Burn Baby Burn

Well, my friends, the time has come:  Tonight I'm putting 5 months worth of knitting patterns, schematics, charts and introductions onto this 21st-century version of the manuscript box.  The samples (oh man - what a pile of knitting - all 24 pieces!) are going into a wheely suitcase (the big one I took to Europe) for their journey to Interweave Press.  We (the knitting and I) are going to Colorado tomorrow to make the drop.  I can't wait to meet my editor and see where all the magic happens.

In the meantime, other than packing up my yarn children, and washing something to wear (I hope I don't accidentally get any extra laundry done - might break my perfect record) I am going to take it easy tonight.  And speaking of unparalleled delights, guess what I'm doing!

That's right people!  It's recreational knitting!! 

Now, I don't want to give the impression that working on my own projects is unenjoyable.  It's just the phenomenon that as soon as you have been paid to do something, it's no longer your own thing; it's work.  I don't care if your job was lounging poolside with a box of Godivas, as soon as you got that first paycheck, you'd be like "Awww, man - those flip-flops are so dead to me now..."

This is my first non-book-related project in 5 months.  Phillip caught me casting on and said "So, let me understand this:  you are celebrating the completion of your knitting by...knitting?"

Duh!  Of course!  And this is cotton.  It's not even remotely the same.  Actually, it's going to be my version of Helene Rush's "Hey Teach" , which I have been coveting ever since last spring.  In a nod to the fact that it's no longer spring, I am putting long sleeves on it, which you see above.  I am using Cotton Ease, which is so inexpensive when it's on sale (most of the time) that it barely even counts as yarn, at least in terms of the budget.  I love the way the lace looks like artichoke leaves. 

{Insert Sigh of Contentment Here}

Tag Em and Bag Em

Here is the beginning of what became a pile of 20 zipper bags.  Not signifigant, except that the little tags attached to them had to be sewn on one at a time, amounting to 40 trips under the sewing machine needle, and a kajillion wee threads to snip.  It's a "little" job I've been blowing off for about 4 months, during which time I told my self quite convincingly that there would be plenty of time for it later.  Later arrived yesterday with a thud.  The dining room quickly became my own private sweatshop.

So why go to this much trouble?  Why does each project in the book have to travel in its own  little zipper bag?  Why does each bag have to sport my label and the project name, which corresponds to a hang-tag on each sample?

I have no idea, except to tell you that I have OCD for real, and I just don't know when to stop.  In my attempts to organize and protect my book samples, I have begun to act like a parent sending the children to summer camp for the first time.  I have tried to anticipate each sweater's every need while it is seperated from me, stopping short only of moth-prevention (though I am still wondering if I need to address that).  Who will take care of them?  Where will they be stored?  Will they get wrinkled/crushed/folded/spindled/mutilated?  What if someone tries to steam them and they get ruined?  I have completely lost perspective.  Does knowing this excuse my overzealous behavior?  Probably not.  So I just plead "Artist" and smile sweetly.  I just want it how I want it.  And the labels do look pretty cool.

I'm not suffering too badly.  Here is "Still Life with Gin, Tonic and Felted Roses", to illustrate that I do know how to celebrate.  This moment marked the completion of all the book knitting, at 2AM on Monday 10-20, to be precise.  I felt like it must be time for a little something.  Then I slept on my face without twitching for 4 hours and woke up in time to make my children pancakes before school.  I wanted them to celebrate, too. 

Now there are just a few more ends to weave in before the sweaters and I take our trip to Interweave Press on Friday.  Wonder what that will be like!

That Whooshing Sound

is the noise made by my first deadline blowing past.  10-15-08 was originally the day that all my samples and patterns were meant to be complete.  Fortunately for me, I gained a few extra days by deciding to deliver my stuff to the publisher, rather than ship it.  The sweaters and I are going for a plane ride!  I am cautiously optimistic that the items for delivery will be in knitted, rather than yarn form, but please don't quote/jinx me. 

Tune in next time for the story of how I made yarn.  You'll laugh, you'll cry; It's better than "CATS".