like I’m auditioning for a future role in a Ken Burns documentary. I’ve noticed another attitude has crept in lately, on top of that one, a sort of hyper-awareness of the fact that letters written on paper and sent through the mail are immune to the Big Data vacuums that hover just offscreen in our every digital action. No one is going to send me or my correspondent ads based on the written contents, or the design on the card, or the inexpertly crafted origami boat I enclosed. (They may now, based on this post.) There is no record of its existence outside of itself.

Speaking of the analog arts, a knitting update. This is seven or eight inches. I’m quite pleased with how it’s coming along.



What I’ve Been Doing Instead of Writing


The Monster Skein is no more. The results will be going to the Blanket Project. Today I wound one of my skeins of fancy alpaca yarn and cast on a scarf. So far this year, if memory serves, I have used five skeins of yarn and bought two, which is good for my storage space.

Nothing much to say on the writing front other than that I have started re-reading the draft so I can get back into it. Have also been busy getting ready for school to resume. This week, unfortunately, I have to drive to PA to attend my grandfather’s funeral, and right after that is Labor Day weekend with all of the usual get-togethers for that side of the family. We shall see what eventuates.

knitting, life, writing

Two. More. Chapters.

…And then this draft is finally done. The novel I’ve been alternately ignoring and pecking at for two years will be finished if I can plant my ass in a chair and write two chapters.

This might be why I’ve been feeling a touch anxious this week, now that I think about it. There has also been a great deal of demotivational nonsense at work.

So what else does a rational person do but start an enormous new knitting project, right? Six rows down, and… lots to go. I’ll be heading to the Farm to Fiber festival in Boston tomorrow morning, and will doubtless pick up more materials there (to go with the ones I still have from last year–no one warned me that this stuff was addictive!). 2019-02-07 20.07.48Best thing? Given how fine this yarn is, no one’s gonna be able to see the mistakes.

I hope you all have a lovely weekend.