read good

I recently rediscovered Goodreads - I may be the last book lover to start using it. Believe it or not, I signed up in 2010 in my last semester of library school, and proceeded to forget all about it until someone on ravelry reminded me. The situation has been rectified. It's not only great for keeping track of and sharing things you've read, but it's also got an interesting book recommendation feature that I think I'll use a lot. If you're interested in what I'm reading, you can find me here.

To populate my Goodreads page, I spent a while adding all the books I read in 2011 (from my super high tech Word doc master list of reading goodness). This exercise brought to light a theme in my reading habits last year that I hadn't noticed at the time.

In the past, I've nearly always had books on request at the library with an idea of what I'd like to read next. Despite all my expensive librarian training, reader's advisory tools, and the rest of it, I found myself kind of listless about my reading choices for part of last year. I took to picking books off the shelf at random, which is not necessarily a bad way of choosing books, but it wasn't the most successful.

In 2011 I apparently read lots of short-stories from collections that I picked up off the shelf during my randomness reading programme. I usually prefer novels, but this year short-stories were the thing: serious, silly, twisted, and thought-provoking.

Here are some of the collections I perused last year:

The Bears of England by Mick Jackson.
Hilarious short stories about bears. Written as if it were historical, the collection investigates the influential role of bears in all aspects of life throughout English history.

Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall by Kazuo Ishiguro
Love, music, loneliness, the passage of time, chance meetings, cafés...

The Obelisk by E.M. Forster
Stories unpublished in his lifetime due to controversial (that is, gay) themes. Although most of them don't read as controversial now, they are heartfelt, significant, and clever.

My Goat Ate Its Own Legs by Alex Burrett
By far the weirdest collection of short-stories I read last year. Totally bizarre, surreal, absurd, and very enjoyable. I picked it up because of the crazy title and because the corner of the book had a bite taken out of it. (By design, of course).


Notwithstanding by Louis de Bernières
Stories set in a fictional village in Surrey that explore the eccentricities of life there through the ages.

One City by Alexander McCall Smith, Irvine Welsh, and Ian Rankin
Stories about Edinburgh by authors who live or have lived there.

Kiss Kiss by Roald Dahl
Weird and twisted stories aimed at adults, but still containing the fun of his works for kids.

Little Red at Last

Guess what I got for Christmas?



It's been described and reviewed all over the internet already, but I'll add my impressions to the mix. As a follower of Ysolda's blog, I'd been looking forward to this book for ages prior to its release last year. (Disclaimer: though I have been an Ysolda fan since before I moved to Edinburgh, I am not a creepy stalker. I feel a bit self-consciously creepy about this it nonetheless.)

Lauriel is the pattern that first caught my eye when I heard about the book, and Angostura is also in my queue for the near future. Although I don't have much use for sweater vests - I'll make a use for them, I'm sure! I have a couple store bought ones from that one summer I had a proper office job, but they hardly fit my unemployed-hermit lifestyle at the moment. Also the dude thinks they are distinctly uncool for some reason. Which has never stopped me, since I'm fairly sure I've never been cool, but anyway. Sweater vests = cool or uncool?

Despite its lovely patterns, the book is actually more interesting to me as a reference for future sweaters in general. I like that in a knitting book - even if I only knit a couple of the sweaters, the other information in the book has lasting value. It will take many hours of perusal and consulting, I'm sure, but I hope to make better fitting sweaters because of it. I've already used the detailed measurement guide and print-out to fill in all my current measurements, though I'm still a bit confused about what some of them refer to - will have to consult with the internet hive-mind on this at some point.

I can't comment on the pattern writing yet, since I haven't tried to follow any of it. However, the first few times I flipped through the book, I got a bit confused by the schematics. Though they are very artistic, at a glance they imply that every pattern is knitted in pieces / flat. Which is definitely not the case. Maybe it's just me, but when I saw them that's the impression I got. However, I can also understand the benefit of showing things like set-in sleeves in the shape of a flat set-in sleeve, even if the sleeve itself is a seamless set-in one. Did that make any sense? Whatever. I get how it works now.

Yay, knitting!

further inspiration fodder

I received two sock books for Christmas. Fittingly, I'd knitted both of the givers socks for Christmas, but they couldn't have known that when they bought these books for me! I joked that now I have no choice but to become a hardcore sock knitter. While I'm not ready to cast on any more socks at the moment, I do find poring over these books very inspiring. 2010 was my year of committed sock knitting - maybe in 2011 I'll become hardcore? We'll see.

Think Outside the Sox is full of crazy. I mean that in a good way, but wheee. There are lots of patterns ranging from fairly standard to insane in terms of construction, techniques, and colours. At the risk of seeming dull, I'm currently more drawn to the fairly standard ones than the wild ones, although I love browsing and considering the insane ones. I'm most likely to knit the Interlochen Cables socks by Angela Sivers. Not sure why I like them so much, but the simple cables appeal to me. I also love Drip Candles by Kirsten Hall, which looks like a great pattern for using up leftovers.



I'd been eyeing Sock Innovation online for some time, so I was excited to look through the book. Some of the patterns are daunting, and I look forward to the challenge - I kind of want to make them all, but I'm not sure where to start. Currently Devon, Cauchy, and Rick are vying for top of the queue.

Also, in awkward fangirlishness... I got the book signed when Cookie A was in Edinburgh a few weeks ago.

omgsuchafangirlomg

Celebrity knitters, you guys. I can't remember the last time I got a book signed by its author, but there you go. The opportunity presented itself and I felt compelled. (Obviously, she was super nice. And while we're at it, I also chatted a bit with Anne Hanson, who is also super nice. Whahey.)

Generosity and inspiration

I'm in a bit of a rut knittingwise and otherwise right now, but at least on the knitting front I have some exciting things to bring me out of it.

Today I received a very generous gift as a "random act of kindness" from a raveler in the UK RAK group.



Alpaca yarn, destined to become several pairs of colourwork mittens over the next few months.



So soft and lovely. The mixture of neutrals and colours is perfect. I can't wait to cast-on.



I borrowed some stitch dictionaries from the library. I love browsing stitch patterns, even if I don't have any reason to use them. They are inspiring and engage my imagination.



How do you get your enthusiasm back?

resting the thumbs

"The covers are rugged hand-laid paper of rice chaff, bamboo tailings, free-range hemp, and crystalline glacial meltwater made by wizened artisans operating out of a mist-shrouded temple hewn from living volcanic rock on some island known only to aerobically gifted, Spandex-sheathed Left Coast travel bores. An impressionistic map of the South China Sea has been dashed across these covers by molecularly reconstructed Ming Dynasty calligraphers using brushes of combed unicorn mane dipped into ink made of grinding down charcoal slabs fashioned by blind stylite monks from hand-charred fragments of the True Cross."

~Neal Stephenson, Cryptonomicon

This doesn't really apply to the photo, in fact it doesn't apply in the least to my latest crafting endeavor, but I love the passage. Neal Stephenson once more blows my mind with a thoroughly absorbing, complex, and full novel. Augh, it's fun to read. I'm just over halfway through, and I am not anxious for it to end. It makes me wish I understood math, though maybe that would make it all less magical.

Anyway. While resting my hands which have reacted badly to the frantic knitting that accompanies warm weather and the home stretch of a wintery cardigan, I made a book. (No unicorns were harmed in the making.)



The covers are cuts of an Emily Carr print from an old calendar of Canadian paintings. The inside pages are kind of uneven and edged with pencil marks - cutting out lots of identical pages quickly turned into cutting out enough vaguely similar sized pages. It's roughly based on the chain stitch bound blank book from Alisa Golden's Creating Handmade Books (1998). I've made this kind of book a few times before: the binding is flexible and lays flat, so the format is good for journals.



The covers are a little ripply despite intensive action by the bone-folder and several days compression under a stack of songbooks, but I don't really mind. It fits with the texture of the painting.



I'm a little worried about the condition of my thumbs - they seem to get sore after only a few rows of sleeve knitting, lately - so finishing Basic Black will have to wait for a little while. But I'm so close! Just sleeve-cap shaping, button-band knitting, and other finishing details left.

Just in time for July, maybe. Weather being how it is, I may get some use out of it even then: the other day it hailed, and about half an hour later I saw my first hummingbird of the year.

New year, books of 2008

Three weeks of bliss and adventure ended today with the departure of my favourite person. If all went well he was on the flight that left for Heathrow an hour ago. No relaxing allowed, however; on the 7th I'm moving to London. Ontario, unfortunately. A few people I've spoken to have automatically assumed I was immintently UK-bound, but this is unfortunately not the case. Maybe in 2010.

I'm quite excited, though I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed since I have almost no time to breathe before I move, and I've spent the last three weeks ignoring most things having to do with grad school and moving and London, ON. But! Now! Go!

I haven't made any resolutions: in September I started pursuing my 101 in 1001, which I think does me for goals for the next couple of years. In addition, I'm trying to embrace a spirit of action, or something equally pretentious-sounding but really not so unreasonable when you think about it: if there's something I want to change about myself, there's no point waiting for the new year. Might as well get started now, right? Right.

In the spirit of new things and the old year, I will now list things I did last year, since this seems to be the thing to do now that it is January.
First up: Books I read in 2008

I counted longish readings that were published as free-standing documents as "books" so excuse me. I did not count books that I read only part of. *cough* most of Hums 4000? *sheepish*. Things I had read before are labeled as such, but I decided to count them again anyway. Plays and epic works of poetry etc are also considered "books" just for the sake of simplicity. Apologies to purists.

1. Life on the Refrigerator Door, Alice Kuipers
2. Gargantua and Pantagruel (books 1-3), Rabelais
3. Robinson Crusoe, Defoe
4. The Concept of the Political, Carl Schmitt
5. The Gift, Vladimir Nabokov
6. Letter Concerning Toleration, Locke
7. Into That Darkness, Gitta Sereny
8. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov (reread)
9. On Toleration, Voltaire
10. Rameau’s Nephew, Denis Diderot
11. Pale Fire, Vladimir Nabokov
12. Life is a Dream, Calderon
13. Le Cid, Corneille
14. The Human Condition, Hannah Arendt
15. Sofia Petrovna, Lydia Chukovskaya
16. The Sorrows of Young Werther, Goethe
17. Tartuffe, Moliere
18. Ada, Vladimir Nabokov
19. Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
20. If This is a Man (Survival in Auschwitz), Primo Levi
21. Modern Social Imaginaries, Charles Taylor
22. Fuente Ovejuna, Lope de Vega
23. Precious Damsels, Moliere
24. Phaedra, Racine
25. The Princess of Cleves, Madame de Lafayette
26. The Name of the Rose, Umberto Eco
27. Persians, Aeschylus
28. Agamemnon, Aeschylus (reread)
29. Oedipus the King, Sophocles (reread)
30. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
31. The Life of Pi, Yann Martel
32. Selected stories by Philip K. Dick
33. Philoctetes, Sophocles
34. Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson
35. The Bacchae, Euripides (reread)
36. Iphigenia at Aulis, Euripides
37. Orestes, Euripides
38. The Origin and Early Form of Greek Tragedy, Gerald Else
39. Making Money, Terry Pratchett
40. Don Quixote, Miguel de Cervantes
41. Friends, Lovers, Chocolate – Alexander McCall Smith
42. Emma, Jane Austen
43. On Beauty, Zadie Smith
44. Saturday, Ian McEwan
45. Quicksilver, Neal Stephenson
46. The Confusion, Neal Stephenson
47. The System of the World, Neal Stephenson

In total: 33 out of 47 books read were for university in some capacity. It seems like so long ago. I did have a fun couple of months reading only for myself since September, but upon reflection it seems I didn't read all that much.

This year I branched out a little past the classics. For the last few years I've spent my summers reading largely classic works that I feel I should read to fill in the gaps of my knowledge. This summer / fall I read a few more contemporary works, though I also tackled War and Peace, which I (hopefully unpretentiously) recommend because it is interesting as well as being famous and long. I count Neal Stephenson as this year's literary revelation for me. I've been meaning to read several books by him since high school, but I didn't get around to it until this year for whatever reason. It was better than I had hoped. I'm a convert. Next time I have some time open to myself I'll read Cryptonomicon.

So much for this year in books. Next, this year in movies?

Handspun, WHAT?

I recently made a pact with myself that I would not buy yarn until I get my interest for October. I do want to knit a sweater or two in the coming months, and I will need yarn for these projects, but I figured they can wait until November 1. Then, my mom acquired a huge sack of handspun from someone cleaning out their basement, and she gave it to me. Now I'm excited and terrified!



It's beautiful stuff. I'm not judge of handspun or anything really, but it's so neat to look at. It's a tad scratchy, but not too bad, and it is all undyed. It immediately piqued my sweater need and my kool-aid dyeing obsession. It is about DK weight, which is fairly convenient, since I've wanted to knit Basic Black for a while, but I think I need to do more dyeing experiments before I commit to a sweater's worth.



So I'm looking at small projects to dye for and knit before attempting a sweater. Red? Green? Blue? I bought some cherry and grape flavoured instant drink mix today, so first I'll aim for dark red. It turns out the grocery store I hit has a terrible selection, even of proper Kool-Aid, so I may make a foray into food-colouring sooner than I expected. (I hate vinegar, but hey, I'll deal). I've read some things about colour separation when attempting to dye purple, so we'll see how this goes. I don't mind unevenness.

I'll definitely have enough yarn for more than a sweater, but all this excitement is rendering my careful queuing topsyturvy! (As if I queue carefully. Whatever). I'm thinking I'll make Odessa since I have admired it from afar for ages. No beads, and I'm hoping the handspun will give it an interesting texture that won't overwhelm or be overwhelmed by the spirals. And hoping I can make it cover my ears.

Also, as a graduation gift my grandmother gave me The Knitter's Book of Yarn, which I had ogled while borrowing from the library. I think it will be an excellent resource to have, since I want to keep learning about yarn and fibre, and stop making stupid yarn choice mistakes. Plus, lots of fun patterns. (And plenty I'll never consider making, but you know. Either way).

zipping through?

When I made my 101 in 1001 list a few weeks ago, I immediately had second thoughts about several list items. Too easy, too hard to quantify... So far I am leaving it as is, but since I'm an unorthodox list maker, I'll allow myself the freedom to change it to a certain extent as I go.

I've completed a few in the last few days, which makes me think that they are too easy, or perhaps I'm just tackling the easy ones first.

8. Reorganize my book shelves so that all my books fit without spilling onto the floor. I just needed to do it. Not hard, just easy to avoid. (Now I need to find someplace to put all the non-book items I removed in order to fit the books in.) Yawn.

13. Read Emma, by Jane Austen, all the way to the end.

Until yesterday, Emma was the only one of Jane Austen's complete novels that I had not read. I had tried on several occasions and inexplicably failed. The first time was in grade 8. It was my first Austen attempt, which proceeded to turn me off the whole experience for a few years. I was a big reader then, but I think I couldn't get into the language at that stage. I don't know exactly what made me stop. The second time was a few years later, I believe after I'd read a few other Austen books. Again, not sure why I stopped.

After finishing it last night, I can't think what my problem was those other times. It is a delightful book. (Yes, I just said "delightful.") It easily ranks up near my favourite Austens, though to be fair I love them all. Other than Mansfield Park. That one bugs me.

Anyway, this time around I adored Emma. It's a brilliant example of Jane Austen's social comedy, which I love far more than the romantic aspects. All the petty hang-ups and ridiculous behaviour that seem so important at the beginning become far less important and all-encompassing towards the end. I recognize that reading from my perspective I'm bound to find this obsession with manners a little funny; we don't care about these things in quite so much detail these days, it seems to me. But even so, the way Austen picks at the ridiculousness of human relationships is biting and hilarius. Ah. Also, Miss Bates? That kind of caricature seems perfect.

Oh, and I'm this much closer to achieving #101. (Get a masters degree). I got into a masters program yesterday, accepted the offer, and must now start freaking out about finding a place to live in London. (Ontario. Unfortunately not UK this time).

some pictures from the last few days

I finally finished reading Don Quixote. Having started it in class, I always intended to finish it, but didn't have time during the time I was supposed to... But I finished it eventually, so it counts, right? I loved it. It is pure slapstick with an underlying current of intelligent satire. The first part is better than the second in my opinion; the second relies too much on Sancho Panza spewing inappropriate proverbs than anything else, still it is all enjoyable.

#1 - get a temporary job

As of yesterday, I have a job. I wrote up my 101 in 1001 list in no particular order, so I'm a little amused that the first item I've completed is actually #1 on the list. I'm also bemused and conflicted about this whole job thing, because the moment I lowered my standards I got a job. Ouch. We shall see if this job is positive in any way, other than that it pays and is situated down the street from a yarn shop. Ha. Low expectations, woo.

Despite my reluctant participation in the capitalist system (snort), I've found myself obsessing over money and finding a job lately. I think part of this comes from finishing school and finding out for sure that my degree in itself isn't helping me towards legitimate employment. I'm a bit embarassed. Another part of this is that I've started to want expensive things. (And inexpensive things). This isn't solely a ridiculous desire to participate in conspicuous consumption, since the expensive things I want are mostly related to moving to England or at least visiting, but I am finding a disturbing trend in my thoughts towards material goods. Ha, how pretentious. I'm not as much of a hippie snob as I sound by that statement. Yes, I want Things. What have I become? Hopefully I can use my shopper's-guilt to the advantage of my bank account and save more than I spend.

In other news, Eoin Colfer is writing a 6th Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book. I am slightly terrified at this prospect because Douglas Adams' original trilogy in five parts has pretty much shaped how I see the world. (No, really.) I've heard good things about Eoin Colfer, though I haven't read any of his books yet; maybe he's brilliant and it will all turn out well, but I can't help being nervous that it will all end badly. I guess all this worry is silly - I know I'll read the book and try to forget it if it's awful. A different addition doesn't necessarily reflect on the whole thing, and the original books will always be my favourites.

Sigh.

Today I am indulging my inner Charlie Chaplin. Good thing I like to laugh at myself. ;)

-chilli blew up in the microwave
-spilled chilli on myself
-while eating a nectarine, the pit went flying, leaving a nice sticky spot next to the chilli splotch.

Also, I went to the library 15 minutes before it opened, since I forget it doesn't open until 1 on Fridays. Less of an overtly slapstick moment, but still made me feel rather ridiculous. All in good fun, though!

At the library I got The Knitter's Book of Yarn, which I'd requested like every other knitter ever. I didn't expect to get it for another few months, but I guess everyone on the list is on vacation. Hurray, yarn books! The timing is perfect, since I've been thinking a lot about yarn for Liesl, which I hope to start in the next few weeks. While I've probably gained a little expertise through trial and error in terms of yarn choice over the last few years, I do have a few unfortunate yarn choice disasters (what was I THINKING?) of the sort I'd like to prevent in the future.

FO and FO?

I finished something in the last few days, finally. It wasn't knitting, but I've been working at it for about least a month. Maybe longer - I wasn't keeping track.



I bought this copy at a second-hand book sale a few years ago. It's an edition from the 40s with a nifty map comparing Napoleon's invasion of Russia to Hitler's invasion. I guess there was something on everyone's mind in the 40s. Understandably.



This seems to be on everyone's list of "Books I should read but will never get around to." Really, when I picked it up at the sale on a whim I didn't have a strong conviction I'd ever read it either. But then, why read it "eventually" when I could read it now? Or something. If only I was that motivated about some other things in my life. Right.

But it's not so scary: it's almost entirely comprehensible, unlike much of the reading I did this year. (Okay, I'll stop bitching about 4th year. Maybe.) As my boyfriend says, it's like Jane Austen but with battles. I'm not sure the comparison is perfect, but it's certainly apt in some respects. In any case, despite it's potentially intimidating length I liked it a lot. It's a very satisfying book, and now I know what the fuss is all about. I read Anna Karenina a few years ago, but I think I enjoyed War and Peace more.

OH AND. A knitting FO, too!


Excuse the horrible backlighting and the awkward position. Here are Alison's Ankle Socks. I've mused about the shortrow heel difficulty before. They do look pretty rough, but not bad for my second pair of socks ever. If I make them again I'll add more rows of stockinette between the ribbing and the heel; I used 6, but I suspect they will slip down in my shoes. I have more than half a skein of this yarn left, which is unexpected. I constantly misjudge these things - I figured I wouldn't have enough for a regular length pair of socks, but now I have enough left to add some fun stripes to something some day. Hmmm perhaps I'll learn jogless stripes one of these days.