limited knitting content

So, I’m back at home.  Trying to write. Writing.  Catching up on some sleep and relaxation.  And I don’t know why I’m compelled to write about being at home, but I am.

hybridity v.3

You see, I spent my high school years plotting my escape.  Our guidance counselor told us not to worry about college: it was too expensive, took too long, and didn’t prepare you for any kind of job we could get.  I went anyway.  So did most of my friends.  Because the only thing to do in town was leave.

Although not surprised, I was saddened to find out that my high school has the highest per capita drop-out rate in the state of Washington.  We’re a pretty small town with two relatively small high schools.  My alma mater is one of the 22 drop-out “factories” in the state.  40% of freshmen don’t graduate.  This is not good.

I shouldn’t be lucky to have gotten out.  But I am.  And that is what I can never communicate to the majority of my students in the Ivy League.  It makes me sad.  That’s all.

dear miss alice …

snoozing, originally uploaded by katie:m.

Just a little cat blogging to get through the evening.

More shawl progress to share, but no picture. So some sweet Alice in Konstanz instead. How I miss my kitty and our happy, sunny apartment on the top floor.


listen all y’all …

… it’s not sabotage.  (And, anyway, I’m listening to The Kinks.)
But still: this Jitterbug stuff is pretty nice, though a bit of a distraction from the reading and the typing and the quotations and the citations.

I have been ignoring this shawl lately.  Not in favor of a shiny new project — I’m still on the prowl for something to blow my mind in that department — but just on account of pure sloth.  It’s reached the very-long-row stage and after lavishing attention on it during a car trip to Walla Walla, Washington (yes, it’s real), I was kind of ready for a break.  Luckily, the siren song of Vincent’s Apron lured me back to the fold.

Unfortunately, the way things are shaping up, I’m afraid I’ll have an awkward amount left over.  Oh well, a small price to pay.

p.s. The weather is lovely here, but I miss my blue table.  And my kitty.