I have been so focused on coding the website that I am working on, that I didn’t even realize the all out assault—usually reserved for the Sunday New York Times Paper Boy—against my front door was staged by the Amazon.com delivery man (well, USPS, but Amazon sounds like more of an adventure, and besides, that is where I ordered the book from).
To my delight, Knits Men Want by Bruce Weinstein arrived as planned. I saw this book a few months ago, right after I got laid off, when I was Father’s Day shopping for my Dad at Book Shop Santa Cruz. Because I had just gotten laid off I didn’t want to spend money on anything that I didn’t absolutely need. However, as the months past, I couldn’t stop thinking about the great pieces in the book. My mother and I have this theory, that if you find something you like in a store, often times if you just carry it around long enough while you are still IN the store, by the time you are heading for the register you come to realize that you no longer *need* that object, and while you may still like it, you’ve moved on. This technique has saved my mother and I probably thousands of dollars, though, I am sure it has created thousands of go-back for the poor, unsuspecting retail staff. Sorry!
I have been carrying this book around in my mind since June, and haven’t been able to put it down. For just under $13 on Amazon, Ramon informed me it wasn’t a frivolous purchase, because it was patterns of things to create, not just an “object” to sit on the coffee table until I get tired of it. With the holidays approaching, I would like to knit something for Ramon for Christmas, even though I have just started Project Hallway, too. I think I can do it, or maybe I am just insane. However, knitting for men isn’t easy.
As I sat down just afternoon to begin pouring through the patterns before selecting yarn online—which I doubt I will order, because I prefer going to the local yarn shop and touching everything—I felt a strong connection with the opening paragraph of the Introduction:
“It’s 6 p.m. on a Thursday evening in early fall. My class at Sit-N-Knit, a spacious and welcoming yarn shop in Bloomingfield, Connecticut, is filling up—ten women have come to learn how to knit sweaters from the top down. Each one is knitting a sweater for herself, and each seems to have a sad story to tell about her experiences knitting for a man in her life.”
I think that this book and I are going to get along JUUUUUUUST fine! I have hope!
Also on the list for tonight are finalizing the pattern for the pink raglan, and finishing the front piece … The front and the back are more than half-way done. I just needed to sit and do the math to try to figure out the stitches for the raglan shape. I think I will throw together a muslin really quickly to make sure that it is, in fact, going to work.
… Speaking of math … I went to the class last night and dropped it immediately when I got home. I have already sold the text book via Amazon—oh how I love Amazon—and shipped it out. The professor didn’t speak English very well, and had a very thick accent. I could feel the frustration in my rising up and boiling over during the 3 hour period I was in class. Math scares me, almost as much as the dentist. I’d like to approach it in a friendly, open way, and this does not include a teacher that I simply can’t understand. I cannot bare the thought of coming home every Monday for the next 16 weeks looking to pick a fight because I can’t hold back the anger of math. Oh well, maybe next semester.