As I enter the home stretch, I keep running across them as I flip through looking for the bits and pieces to be used in finished drawings.
Here's a representative sample:
- Miles Topeka to Kansas state fair?
- Where do breasts go?
- Length and curve of blade? Bloody?
- Number of panes in Shetland window?
- Lion? Unicorn?
- Bird and squirrel can be friends?
- Which fricking e has accent and is grave or aigu?
- Fat baby pajamas?
- Wolf toes?
- Would she say this to him like that?
- Mausoleum door locks?
- Ask Leigh how large ballerina ass?
- Ancient sheep face hair?
- Table can support bear? Two bears?
- How big should balls be?
Your encouragement in the comments to the last post is much appreciated. Please don't think I'm whining–the chance to publish a book is a blessing, and my worst day as a cartoonist is better than my best day trying not to smack rock-stupid university alumni across the face.
While the pen's busy the needles are idle, aside from occasional rounds on the second Primavera sock. I'm almost to the toe, and still loving the pattern. I expect to finish book and sock almost simultaneously.
I have promised myself that once the final packet of drawings flies off to Colorado, I may begin Sharon Miller's Wedding Ring Shawl. (Yes, I bought the pattern before it sold out. Nyah, nyah, nyah.) Mine will be worked in a handsome, red Merino laceweight. Of course, it's not as fine as the cobwebby Tinkerbell dental floss Mrs Miller recommends; so if I actually reach journey's end, the finished shawl won't slip through a wedding ring.
I wonder if that means I'd have to call it something else? If you call it a wedding ring shawl when it won't actually fit through a ring, does the Shetland lace cartel send goons to your apartment to shoot out your kneecaps?
Those chicks in Heirloom Knitting look pretty tough. I wouldn't put it past them.
* Internet fun fact: If you Google "Interweave Itches," the first result is my book.