On the goal front, things have been...subpar.
1. I failed cold sleeping inadvertently three days into the year. The Loopy Ewe gave me a merchandise credit and I purchased some project bags with it. (Note: NOT YARN. My intentions were honorable!) Since this was my sixth order, I got a welcome gift of a cute calendar, a pattern, tootsie rolls and...
The yarn is lovely, but I'm miffed that I couldn't even keep incoming yarn out for a week.
2. I resolved to read both two books and three books last week. Oops. I read:
One for the books by Joe Queenan
I was happy to see this in the library's new arrivals section, as the author's recent piece in the Wall Street Journal left me stifling giggles when I read it at work. As a bibliomaniac myself, it's always fun to hear someone else talk about their relationship with books. Queenan is a bit of a curmudgeon, and it was fun to hear him rail about people who recommend bad books, disingenuous book blurbs and ugly cover art. Queenan is in love with books as escape vehicles (unsurprisingly, he reads mostly fiction) and as physical objects (and so he loves bookstores and loathes kindles). The full book was entertaining, but the op-ed dragged on less and was more fun. Queenan's bookish quirks aren't e ough to sustain a piece of 200 pages, and I found myself getting bored as the book went on and became repetitive. The author's curmudgeonly posturing rings false as the pages go on. I don't regret reading it, but I would have regretted buying it.
Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
In an effort to spare my hands, I'm trying out the Kindle my employer gave me for Christmas last year. I was skeptical (hence why it sat largely unused for a year), but the recent bout of hand pains made me pick it up again. Since I'm cheap, I opted for this classic, a freebie. I think it's been a decade since I read the book, so it's fun to reread it from the other side of college, work and marriage. I believe it is generally accepted that Alcott wrote herself into the story as Jo March, and growing up, I identified with Jo most. This time around, I didn't, and found Meg, with whom I share a name, the little woman I most wanted to meet. Since my life is shaping up more like Meg's, this is unsurprising.
In rereading the book, I realized how doomed, DOOMED! Beth was from the start. My mother had warned me as a girl that Beth died, but I still found her demise shocking and upsetting when I was younger. Beth, who is too fragile for school, disinterested in adult life and wants nothing more than to cling to Marmee and play hymns all day is clearly not long for this world. I still found her death poignant, but all too inevitable. It was nice to return to their world, if only for the afternoon it took to read the book, and I look forward to sharing this book with my own daughters one day.
I'm currently reading Little Men, by Louisa May Alcott and Confederates in the Attic, by Tony Horwitz and listening to The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein while I do housework.
3. The hand pain issues that are making holding a book a challenge have also slowed my knitting. I knit 30 grams on my Lace Yoke Sweater instead of 50 and didn't touch the sock at all. I'm not thrilled, but I am pleased I knit nearly every day.
1. Finish 3 books.
2. Knit 50 grams on sweater.
3. Finish skein on CodeMonkey's sock.
4. Make packing list for upcoming business trip.
5. Go to bed by 11 each night.