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In one sense, sure, of course my knitting is trying to kill me. I could be out playing lacrosse, raising my heart rate, but instead I'm sitting (in an extremely comfortable chair), moving my hands around slightly. Luckily I try to work hard to compensate (hello, Fitbit and Gold's Gym), but still, it's not the world's healthiest hobby. But lately, my knitting has taken a turn for the dark side. It's actively plotting against me, to the extent that any random collection of pointy sticks and soft plied strands of fibers can. I first noticed it in my elbow. Somehow the repetitive motion of moving stitches to and fro has caused a bursitis in my elbow, normally only seen in the elbows of Victor
I was on a quest At Stitches West For yarn for a vest By Stephen West And another vest By Stephen West (that's not a jest, I'm a bit obsessed). Alpaca is best. Only one week after Madrona in Tacoma, I was in Santa Clara for Stitches West. Completely accidentally—my Great Aunt Olive had passed away, and her Celebration of Life coincided with the same weekend. And as she was a knitter herself, I knew she wouldn't mind if I acquired a three-day pass and made the most of the circumstance. Everyone warned me it was huge, and it is, many times larger than Madrona, even larger than Knit City which had grown alarmingly large last time I checked (their width is about the same, but not their depth (
I'm beginning with a sidebar, then getting on to the knitting. Ahem: Nobody reads Edward George Bulwer-Lytton anymore. Though popular in his day, he just doesn't hold up the way Dickens or Eliot do. In his commercial triumph The Last Days of Pompeii, the opening sentence alone is enough to put you off your feed: "'HO, Diomed, well met! Do you sup with Glaucus to-night?' said a young man of small stature, who wore his tunic in those loose and effeminate folds which proved him to be a gentleman and a coxcomb." He's most famous for this gloriously overwrought opening sentence in Paul Clifford: "It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it
I'm recovering from a nasty bout of flu (is there any other kind?), and didn't get a chance to update you with the good news: Yes, I'm officially Master of the Universe: Sophie's Universe, to be specific. Last week I successfully completed Round 113, the final official round of this project. I haven't blocked it yet (I'll explain why later--it's not just laziness), but otherwise, here it is: I started this attractive monster last February, if I recall correctly. I'd walked into my LYS (Three Bags Full), and Melissa (the lovely lady who originally taught me stranded knitting and how to use double points) had left behind one of her projects, an unfinished Sophie's Universe in the official co