Disordered Thoughts

I've been working on John Anderson's Kilt Hose before bed while listening to the Moby Dick Big Read podcast (it's free!), and I've come to several conclusions all around:

1) Working worsted-weight yarn on size 3 needles should not be attempted with flexible needles, and never, ever try to Magic Loop with a very short circular with a stiff cable, unless you enjoy fighting with your knitting and dropping stitches.

2) They weren't kidding about the homoeroticism, and I'm usually not good at spotting that kind of thing

3) I'm pretty sure I've done the Eye of the Partridge heel stitch wrong, but as long as it matches the first sock  I'm not going to do ANY MORE ripping back.

4) I really want to try making cod chowder now.

5) When leaving ends to weave in, longer is definitely better

6)  Let me interrupt my crazy dream sequence with a lesson in whale classification!  They are definitely a fish!  The sperm whale is the bestest whale EVAR!  And the biggest!  Dolphins are good luck, and mighty tasty, too!  Have some poetry!

7) Stitch count?  What stitch count?  I'll just add a stitch here to fix that . . .

In other podcast news, I've discovered the addicting marvelousness that is CraftLit, and may God bless brilliant Heather Ordover and her lovely voice for it.

I had a hard time deciding where to start.  The beginning?  No, I've had my fill of "Pride and Prejudice" for a while.  Same with the current book, "Jane Eyre."  I've read "Jane Eyre" about four times in the last few years.  Shall I give "Gulliver's Travels" another try?  No, I'm not quite in the mood for the . . . earthiness that I recall from the first couple chapters.  What's this right before Gulliver?  Dracula?  Score!  I just downloaded the e-book to my Kindle, but I can't read that in the car on the way to work.

Admittedly, I've read "Dracula" around three or four times since high school, too, but it's been a while now, and it's just that good.  The pop culture overload that the story and character suffer from have reduced them to something almost cartoonish and wholly unrecognizable from the eerie, well-written little novel that it began as.  I sincerely wish I could have read it in a world without even Bela Lugosi's pitch-perfect performance, because the first time you read the book, you come with all these preconceptions about the name Dracula, and it means that so much of the carefully-crafted build up and suspense is lost the moment the words Castle Dracula appear on the page.

Side note:  I hate iTunes' new setup.

My original plan for CraftLit was to start at "Stoked!" and listen straight on through until I'd caught up, and then go back and listen from the beginning, but every time Ms. Ordover references an earlier book my resolve changes.  On the other hand, 222 episodes to catch up on, and new episodes all the time.  Oy vey.  Whatever I finally decide, my forty minute commute just got much more interesting.

Work on the test-knit continues with feverish intensity, having eclipsed the baby dress that I will have to pick up with similar intensity when I'm done, and thus have I discovered that knitting with a deadline (perhaps excluding Christmas) well and truly sucks all the joy out of knitting.  It's startitis season!  There are a dozen things I want to start!  An Aran for Frederick!  An Aran for Anne!  The Briar Rose Tunic!  Gather Ye Rosebuds fingerless gloves!  Susie Roger's Reading Mitts!  Anything but the infernal things I've chained myself to!

I am enjoying the kilt hose, though.  I've turned the heel, switched to DPNs, and it's so much nicer now.  How did I ever manage to knit the first sock on that infernal little circular?  Needs must, I suppose.

The Basement is a Very Scary Place

Today was Silas's birthday.  I had to work one of those day-eating shifts, 8:30 to 5:30, that means that I leave the house at 7:30 and don't get back until 6:30.  All in all, I got to spend about two hours with my little man before he rubbed his eyes and I whisked him into bed to see if he'd go down without a fight.  He rolled over, hummed to himself a little, and was out like a light.

Working full time really bites some days.

Once I was sure he was fully out, I tiptoed around his room and gathered up all his clothes to do a load of laundry.  I went down the basement full of the cheerful optimism that comes with the knowledge that I'm going to accomplish something for a change.  I put the hamper down in front of the washing machine and as I straightened up something horrifying with too many legs ran across the wall.

I froze.  "What was that?" I thought wildly.  "I don't know," I immediately rejoined, "but clearly we should be wearing shoes."  Cue the ever-dignified scene of a grown woman fleeing the basement for her life.

I suspect that creepy-crawlies are the natural inhabitants of damp basements everywhere, but let me just say GAAAAAAAAAH!

I put on shoes, I went back downstairs, I put the load in, and I only hesitated a little when something of similar build to the first hell-creature ran out from under the quilt I picked up off the floor.  Laundry is happening.  Somehow or other I will convince myself to go back downstairs to transfer it to the dryer.

First, however, I'm going to put a chicken in the crockpot and try to enjoy the idea of buying a chicken on sale to cook and freeze for future meals, like a proper thrifty housewife.  I'm terrible at this kind of foresight.  I'm terrible at housewifery in general.  But I'm trying today.  Effort is being made.

Another thing I'm terrible at - time management.  It's after 10 and there's a hundred other things I was going to blog about, but I have a load to switch over and a chicken to cook and a test-knit to work on.

GAAAAAAAH!