Hello, 911?

You better send somebody over here because I am ON FIRE.


Finished mittens. Finished Finnish mittens. (That is, for anybody counting – FOUR finished items in TWO days. I do not care to discuss how long it took to get to this place…it harshes on my mellow. Mercury must have come out of retrograde or something. )


A shot of them with a reluctant Amanda, just one of the family members I forced to wear these this morning before breakfast. (They don’t fit Joe.) I just can’t stop admiring these. I love them. I adore them. They are so beautiful that I want to go out into the street and make strangers admire them.


I even think the little pile of ends from the weaving in is art.


Many, many thanks to Susanna for the kit (She’s a goddess. Everything anywhere near her is beautiful. I have no idea where she found it, the clever knitter.) This round of finishing stuff up has left me with (comparatively) empty needles, a buzz of springtime energy and rather than investing that into something useful like, I dunno…spring cleaning? I’m going to go toss the Stash. Suggestions?

(PS. If you ever decide to do some research on alternative fleece washing methods…never, ever do an internet search on “dirty sheep”. It is not humanity’s finest hour.)

Done, done and done

I’ve finally finished all the finishing, and the Tink’s sweaters are done.


Two sweaters, knit from the “Voss” pattern in this book, using Dale of Norway “Baby Ull”. Great pattern. (Never knitting it again as along as I live. )

I love them. I feel like I churned out a couple of heirlooms, and in an unusual and personal triumph, I churned them out before the babies in question grew too big to use them for anything but sippy cup coasters. These sweaters are for The Tinks, knit by proxy for Lene’s twin niece and nephew. The Tinks have grown almost faster than I can knit. See them here, here and here for the idea of this challenge.


For the record, I think that the next time I knit for a set of twins (and there’s another set headed my way) that I’m going to make them each something different. This made for beautiful, but monotonous knitting. “Second sweater syndrome” has even more powerful mojo than “second sock syndrome” . (I have to say that the fourth sleeve called for a fortitude of spirit that I don’t want to ever summon again. The fourth buttonband was something that Dante could have written about. )

A shot for those of you who like to see the insides of sweaters….(that’s all of you, isn’t it?)


After I finished those, I went to Megan’s concert at Massey Hall


Watched Meg do an awesome job. (“Don’t cry for me Argentina” was my personal favourite)


and finished these.


(Meilenweit Mega Boot Stretch – colour 703 -one skein, my standard sock recipe.)

How ’bout that? Three finished things in one day. Don’t get used to it.

Succession of busy somethings

1. Guess who turns six today?


Everybody’s favourite blog fodder Henry James (Hank to his friends) is a whopping six year old today. There was cake, and there were presents.


(Hank is seen here playing with the CD player and audio books that I got him for a present. He is not playing with the Gameboy. I consider this, right or wrong, a personal victory.) Congratulations to my sister Erin for keeping him alive for this long.

2. A big happy birthday to Kamilah, our niece and daughter of Kelly and Ben (MSF Ben). Kamilah, who is lovely, charming, cooperative and clear-thinking, becomes an official teenager today – turning 13. I don’t seem to have a picture of her, so you’ll have to trust me that she’s a beauty. (That’s a lie. I have several, but she is younger and not 13 in any of them, and if I had gone to all the trouble of growing up to be a teenager, then I wouldn’t want some dorky knitter Aunt posting lame pictures of me as a mere child all over the internet.) I’ll get a good one.

3. I turned this washed fleece


into this carded fleece.


I know that’s not quite spinning for Tuesdays, but you can’t spin uncarded wool, so I feel like it still counts.

4. Progress on the Tinks sweaters remains strong. I bought buttons.


I knit on the subway. (I thought that Subway Knitter might like that one.)


5. I knit while Amanda did this.


That’s a concert with the youth orchestra she’s in. I find going to the kids stuff really reassuring. Teenagers are out there in the world and I don’t like it. I like having them here where I know that they are safe. I wonder what they do when they aren’t here…but concerts….concerts make me feel like things are going to be ok. You look at your kid, doing something complex and clever like playing the violin and making real music and you think “Wow. My kid probably doesn’t have a smack habit I don’t know about.”

6. I checked my local Chapters for the new book. It wasn’t there. I know it’s profoundly pathetic to hunt your own book in the wild, but I can’t help it. I never feel like it’s real until I see it in a bookstore.

7. I drew a name for the copy of Mason-Dixon Knitting. Out of all the broke knitters who emailed me I chose a name at random, and the book will be going to live with Ivy W. Congratulations!

Tomorrow, finished Tinks! (I hope. Shouldn’t have said anything. It’ll all go wrong now.)

Dear Ann and Kay

I been sitting here for a good long time with your new book, in fact, as soon as it arrived, I assumed the position. It looks like this.


Your book, a cup of coffee (or seven) a sock in progress (or three) and several hours (or days) of my life that I will never get back and don’t care about. It was worth it. I think it’s appropriate that I get around to talking about this book on it’s official birthday publication date. See that? There was a reason that the computer ate my post yesterday. (I’m almost over that.) I know everyone will want to send you their congratulations. I want you to know too, that your book shares it’s Birthday with Joes’ sister Katie, who is charming and beautiful and unbearably clever and living in Spain and she’s so wonderful that you would hate her except for she’s brilliantly, perfectly human and decent. It’s an auspicious day. If your book does half as well as Katie does, you’ll be thrilled to bits.

This book, with apologies to Forrest Gumps‘ mother, is like a box of chocolates. You can open it at any page and have no idea what you’re going to get, but know it will be good. When I first got it I was so excited that I phoned a friend to tell them about it (I actually may have told everyone I know about it. I’m so proud of you two.) and I tried to explain what it was like. “Is it a book of patterns?” she asked. “Yes, well, no…well…not just patterns.”

There are patterns. There are rugs and blankets and page after page of beautiful things.

Things like this..


and this…


and this…


and I know, my dear Ann and Kay..I know what people are going to think when they see the genius that is these simple, elegant patterns. (I know because I said it myself.) They are going to say “well now. A linen hand towel. Knitting on jean jackets. Log cabin blankie-o-rama. I could have thought of that.” and it’s true, but you know what? They didn’t think of it. I didn’t. You did. (That’s because you understand that giving people tools, a lot of beautiful pictures and a decent shove is going to yield more beautiful knitting that any of us can dream of. ) The patterns may be simple, but they have a weird hoodoo, becoming even more engaging and inviting possibility the longer you look at them. Good for beginners, and a neat inspiration to the experienced.

The sections on knitting with your kids were slipped surreptitiously to my own daughters, and I have to tell you that Meg looked at that pinwheel garter stitch rug (which may be a shawl, knit in different yarn) and conceded (and I would remind you that she is 14 and you are not, and this means that very little you are capable of is acceptable to her on matters of principle) that it was (and I quote)…”Cool”.

I told my friend on the phone that it wasn’t just patterns, that it was…it was… (Note to self: Consider reading your friends the very informative subtitle of the book that says the book has “Stories, Patterns, Advice, Opinions, Questions, Answers, jokes and Pictures. It will save you time.) it was, writing about knitting. “Oh” she said. “Like you do, essays and stories.” “No” not like that. It’s got patterns, but it’s not really a pattern book. It’s got stories, but it’s not a book of essays, it tells you how to do stuff, but it’s not a how-to book…it’s…like a box of chocolates. Something good every time, but no way to know what it’s going to be. (Unless you’re going to lick the bottoms off of all of the chocolates in the box and put back all the ones that aren’t an orange creme, a trick my brother used to play when he was little.)

The book is charming, and I have to tell you that you two got me to cast on a dishcloth.


See, you wrote so eloquently about their usefulness and allure that I remembered that I like knitting the occasional square of cotton love. I was moved. That’s right…moved, by the 450 words you wrote in their defense. People can say what they like. Washrags are cool (though mines a facecloth) and the three of us will take on anyone who says otherwise.

Like a box of fine chocolates, this book is an indulgence, (I may only feel that way only because Joe and earn our livings engaging in the arts and are therefore frequently set upon by a spontaneous and unpredictable income…well, that and I’m sort of cheap frugal) and is priced like one. It’s not expensive by yarn standards, and not expensive considering that it’s a very beautiful hardcover that would not be amiss on a coffee table…and certainly not expensive when you consider that it’s an inspiring conversation and a lovely visit with the two authors. You guys did a good job. I love the book more each time I open it.

The good news is that I’m pretty darned sure that the book isn’t going to humiliate you both so that you have to run away and change your names while you take up making only red bookends of plastic canvas, collecting small statues of dogs dressed as leprechauns and swearing that you’ve never knit a stitch in your lives. (That’s really what you were afraid of…right?) Fear not.

Fondly, as ever,


PS. I happen to have an extra copy of Mason-Dixon Knitting, so I’m going to share the fun of owning it. I’d like to give it to somebody who’s itching to own it but would have to save up. If that’s you, send an email to me at stephanie AT yarnharlot DOT ca with the subject line “I’m broke” and I’ll choose from among you. Good luck!

PS again…Kelli-the-new-wonder-publicist added Pittsburgh to the tour schedule.

It had to happen.

I wrote something great, put all the links in. Made it really beautiful and then, right out of the blue, Ecto crashed, taking the whole blog post with it.

I am furious. I have no right to be furious, because if I had been even a little bit smart I would have been hitting “save” from time to time and then, when the software decided to give me a little smack, I could have mocked it and it’s attempt to thwart me. “Ha!” I would have exclaimed. I would have smirked smugly and taunted the laptop. I would have screeched “Nice try, you pixel driven ingrate of a pig-dog! You do not vex me today!” and made wild threats about unplugging it’s power-supply and taking away the extra-fancy battery and seeing how it liked losing something without any warning…all this as I resurrected the post and made a little note on my white-board about the time that Ecto tried to get me and failed, because I was too smart. Score, Stephanie 1, Ecto NOTHING.

That’s what I would have written.

If, you know. I was smart.

Now do it again

Tink sweater #1 is finished. (But unblocked)


Dudes, I am so happy. I admit that it still needs buttons. (I’m looking for little pewter ones like this, except I’d like to find them locally, just for the sake of speed. You know me. Instant gratification takes too long.) There’s gotta be one or two of you observant enough to notice that in the pictures of this sweater from the other day there was lime green, even though there’s none to be seen on the finished sweater. It’s a knitters trick. I was enchanted by the lime and really wanted to use it, but thought it was such a bold colour that the Tinks mum might not feel the same way. (What? Doesn’t everybody want lime green stripes on their traditional norwegian baby sweater?) I couldn’t give it up though, so check out the inside.


I love that the sweater has a little surprise inside. The lime green is the facings that cover the raw edges of the cut steeks. This entertains me to absolutely no end. (Admittedly, I am easily entertained.)

I’d feel even more pleased with myself, except for the other twins sweater looks like this…


and the twins look like this. I need to knit faster. Much faster.

Book Review the first

This is Fiona’s new book


Inspired Cable Knits: 20 creative designs for making sweaters and accessories. (You guys know that I always link to Amazon because it’s easy and fast, but I’d encourage you to support your local independent bookseller or yarn shop, if you have one.)

I feel like I should post a bit of a disclaimer before I wax poetic about the brilliance of this book. Some of you will know that Fiona Ellis lives here in Toronto, and some of you will also know that she’s also a friend of mine. I know that makes all of the wonderful things I’m about to say about her book sort of suspect, I mean… if a friend of mine had written a bad book, I’d be in a fine mess. I thought a lot about what exactly I would say if her book sucked. (I didn’t really think that it would, what with Fiona having such a good track record with knitwear design, but you never know. She could have landed a psychotic editor or a nasty photographer. All things are possible. ) I lived in fear of this book arriving and me being in the position of having to say something about it and needing to be honest, because I wouldn’t want a knitter to waste sacred yarn money on a bad book, but at the same time, not wanting to hurt Fiona’s feelings. I imagined myself avoiding her calls and telling her that I forgot to review it when she finally pinned me down. You can only imagine my relief when the book appeared and was not only brilliant, but beautiful.

Check this.


Nice eh? It’s a beautiful sweater called “Gathering Intentions” and it’s pretty close to the top of my What I’ll Knit Next list. The book is full of sweaters designed with inspiration drawn from the ideas of Change, Nature, Energy and Time. There’s knitting resembling bark, sound waves, sand dunes, yoga poses….this sweater is based on the idea of an intention. The idea that you have that will eventually become an action. (Fiona writes about this more beautifully than I do.) Thus the sweater and the cables spring up from the intention…


This beautiful i-cord accent that leads the cables out into three dimensions. Beautiful. (I admit that when I knit this I’m likely going to leave off the i-cord at the wrists. I’m completely the dork who’s going to have those dunked in a cup of coffee, dragged through the sink or slammed in a car door 10 minutes after I put it on. I’m like that. Perhaps you are more graceful.)

Fiona’s a smart cookie too…(though that’s likely been proven just by designing that…) the sweater comes in sizes that range from a 91.5cm/ 36 inch bust all the way to a 132cm / 52 inch bust. Something for everybody, which is grand, because this book is full of the classic, durable sweater shapes that look marvelous on most body types.

If sweaters aren’t your bag, or you’re new to cables and are feeling like cabling your way through a sleeve cap might not be the place to start, there’s wonderful, simple pieces to begin with. A hat and scarf set, a wrap (the wrap is a thing of wonder), a yoga bag, pillows…even a wee baby sweater to cut your teeth on. There’s sweaters for men too, often woefully neglected in knit-design.

My only complaint was also mentioned by Susan C. yesterday in the comments. It’s that the patterns call for specific amounts of specific yarns (easy to get, very accessible yarns) but don’t list the specific amount of yardage required for each sweater. (So it says 5 skeins of yarn X, vs 750 yards.) Now if you’re like me, the odds that you’re going to knit all of these sweaters in the yarn that Fiona suggests (even though her suggestions are very good) is about zip. I’m going to go stash diving, or pick something on sale, or substitute a yarn that comes in colours more to my taste, whatever my taste is that moment. This means that I have to do a little homework to find out the yardage. Google the yarn she suggests, find the yardage per ball…multiply. (That sounds like math. I hate math.) Still, it’s a problem easily solved in about 2 minutes, so I don’t see it as a barrier. Especially when the charts are like this.


Nice eh? Clear, big, easy to read. Perfect. (If you are anti-chart, I don’t understand you at all, but Fiona does. Each chart is accompanied by written out row by row instruction so you can pick your preference.) Also in the book is really nice instructions on how to work cables, short rows, place markers, make increases. One stop shopping.

This sweater (I believe I may eventually knit everything from this book) calls my name while I sleep.


I imagine myself very elegant in this, and in my dreams, it makes me look very tall and thin while lending my frizzy bedraggled curls a celtic flair. The sweater is just that good.

I really think that this book is a classic work, and deserves to be on pretty much every knitters bookshelf if they like cables, are thinking about liking cables or sometimes think about cables a little bit. It’s downright inspiring. (That might have something to do with the title.)

I ran out of time to do Ann and Kay’s book today, but I’ll get there, don’t worry.

Random Thursday

I know I usually do random Wednesdays, but I lost track of the days of the week again am being really random by doing Thursday.

1. As many of you would know already, Mr. Etherknitter (Husband of our lovely Etherknitter) was involved in a dreadful ski accident a little while ago. He’s ok now, though stranded abed, and today is his birthday. If you are so inclined, you can inundate him by dropping off a comment here. I bet it would cheer them both.

2. I finished the new socks…and I think that they are the perfect antidote to the drab greyness of Toronto this time of year.


These are Grumperina’s famous Jaywalker pattern (I had to do it at least once) knit from Vesper Sock Yarn in the “Crew” colourway, modeled by Meg, who’d like to point out how well she thinks they go with her new shoes.


You may use your imagination to guess what else her spectacularly 14 year old fashion sense will allow her to wear. Some days I’d like to get back the button she had when she was three that said “I dressed myself today”.

As reported by so many, the pattern is tons of fun, though the patterning on the leg is sort of inelastic, so if I were knitting them for anyone without really slender legs and feet I would have gone up a size, regardless of foot length. It should also be noted that I didn’t have the pattern with me when the time came for the toes, so I did my own thing.

3. That Laurie left a comment yesterday, and she makes some darned good points.

First, what everyone else has said about the math involved here — you have calculated to your own detriment AND not counted the considerable labor of washing and carding — also part of spinning (as is PLYING, come to think of it!).

Second, you have also written 2-3 (4?) books in this period of time — blame it on book tours and making us happy.

Third — and this one is key — you need to start knitting the sweater! Nothing inspires power spinning so much as the need for more yarn when the sweater is underway. The knitting creates the love of the yarn which begats more yarn.

The one problem with your readers’ advice about the vest is that I bet you are planning to DESIGN your Joe’s Gansey, possibly using Beth Reinsel-Brown’s delightful book? Even so, you could start.

After all, your working gauge in gansey knitting MIGHT mean you need less yarn.

You can always count on That Laurie for some clear thinking.

First, Yeah. I didn’t add the washing, carding and plying time, though it’s true…those add considerable time to the effort. I think I probably spend as much time washing and carding as I do spinning, which is mostly due to my own obsessive techniques for those activities.

Second, yeah. Right Laurie. (This is why I love Laurie, she’s always willing to supply me with a decent rationalization) It’s because of the books and the tour. Uh-huh. I’ll take the heat on this one. It’ll because it turns out that THINKING about spinning gansey wool while you knit, isn’t the same as sitting at the wheel SPINNING gansey wool and it turns out that I can’t make yarn with the power of my mind and I’m actually going to have to commit to working on it if I want to start making progress.

Third, Start knitting the sweater? This is an interesting idea. I am planning on designing the sweater myself, using this book and this one. My worry, and perhaps it is misguided, as so many of my worries are…is that this yarn is being spun over such a long period of time that I’m concerned (guaranteed, actually) that the yarn I’m producing can’t be consistent. I’m worried that I’ll start knitting with the stuff I’ve already spun, and end up with sleeves two different sizes or something. My common sense tells me that if I were to knit the gansey from two alternating balls throughout (one old, one new, a couple of rows with each one) that maybe I could disguise the fact that I’m about as consistent with my spinning as Elizabeth Taylor is with her husbands.

Thoughts from experienced sweater -spinning knitters? Is there another way? Should I care?

4. I put the new tour page stuff up. There’s some stops listed there, starting a staggering two weeks from today. There will be way more added as we welcome Kelli-the-new-wonder-publicist, who replaces Sarah in their attempts to move me around the world in a way that lets me see as much yarn as possible, meet all of my imaginary friends, go to yarn parties, er…publicize the book? Yeah. That’s it. Who’s coming?

5. Look what I got!


That’s Mason-Dixon Knitting, from you know who, and Inspired Cable Knits, from Fiona Ellis. Both beautiful. Both to be reviewed. Likely tomorrow.

6. I washed fleece for the sweater even though it was Wednesday.

Send the stashweasels

I’m still here. Haven’t killed any teenagers or bought a ticket to Belize. Thanks for the sympathy, support and reassurances that the do grow up and that I won’t be left a shattered shell of a woman at the end of it. Turns out that I didn’t feel nearly so doomed once I got sitting at the spinning wheel. For the gratification of the Gansey brigade, who seem to doubt that all of this washing, carding and spinning will ever add up to a sweater….


It turns out that I deserve every snide stashweasel comment Rams and her team have ever sent my way. This is the total effort thus far. (I would rather not discuss that I was so shocked by this that I trashed my own stash looking for the rest.)It’s a mere seven (7) skeins of three ply yarn, about a dk weight, with each skein coming in at about 150m. That means that since I started this June 17th 2004…um…a while ago, I’ve managed to turn out about 1050m of yarn. (In my defense it IS three ply, which means that I have spun three times that.) I estimate that it will take about 1800m to make a sweater for Joe, so I’ll just nip off and lie in the road now. I did a little math to get the facts.

92 Tuesdays (Tuesdays are for spinning) have passed since I began.

I have 1050m of yarn.

1050 divided by 92 = 11.41

I am producing roughly (I’m going to round up here, not that it helps much) 11 1/2 metres of yarn per week. Considering that I need 800 more metres, I should be done in 69 weeks.

Hold me.

I always hated buttonbands.

It’s not all sunshine and roses everyday at Chez Harlot, and yesterday (which should really have been a triumphant day, a brilliant return to all things adult and wage earning) I was felled by an uncharacteristic headache and the rigours of parenting teen daughters, neither or which has much to recommend it. I did the only thing I could do, I tried to keep my cool, I fussed with the tinks sweaters, and at some point the parallels between this phase of parenting and this phase of sweaters hit me.


I have decided that I liked being a mother better when I was in charge and everything was simple. Back when all I had to do to be quite sure I was doing it right was to nurse them, read them books and keep them from sticking forks into electrical sockets. Bonus points for going to the park and making homemade muffins with grated carrots in them. The rules were very clear.

Ditto the body of the sweaters…cast on the right number of stitches, check for gauge, follow the chart. Keep an eye out for glaring mistakes, fix them as best as you can and keep going. I’m not going to say that this phase of sweater and child were easy, (I’m glossing over the part where you do this on 2 hours of sleep or breathe your way through the 43rd tantrum of the day or run out of yarn mid sleeve. ) but both parenting and sweater knitting are, at this phase, about endurance and patience.

Then, suddenly…the whole thing changes. Suddenly, both knitting a sweater and parenting are a lot harder. Right out of the blue, without a word of warning (except perhaps the twisted screams of every single person who has ever parented a teenager since the dawn of time) Suddenly, this phase is about all kinds of scary, scary stuff. The finishing.


All of a sudden you’re doing things that are serious. Really serious. Cutting steeks. Signing permission slips to go to New York. Things that can’t be taken back if you screw them up and misjudge. There’s no fixing a sleeve steek you cut 3cm too long, and I don’t know how I would forgive myself if my kid wound up in a dangerous place because I botched the situation. Suddenly, the practice of both activities is about nerve, judgment and enormous leaps of faith. A firm inner belief that your child is a decent person with some sense, and an equivalent belief that steeks don’t unravel into a heap of crap when you take scissors to them.


Then, before you’ve recovered from the shock of it all, there’s a new thing. The sweater/kid finishing is a different thing again. Now you’re picking up stitches, knitting facings to cover raw edges, massaging a basically good sweater into a great sweater by working on the details.

This is not simple. You can’t just haul off and knit a button band, any more than you can rip off an arbitrary curfew for your teen. Button bands need to be just so. Too long and they gape, too short and they pull inward. There’s a finesse here. A really great sweater can be ruined with crappy finishing. Attention to detail is everything, and the insides matter as much as the outsides.


Same with the daughters. Too much freedom and they could wind up in a situation that they don’t have the experience to manage. Too little freedom and I run the risk of not allowing them to gain more experience, or worse…I take a basically good kid and force them to behave badly to untie themselves from my wicked tight apron strings.

The word of the day, the word of everyday, is “negotiation”. You can’t just haul off and pick up the neckband. You need to read the gauge, you need to think things over. You need to decide how much each individual stitch matters and pace yourself. You can’t get all hung up on one itty bitty stitch when the other 99 are perfect.

This part of the sweater isn’t about endurance. It’s about fussing.


In the end nothing is ever going to be absolutely 100% perfect. Not kids, not sweaters, not parents. You just do your level best with your goal in mind, the kind of thing you would like to end up with. There’s no going back to the perfectly clear chart. No instructions good enough, and the time when you knew if everything was ok is gone. You’re not going to know for sure if you were right about the button bands until the sweater comes off the needles and graduates from University and becomes an adult and makes great decisions, and until then you just can’t take it personally when the sweater tells you that you’re ruining it’s life with your overbearing knitting and maybe, just maybe you should “chill out” while you finish the sweater and trust that the sweater doesn’t really hate everything about you and all that you hold dear and that buying the sweater a cellphone so you can call it whenever you want and bug it while it’s out doing absolutely nothing wrong while you worry that all of that time that you breastfed the sweater counted for absolutely nothing and hope, quietly and with as much dignity is left to you, that the sweater really doesn’t think that you are a horrible person just because you won’t let it date skanky skeins of polyester and break all of the rules that you set up just to avoid worrying about the sweater while you think about what you did when you were a teenager and hope that nobody has figured out any of that stuff and, and…

Sorry. I think I’ll go spin now. No buttonbands.

A room of my own.

Except it’s not really my own, and it’s not really a room, and I’ve sort of finished it too late to keep me sane during the March Break, and it’s not really finished since all the trim needs to be done….but let’s put that aside.

There used to be this crappy mudporch off the back of my house. A really crappy dark room with a cement floor and mice condominiums built in the walls and there was this strange little 3/4 size door that led out to the side of the house and the backyard. It’s actually the only way to the backyard. Anyone who saw it could testify that it was awful. It was where we kept tools and the recycling. In the meantime, I was trying to write books and think clearly (and get the kids and Joe to try not to interrupt me) with my office in …well. ON the dining room table. I had to move my stuff every time we ate a meal there. One day, I got fed up with, I don’t know what. Likely one of the kids, (I have a knack for directing hostility into home renovation) and my buddy Sinead and I went into the back room and ripped the crap out of it.


That’s the corner that today looks like…


This! My office. Well. That 1.5m by 3m is my office. The rest is still storage space. Much better storage space, I grant you.


Want a tour?


I even put some stuff in the drawer.


It’s still a backroom. It’s still small and a little crappy, but it’s mine.

It made me so happy I started a new sock.


Happy St. Patricks day. Pass the Guinness. I’ll be in my office.