First of all, the Ravelry contest. As best I can count, I got 6 entries. One of the lucky 6 will win the pretty, pretty sock yarn!
Here are the guesses:
Sara Fail – Oct 13, 2007 (hm, I like this one – that’s this weekend!)
Marion – Oct 20, 2007
Tamie – Dec 3, 2007
Brindsay – Jan 30, 2008
Laura – March 27, 2008
Hope Martin – April 2008
and here’s what Ravelry sez:
* You signed up on August 30, 2007
* You are #29977 on the list.
* 3380 people are ahead of you in line.
* 12056 people are behind you in line.
* 60% of the list has been invited so far
They’re moving right along, but Saturday no longer seems likely. (It seemed so distant when I signed up!)
Second, work is still kicking my ass. This project was supposed to be done in August, but everything that could possibly go wrong has. Well, nearly – I don’t want to tempt fate. Trust me, you don’t want to hear the gory details. None of the problems are things that could possibly turn into entertaining stories, I’m afraid. They all have to do with statistics, and bad data, and unworkable methods, and time-consuming dead ends.
Which means: the house is a disaster (except for the tiny bits of cleaning I did this weekend), the store is waaay behind schedule, the blog is behind schedule, none of my own personal projects are getting done, and I’m bleary-eyed from too much computer time. Plus, my brain hurts (see above, statistical problems). Hey, so there’s an up-side to the long time it takes to get a Ravelry invite!
Whine, whine, whine. Yes, I did know what the job was like before I started, and yes I realize how lucky I am to get paid to sit around and think all day. My thinking even leads to practical, useful, tangible results, at least long-term. But some days, six months on the beach sounds like the perfect solution. Right now, I’d even take six days at home so that I could fix the roof and get caught up on life. Ain’t gonna happen.
Y’all don’t come here to listen to me whine, and you certainly don’t come here to listen to me talk about work. If you’re really interested in that sort of thing, I can point you toward some other blogs that do just that (and there are some excellent ones). Here, we talk about string. Well, and books. And books about string. And string for books (or at least if I would ever get that weaving bookmarks article finished).
I picked up Mason-Dixon Knitting
The log cabin stuff in particular looked like fun, but oddest to me was their dishcloth thang. You see, Ann and Kay talk at great length about knitting cotton washclothes. This had never made any sense to me – seems like a waste of good knitting. But they convinced me to give it a try, and you know, that’s a really good size to practice new patterns and stitches, isn’t it?
So off to Michael’s I trot, to pick up some cotton yarn. I have weaving cotton around, in vast quantity, but that would make a nasty washcloth, and take forever to knit besides. I need some instant-gratification knitting. And look! On sale for a dollar a ball. It’s a sign from the god of knitters, or patron saint, or something like that. (Digression: My favorite medieval saint is St. Blaise, patron saint of spinners. The poor guy was martyred with wool combs. There are some delightfully gruesome medieval illustrations of this. Knitters, though, no clue, except I’m certain there is one.) Anyway, I might perhaps have bought a whole bag of cotton yarn. Hey, it was on sale!
I have to date completed one washcloth, in something vaguely resembling a log cabin pattern.
I read the section on log cabin in the Mason-Dixon book. Okay, this makes sense. But I returned the book to the library before I started the washcloth. I didn’t do it the way you’re supposed to. For one thing, I didn’t count. Anything. Ever. Good thing I’m not an engineer, isn’t it?
