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Lately, I feel like school is seriously interfering with my crafting life.  Blah, blah, dissertation, blah, surprise! exams in January, blah, blah, where’s your proposal?  See what I mean?  It’s all highly disappointing (well, from a crafting perspective; from an academic perspective it’s really quite exciting and motivating and invigorating in that ohmygod-I’m-never-going-to-make-it kind of hyperventilation way).  Even if I do managed to work in a chapter about knitting, well … it’s still only writing about knitting and not actually, um, knitting.

And call me crazy — after all, it’s mid-November and all the fall Nashville can seem to muster is naked trees and 73 degrees — but all I want to do it knit.  Just knit knit knit …

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Terra is just zipping along for that reason.  Can I tell you how much I love this pattern?  Lots.  It just makes sense … the perfect kind of almost automatic knitting that I crave at the end of a long day — nice, meditative rows where everything comes together into something beautiful — that still offers just enough interest (look, there’s a purl row!) and attainable milestones (another repeat down!) to keep tedium at bay.  That Mr. Flood.  He sure knows how to write the heck out of a pattern.

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The purple also helps.

In other news: how did I miss this?  This being a new online magazine: Knitting Iceland.  Yes, yes I do want to knit Iceland.  Very much.

I also want to knit modernly from the top down: why did I think I wouldn’t like this book?  There is so much prettiness to be had.  Silly Katie.

Finally, I might have just bought two new patterns: cedar leaf shawlette (this one has a shot of actually being completed within my lifetime) and the albers shawl (which will be nice and cozy when hell freezes over and I get it finished).

Right now, I have so many to-knit patterns on my wishlist (cardigans!  shawls!  all of them!!) … I shudder to open my closet of crafty dooooooooom and find all of my works in progress staring back at me with woolly accusing eyes: pocket-less Idlewood, Violet Beauregarde, dreamy mohair wrap (how I want to wear you!  how I dread knitting you!), ugly office socks, a bespoke Selbu Modern

I slept in this morning (really slept in, roll over and OMG it’s 10:30 sleeping in) and it was everything I’d dreamed it could be.  But now I should really get to the coffeeshop and get that presentation under way.  (How YOU doin’, Derrida?)  Nashville has lots of semi-fancy, semi-hipsterish, semi-bougie coffeeshops … and yet, despite my profound wish to be 1000% cooler than I am, I seem to be the most productive at the crappy Starbucks right across from campus.  Why?  Perhaps the stakes are lower at a place so obviously uncool and corporately corrupted.