
I now know that it is a cold that I am battling, not allergies. (Which, in a funny way, is really awesome–no allergy attacks this autumn, so far!) Penguin succumbed on Monday, followed by Michael and Monkeyboy on Tuesday. Here we are on Wednesday–a big bunch of sniffling, coughing sickies, too worn-out to get much done at all.
However, there was a perk to this illness: It only made you want to die for about two days. Days Three and Four are mostly just about being tired, having a nagging headache, and having too sore of a throat to accomplish anything that requires you leave your bed. And now that I’m on Day Five, I’m feeling like I’m gaining ground against this nasty little germ, and that I may just survive this yucky little ordeal.
But you saw that, right? Two whole days of being able to sit up. That translates into reading and knitting. Big time.

How many of you read
The Giver, by Lois Lowry, back in the day? (And if you haven’t–tell me your secret of how you managed to avoid all the hoopla surrounding that book.)
Yes, I read it myself, sometime in middle school. A few years ago, I found out that there were other books that followed The Giver. I was intrigued, but was also expecting another Brookelet at the time, so the information never really gained enough hold upon me to necessitate tracking down said books for reading.
Well, I happened to stumble across that information again last week, AND found out the fourth (and final) book of the series was being released this week. So I figured I’d indulge and read the middle two books and be prepared for the arrival of the fourth. Books Two and Three (Gathering Blue and Messenger) were devoured on Sunday, and Book Four (Son) was consumed yesterday after it arrived upon my doorstep. [insert blissful sigh here] I enjoy receiving a book the day it’s released and then spending the day reading it cover-to-cover.
I think I will assign some or all of these books to my children for school. I especially like The Giver for its ability to talk about agency at an appropriate age-level, Messenger for its symbolism of the Atonement, and Son for its treatment of the topic of evil and love/Satan. I like Gathering Blue for its beauty in describing colors, and I guess it would prove valuable in discussing the value of human life and how imperfection didn’t automatically denote lack of value. Actually, now that I think more about Gathering Blue, the more topics come to mind–it touches on quite a few, so I didn’t come away from the reading with as much impact in only one area as I experienced with the other books.
The knitting this week is all centered on my own family unit, with progress made on Junebug’s cardigan, and that pair of socks that I started knitting for Michael nine months ago.

I am pretty stinkin’ pleased with how this cardigan is turning out. Aside from the cable pattern, I’ve come up with everything for this pattern on my own. I’ve crunched so many numbers, knit a fair share of gauge swatches, and then just sort of threw it all out there and hoped that my calculations were correct. It makes a person feel like they are freakin’ amazing to sketch up a pathetic rendering of a idea in their head, measure the way stitches line up in a 4″ x 4″ knitted square, do a lot of math and then use all that information to create a tangible object that does indeed look like (well, honestly, looks much better) than those scribbled drawings. Fuh-reakin’ ah-mazin’. All that stands between this little cardigan and its aspiration to be a finished little cardigan are two button bands and some buttons. Oh, and grafting two little seams in the underarms.
Of course, in order to knit up those two button bands, I have to cut up the front of the cardigan. But I’ve done it before on Penguin’s cardigan, so I’m not even scared of the process. (I just added the emphasis to add a little spice to your lives, dear readers.) Before I can cut the cardigan, I do need to sew some safety seams along the proposed cutting area, and that requires using my ill-tempered sewing machine, and I just didn’t have the stoutness of heart needed to embark upon any task requiring its frustratingly stubborn intent to sabotage anything I try to sew cooperation. Perhaps, as I find myself in better health as the week progresses, I will shore up the fortitude required to patiently handle that tempermental piece of crap little machine.
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The socks that never end. I gave ’em a little more attention. It doesn’t feel like they progressed any further towards completion. |
And yes, the Michael Socks earned a period of parole from their imprisonment on the second craft shelf in the closet. (The second shelf is not a happy place for works-in-progress. Very little stands between a project and frogging when it finds itself sitting upon the second shelf.) I could frog them, but I have put a lot of work into them and at this point I’d just be throwing all that away. A pair of relatively nice socks can emerge from all this, so I will continue forward with the sluggish progress.
I have a feeling though–these socks are gonna bite me in the butt in some fashion. My gauge will be off or the yarn will do something weird–something’s not right, but I’m going to push forward with it anyway, which is insane. I guess I’m just too curious about finding out what exactly is wrong to stop knitting. We’ll commisserate and laugh about it together, when they’re finished. (And no, that’s just the first sock. I’m not even halfway done with the pair. Gah.) But, on the bright side, Michael says that they are very nice to wear, so far. They’re bunching a little at the back of his ankles, and the heel is a touch too narrow, but he insists that they feel pretty good.
Hopefully next week’s post can feature a finished object? Hmmm?
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