A Change of Scene

I knew this was going to happen.

There's a Fibertarians meeting tonight at the apartment–specifically, I believe, a gathering of the Committee to Elect Dolores Van Hoofen–and it was made clear early this morning that my presence would be considered de trop.

It's okay, really. I needed some fresh air and a change of scene. The view from my desk has been nothing but gloom for more than a week. Of course, from my seat in the coffee shop I'm still looking at snow falling horizontally, but at least it's different snow. Quite a bit of it, too. I don't know that it counts as a blizzard, but it's enough to have made the stroll over put me in mind of Doctor Zhivago. If only I'd thought to put a balalaika playlist on my iPod.

This is a maiden voyage for the new laptop from which I write. I decided at last to buy one so that when I'm traveling I can still write (I'm working, Anne! I'm working!) and keep up with business. And let me tell you, by the way, that there's nothing like investing in a gut-punchingly expensive piece of computer equipment to make a guy feel the need to produce.

Of course, the downside is that I have now officially become one of Those People. I used to sit in this very chair and knit while everyone around me worked, or pretended to. I felt quite smug being the sole unplugged person in the room.

Not that I haven't brought knitting with me. I have. Here it is.



It's Tom's watch cap. Still not much to look at in a photograph, I know, but in person it's become a delightfully squishy piece of fabric to touch.

My thanks to all of you who offered advice on sources of instruction for working the stitch (Prime Rib, aka brioche) in the round. As it happens, I'd settled on working the hat flat after swatching both methods. Circular brioche wasn't difficult; I have excellent instructions thanks to a Meg Swansen handout from Knitting Camp. It came down to personal taste. For me, brioche in the round just didn't have the same carefree, same-every-row appeal.

As for the seaming, I confess (forgive me, Elizabeth) that I don't mind it. The more seams I work, the more I enjoy them. The process is almost magical, much like Kitchener stitch. You have two edges, and then, Presto! You have no edges. It thrills me. When I finished sewing up Abigail's kimono I felt like taking a bow. And as there was nobody watching me, I did.

I admit it also intrigues me to be working ribbing, real ribbing that snaps back with a satisfying boing, entirely without purl stitches. When I have finished the hat, I shall doff it in memory of the forgotten knitter who invented this stuff.

On the subject of hats and Zimmermann/Swansen genius, did you know Meg's doing knit-alongs over at the Schoolhouse Press Web site? She started with a Christmas stocking, and right now there's a two-parter devoted to a conch shell hat. Check it out. A person can never have too much Meg.