The Eagle Has Landed

The Loveland Depot, now a sports bar, but still a darn cute building

As promised, the sweaters and I took a field trip on Friday.  Actually, it was more like the Mother Ship calling me home.  Loveland, CO, home of Interweave Knits, is just the cutest little burg - complete with a wee pub to have lunch in:

Henry's Pub

I got to meet my editor, Ann Budd, who is not just good people, she's positively the best.  Apparently, it's highly unusual for the author to accompany the samples to the publisher, but Ann not only allowed it, she welcomed me with open arms, and entertained me all afternoon too.  When it was time to say goodbye to the sweaters, I felt that they were going into the best possible hands, so it was surprisingly easy to let them go.  Best of all, I got to have a real conversation with Ann about what it is I'm supposed to be doing next.  There is still the little matter of writing, now.  Turns out when you sell a book, they want it to contain actual words, as well as eye candy.  Who knew?  Guess I'll have to write me some of them things.
 

Yeah, I know - how tourista can you get?  I couldn't help it though.  The Aspire Media headquarters are actually housed in a former bank building, whose vault makes handy storage for their servers!  These are clever folks, my friends.  Ann gave me a tour and introduced me around the office.  Everyone was lovely, and unsuspicious of the weird author who wanted to come and meet them all.   I'm sure they thought I don't get out much, and they're pretty much right.

On the flight home I sat next to a lady who, although she looked quite different than me, gave me the sense of looking in a mirror.  We didn't speak - I was too exhausted, and she had on headphones.   I know we had a lot in common though, because she sat cross-legged and barefoot the whole trip, just like I do.  Her bag on the floor in front of her had bamboo knitting needles sticking out of it.  Here's the problem:  She didn't take them out the whole time.  There I was, knitting my guts out (airplane knitting is one of my favorite kinds) right next to her and she didn't even make a move toward her bag.  She had a snack.  She did sudoku.  She read Sarah Vowell (another reason I knew we were kindred).  She did not knit.  I wanted to demand of her why not, but I realized it would have been totally inappropriate, having not spoken for 2 hours.  I was dying to know why she wouldn't knit.  I checked for evidence of hand/arm injuries; nothing.  The needles were large and long - 11s at least -so maybe she didn't have enough room to swing them?  There was an empty seat between us though, which was more than roomy.  I was really freaking out when we finally landed.  How could she have wasted 3 hours of totally unmolested knitting time?  She stood up, gathered her things, and waited to get out into the aisle.  From where I stood behind her, I got a perfect view into the open top of her knitting bag, and there was the answer:  Lion Brand Homespun.  I woulda left it in the bag, too. 

Please don't think I'm a yarn snob.  I have worked with Lion Brand Homespun, and many other of the Lion company's fine products.  Without the Lion Brand basics, I would be one very sad and yarnless knitter.  After all, we do not live by foie gras alone - we need the basic brown bread that is Lion Wool in our diet.  But Homespun is the Cheez Whiz of yarn to me.  Plastic and coarse, and generally unsatisfying.  Given a choice between Homespun and sudoku, I would have done the puzzle, too. 

I wanted more than ever to speak to her then, but it's just as well that it was our turn to deplane.  The conversation in my head about this poor woman and her yarn had gotten too weird even for me.  God Speed, strange knitter;  better yarn next time.

Things got a lot more normal once I hit the ground.  My family were there to greet me, and it was time to go to the pumpkin patch, where I found some real beauties:

And the pumpkins weren't bad, either.

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!