I have a little problem. I'm addicted to Ravelry. It doesn't seem to matter whether or not I need whatever project it is that I'm lusting after at that particular moment. Like these really awesome fingerless gloves. Handy, right?
Right?
Anyone there?
Harumph. I like them. Even though they don't keep my fingers warm.
I've decided that my next project, since I, um, really need another hat, is to make a hat with a snowflake on it. Colorwork. ACK. Which not only means that I need to buy some more yarn (poor me), but that I need to figure out how the whole thing works. Which led me to watch this video on Continental knitting. I've watched it and rewound several times, but I don't think I'm quite there yet.
It's kind of like when I tried snowboarding on a ski vacation once - I'm a relatively good skier and was really irritated by the fact that I was doing the same thing (i.e. getting down a snowy mountainside), but slowly and mostly on my ass. Not that Continental knitting has anything to do with my ass. Ahem.
I have a somewhat alarming pile of books at the moment (a result of the feast-or-famine whims of the Suffolk Library queuing system). I'm part of the way into Edward Rutherfurd's New York, which I'm finding about the same as London. It's relatively compelling, mostly because it's about a place I know so well (and New Ro has the odd cameo...hooray for the Huguenots!).
I'm going to finish it, but I'm not enjoying it anywhere near as much as "the best book I've read recently," Graceling. That link is actually to the author's blog, where she recommended "The Thief." A mark of how much I liked Graceling: since the Suffolk Libraries didn't own a copy of The Thief, I had to...shudder...BUY a copy on Amazon.co.uk. I'll recover, eventually. Although I might hold Kristin Cashore personally responsible if I don't like it.
I also read the latest Chris Bohjalian, The Double Bind. Not as good as Midwives (his most famous Oprah-book), but better than some of his more recent books. I quite liked the tie-in with The Great Gatsby, despite not really enjoying Gatsby all that much when I read it. AND he's one of two famous Vermont author that I've actually met. (The other is Jodi Picoult.) My college boyfriend's parents live near Burlington, VT, and are friendly with his family. When I spent Christmas at their house my senior year, he was invited to a party that they threw and I met him. V. nice but talks like he writes, which was a little startling.
I guess rather than feeling guilty for spending all of my time reading and knitting, I should embrace the fact that it's northern Europe in the winter and it's COLD and DARK outside. WOOT!
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