Pettiness?

Since my post about social networking and my departure from facebook, I haven't heard a peep from any of my oldest real-life friends. Coincidence? Are they truly offended? Or too lazy to write anything more than a silly status update or tweet these days? One wonders.

Has anyone experienced the same thing?

It's a lousy, crummy world.

Drats!

Oh dear.

I had my "Betsy Brooks" sweater all done except for the sleeves, when I noticed a mistake right across the chest (a misplaced row of garter stitch). It probably wouldn't be noticeable to anyone but me, but there is No Way In Hell I would give my worst enemy something with a mistake in it, no matter how minor, so back to the knitting bag it went until I decide what to do. I also think it would be too small for Baby. So what to do? Frog it entirely and save the yarn for something else? Frog to the mistake, re-knit from there, and chalk it up to an Exercise? Leave it be, do the sleeves, and let Teddy have a jaunty new jumper? I'll have to think on it.

Meanwhile, is it worth working on a new project for Baby?

Incidently, I found some lovely baby yarn in a Pima Cotton/Modal/Angora blend at Webbs, "Baby Bunny" by Plymouth Yarn -- I think it would work up nicely for adult garments, too, especially as the colour range wasn't limited to baby pastels. In fact, there are a number of neutrals. Take a look at the colour chart at Plymouth's website.

Back In The Saddle Again (Let's Hope)

"Besty Brooks," (top) Minerva 1943

I've started a wee jumper for a Baby with whom I'm acquainted, in my beloved Velveen (the family is bi-coastal, so I thought it would be ideal for Los Angeles Winters, and New York Springs -- or chilly summers.) I'm working it in a pale yellow. I'm very nearly done with the back, and it has worked up quite quickly.

It appears to be cable-knit in the photo, but is actually a series of little squares, given depth by using a combination of garter and stockingknit stitches. I'm quite pleased with the overall effect.

Let's hope it will be appreciated a bit more than the wee argyle socks I made for a friend's new baby!

Anti-social Networking

Mademoiselle, March 1953

Photograph: Mark Shaw

This has nothing to do with knitting, but it's been preying on my mind lately. I hate blogs where the author goes on and on about the minutia of their lives, airs the dirty laundry, babbles on about too many personal details, etc, etc. And I'm not going to do that. I'm just not going to talk about knitting right now.

I've noticed that recently, my e-mail inbox has been, well, pretty empty, except for offers to try new lipgloss at Sephora, and the like, all of which I keep trying to unsubscribe to, unsuccessfully. But real e-mails -- those daily/weekly/monthly e-mails from my dearest friends? They're not there anymore. Not even annoying mass e-mails with links to things I've already read. (Because, you know, I'm literate too, and read the New York Times/The New Yorker/Salon/Vanity Fair/etc., just like you do.)

So, what's with The Mystery of the Missing Missives? I'm going to chalk it up to Facebook/Twitter/Myspace, where, apparently, chatting with your best friend is the same as sending out a one sentence status update to all 9,000 of your acquaintances at once. The ultimate mass e-mail, reduced to 134 characters. I may know what one of my friends is currently watching on the telly, but do I know how they are? No. Do I even know where they are these days? No. Because my attempts at real e-mail go unanswered. Do they know what I've been up to? It seems highly doubtful. I could drop dead the second this posts, and not a soul would know. Unless, of course, someone wondered why my Facebook status update hadn't been updated in a few months.

This bothers me. I don't like people much, so I can deal with not socializing in person. (Plus, being a shut-in, that's sort of out of the question, anyway.) I miss the joy of getting a Real Letter in my box at boarding school and college, but I can cope with e-mail. What I can't cope with is "Watching Real Housewives of East Podunk!!!!!! WOOT!!!!!" ("26 people like this"), and there it stops.

I don't believe that social networking sites are The Work of The Devil, but I do believe that, ironically, that despite the overload of ways in which to communicate with others we have these days, our society is perilously close to a breakdown of actual communication -- "What we have here is a failure to communicate," to quote the scary sunglassed guy in Cool Hand Luke. (Insert menacing southern intonation.)

I doubt I'll ever hear anything more from my friends ever again, other than a daily Facebook status update. So, I'll know what sports team they're rooting for. That they baked a loaf of bread. A-tisket, a-tasket, they're off to Kroger's with a red and yellow basket. But I won't know how they are, really, nor they I. And I think that's a rather sad thing. Maybe even worse than going AWOL entirely. (Which, as we all know, is THOR.)

But I guess while I'm not writing to friends, I'll have more time to knit.

So this post is about knitting after all.

Attention!

Design by megg87

Paging all Twi-Ravelers...

Startitis

(vintage Beehive advertisement found on e-bay)

Oh dear -- I always feel so incompetent that I can't seem to actually finish so many items that I'm working on (which are MANY). What's wrong with me? Why can't I finish those sleeves? That one glove? That seaming? It can't be that I get bored, as I love all my projects so much. Does anyone else have the same problem, or is it just me? I belong to the "Hopelessly Over-commited" group on Ravelry, but it doesn't seem to help. (Probably mostly because although I've found many interesting groups, I never participate in any. At least not anymore, as they result in "major time suckage," as my dear college roommate used to say. Le sigh.

Photos of the latest non-completed project to follow soon. (a lacy blouse from 1934 in my beloved Velveen!)

It's All about Going Green...

Westover, Facade, c. 1914

Westover, Red Hall, c. 1914

...but, I just learned from photos of, Westover, My Beloved Prep School's Centennial Celebration this past weekend, that all the original lighting fixtures have been replaced. The fixtures throughout the school, even on corridor (the dormitory), were original to the school, built in 1909, and have remained unchanged (as had all of of the decor, even down to the furniture) for all these years. Surely they could have adapted the original fixtures, perhaps with those special lightbulbs? And they were put on motion detectors whilst I was still there, so they weren't on all the time. It truly infuriates me when fixtures of architectural gems are "improved" in historical buildings. I could just cry. Behold photos taken by a student shortly after the opening of the school, from a fascinating album I found on e-bay a number of years ago. I'm just heartbroken.