Knit Sisters

Those faithful blog readers among you (and there are many, bless your hearts!) may have noticed that my posts have been somewhat few and far between lately.  There is a reason for this, although it is complicated and involves others who have as much right to their privacy as anyone else.

Trying to write a good blog is hard, I’ve found, for that very reason.  How much do you reveal about your personal life?  And, because all of us have lives that intersect with others’ lives in a myriad of ways, how much can you, in good faith, reveal about the lives of those close to you?

Do you stick slavishly to the topic at all times?  Most of you know by now that Ellen and I don’t really do that.  It would be easier, in some ways, but I think the blog would be the poorer for it.  After all, why do we read blogs?  For the topic, yes, but also for the glimpse into another person’s life.  And yet, if those of us who write blogs reveal too much about our lives, we risk violating the privacy of those people dearest to us, at worst, or simply becoming banal and tedious, at best.  (I firmly believe that no one really wants to read about how much cereal I ate for breakfast.)

But, and this is a big but, how in the world am I to write cheerfully about knitting or anything else when the top tier of my mind is constantly taken up with a large and distressing problem?  But, you see, I can’t write about that problem openly on the blog because it would mean violating the privacy of another, someone whom I love dearly and believe has the right not to have his troubles written up on the internet for all the world to see.

All of this is a long, roundabout way of telling you all that my presence on the blog will be decreased for a while.  My goal is to write a post once a week; that’s about what I’ve been managing for the last several weeks.  More than that, I’m finding, I just cannot accomplish right now.

My thanks and love go out to my dear sister, Ellen, who has not pressured or chided me in any way during this time, and who has graciously offered to take over the bulk of the blogging for now.  And my gratitude and appreciation go out to all of you as well, our long-standing as well as our new readers.

I ask for your prayers.

When you receive a handknit gift…

Such as, for example, an Elephant Baby Sweater

…from a friend or loved one, you may find yourself wondering, “How should I respond? What does etiquette dictate? How can I express my gratitude in such a way as to receive further handknit gifts in the future?”

Wonder no more!

Below please find a superior response model. Feel free to adapt and modify for your own purposes, but be sure to retain a similar tone of unfettered enthusiasm and unbridled gratitude:

Ellen!!!! Thank you so, so, much for the adorable sweater for A.!

I’m filled with gratitude and send my warmest thoughts,
J.

Now that’s the way it’s done.

There was in fact, more to my D.C. experience last week than just this:

An assortment of scriveners toiling away at the National Archives.

Although sitting in front of a computer with a musty box (or twenty-four) at my side did account for the vast majority of my time.

But the beauty of archives is that they close on weekends. What is a hard-working historian to do but…

…go to the National Gallery and see some rather impressive Calders?

My uncle took me, bless his heart. He is a physicist and probably not in truth that enthused about art, but he went to oblige me.

Uncle is shown here, however, taking a call from his mechanic explaining that my aunt’s car needed some expensive repairs. I frankly thought my uncle was going to pass out from the shock. He does not enjoy spending money. Unlike some of us, who enjoy it rather too much. Particularly given the paltry amount we earn. But let’s not dwell on that, shall we not?

There were traditional D.C. photo ops:

Here’s where it all happens. Or not, depending on the particular Congress.

And then the weekend was over and I went back to the archive. Some historians are what we call “archive rats,” the history version of the “gym rat” of the physical culture world. I am not, however, one of those historians. Once I’m out of the archive, I get great enjoyment out of using my documents and sources toward some bigger analytical point, but I do not particularly enjoy the process of procuring those documents and sources, which involves sitting there hour after hour going through vast reams of paper, most of it totally irrelevant to your topic.

It’s about as enjoyable as working in a zinc mine. But with better lighting. And usually better ventilation, although that is not guaranteed.

Thankfully, I am now home and the fun part of the work can begin.

In knitting news, I sent the Elephant Baby Sweater to its intended recipient on Thursday; she should receive it today. I stopped short of demanding that the child’s mother take a photo of the child wearing the sweater and send it to me immediately, but I was tempted. They are lovely people and they will probably think of it anyway.

I hope.

I also held back from demanding that the child’s mother produce another baby in short order so that the sweater could get double use. That seemed just a tad rude and presumptuous. I mean, just a tad. But it would make me very, very happy if two babies wore that sweater… I’m just sayin’, is all.

I have also decided that this fall will be “The Fall of Finishing.” Some of the more loyal and astute readers may have noticed that there are several items that have been introduced on the blog, but never unveiled as finished objects.

There’s a reason for that.

But now them U.F.O.s are going to land!

First, Minnie. Remember Minnie?

Her lovely beaded front.

Green beads and green buttons.

The back.

Fortunately, I am still feeling the love for Minnie and I am very nearly done. Although not quite as done as it looks, unhappily, because once I finish this second sleeve, I am going to frog most of the first:

Respectable in its way, but there’s no way around the ugly fact that I made it too short. I had some goofy idea about how I was going to accidentally drag the bell sleeve in my soup or some such nonsense and I got carried away with this notion and now the sleeve is grievously stunted and there is only one solution. Ribbit.

Horrifically, I also did this at the underarm:

Blech. Too much stockinette where I should have continued the lacy pattern. What was I thinking?

All by way of saying, the completed sleeve leaves much to be desired.

We can rebuild it. We have the technology. We also have the motivation. And plenty of extra yarn, something I bet the Six Million Dollar Man never had.

Minnie completion is my immediate goal. Then I’m going to tackle my version of Bristow, which has a back and two fronts, but has never been seamed or sleeved, and return at long last to Rogue, another sweater for which I am still feeling the love, but which is another material reminder that love is not all you need.

You need sleeves.