Yesterday, instead of blogging (my apologies) I got a lot done.
1. I finished this very, very beautiful little baby sweater from the supermerino.
Then I did a little dance in the bedroom while it was blocking because for once in my knitting life something happened almost exactly the way that I thought it would with absolutely no difficulty, upset or panic. I just knit a little sweater. The yarn even puddled pink in two matching spots on the front. Brilliant. The pattern was charming (The “Baby Surprise” in EZ’s Knitting Workshop). It took three skeins of yarn, with this much left over.
(I’m thinking about sitting with my feet in a bucket of water so that I can’t be forced to spontaneously combust as punishment for enjoying this so much. The sweater has no buttons because I can only imagine that the full complement of disaster that should have plagued the sweater will be exacted upon five little pink buttons.)
2. I went to the Eaton Centre in a desperate attempt to procure a pair of pants that I can wear when I leave for the Ottawa part of the tour tomorrow. (Oh…wait, the Ottawa details are updated on the Book Tour page, link also now conveniently located on the sidebar. Also currently cracking myself up that Harlot On Tour spells out HOT. Man that’s funny if you are wearing old yoga pants and a tee shirt with a rip in it.)
I went, with my tenacious friend Sinead, to every single womens wear clothing store in the entire Mall (and it’s a big mall) desperately tried on every pair of pants that there was in every store (well, almost) only to discover a few things. Firstly, I am still quite short, and secondly….my arse is wrong.
My arse being somehow an enigma of surprising tenacity comes as a bit of a shock to me, considering that it appears of normal size and shape, at least as viewed by me twisting round to look at it. Sinead assures me (though I was sort of undone by then, and she might not have wanted to be completely honest, lest I go right batty in a “Sears”) that my arse also seems well within the scope of normal. It is perplexing then, that I would not be able to get it either into a pair of pants, or (on the other side of the coin) have it appear completely absent. I am ashamed to admit that driven to desperation and panic by the fact that I am leaving for Ottawa tomorrow morning and will be (hopefully….) be meeting any of you in the area, plus going on TV (this looms in front of me like a black, swirling wall of petrifying panic) and have only one crappy pair of jeans and the aforementioned ratty yoga pants, I did something that was most unlike me.
I walked into the Gap and told the salesgirl that I wanted (and I quote) “Those pants that Sarah Jessica Parker is wearing in the commercials.” Sarah didn’t let me down, and while I do not labour under the delusion that my arse comes anywhere close to her well sculpted and professionally trained one, (which was unceremoniously dumped by The Gap, despite the campaign having worked on me) the pants are pretty much OK. I still have to hem about six inches off the bottom (thus defeating the elegant “flared leg”) but I will be wearing real pants in Ottawa, a fact that should reassure the publicity people to no end.
3. I tried to absorb the “remote blogging technology” that Ken has installed on the laptop he’s loaned me. Should I be able to execute it successfully, the blog will march on unfettered (except by my incompetence) no matter where I am in the world.
I’m going to a coffeeshop down the street that has some magic called “wireless access” this afternoon (after I hem my pants) to test it. My hopes are high.
Without further ado, more presents!
Birdsong (wouldn’t you love to be called Birdsong? Can you imagine what a lovely baby she must have been to be called “Birdsong”?) has beautiful needles and a fab mousepad
that Maggi T. will be using.
Abigail (who is generous to a fault) will be shipping this beautiful lot of Peace fleece
to Jane – the one I emailed. (Lucky knitter. Peace fleece is nice stuff)
More later….assuming I can blog from a coffee shop. See you in Ottawa! (Bring your knitting, we’ll have a lovely time.)