Inky Goings On.

2 October, 2007, 11:15 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

My first day back at university, and I succeeded in contracting food poisoning from some Roquefort the manfriend kindly bought me from a French market stall. This also coincided with my first evening in my new job. Summoning all my reserves of willpower, I managed to hide the fact my insides were doing somersaults, and was able to last the evening by concentrating  oh-so-hard on enrolment forms and drinking enough water to empty the Lake District. If I could only summon such contration powers when I have my head stuck in John Donne, I’ll be a star pupil. The poor boyfriend felt stupidly guilty for buying said cheese, so I spent the night alternating between consoling him and demanding the house be made somehow warmer. Fun times.

But there has been knitting! O yes. Ester is plodding along,  and I am adoring the wool, Rowan Pure Aran, a wool I had never seen before it appeared in Hobbycraft of all places. It’s soft and springy and luscious.


This is my first none-ridiculously-straightforward cable pattern and I’m addicted. I’ve started perusing the Vogue stitchionaries in Borders with rabid eyes, but have thus far managed to restrain myself. I did, however end up buying Stefanie Japel’s Fitted Knits instead of The Broadview Anthology of 17th Century Prose and Poetry. Oops.

This, with any luck, will be manfriend’s winter scarf, since he abandoned his last one on a bus, dopey sod. It’s one of my favourite yarns, Sublime Cashmere Merino DK in a lovely Navy, and the idea was sold to him by explaining the SCIENCE behind it. Yes, air gets trapped in the little knobbly bits on the underside, which keeps you warm. You try selling scarves to Astrophysicists. The pattern’s Joelle Hoversen’s ‘Men’s Cashmere Scarf’ from Last Minute Knitted Gifts, and it’s curling. Damn.

And finally: after months and months of whinging that I’d love to knit things from IK, I realised that in order to do so, a subscription might help. What an idiot. SO I’ve finally ordered a year’s subscription and will sit by the letterbox eagerly awaiting the Autumn copy to fall into my greedy hands.


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