Well, I've been busy. Not as much with knitting as I'd like, although at least some of my spare time has gone into putting together a project notebook (because I am, at best, somewhat anal). I etched the metal plaque for the cover last week, at a friend's -we literally dropped acid on her carpet- using an art nouveau pattern ripped straight from an overpriced pillow. Eventually I'll get my hands on a drill and attach the thing to the black binder. Might take awhile. I'm filing all my projects from the start of the year onwards in the binder (my old project notes were housed in a ratty lined paper relic from my freshman year).
Yes, because I've felt ridiculously paper-crafty, I am, in fact, writing everything out with nib and inkwell. I have too many hobbies.
The other goings-on responsible for derailing my knitting plans included a family vacation. I had ambitious plans for the flight: gosh golly gee, I'll bring Pomatomus along and finish, at the very least, an entire sock!
I might have, except for the books. I travel light except in respects for keeping my brain together (tissues? lip balm? who needs those when you can pack a notebook, two books, and a WIP in your purse instead?) and I made the foolish choice of bringing two very good books indeed: Roberston Davies' "Fifth Business" and JV Jones' "Fortress of Grey Ice." Knit? I barely made my flight. Good thing there was a five-hour delay.