Sunday, February 12, 2012

Willpower and Knit-Alongs

Pointelle Sock #1
Despite the apparent lack of it, I am making progress in my knitting. Sock #2 is on the needles, and the cuff is already almost done. I really enjoyed knitting the first sock - the pattern is complicated but easily accomplished IF I concentrate. The photo above makes the yarn look like it has blue in it but that's just the color of the sock blocker. 

After this pair I'll knit some vanilla socks, or perhaps a pair of yoga socks (toe-less, heel-less) to make up for lost time!

Feeling tempted this morning, after listening to Paula's Knitting Pipeline podcast, to break my yarn diet and go purchase 3 skeins of Quince Chickadee in the apricot colorway for Paula's Piper's Journey KAL (knit-along). Total cost with shipping is about $30.00 Will I? 

Not if I take to heart the suggestions in the first chapter of The Willpower Instinct - a book that Zig and I are reading. This promises to be a life-changing book, meant to be read at the rate of one chapter/week. 

As for the KAL, my birthday is coming up...perhaps there is someone out there who would give me the pattern and the yarn? Hint, hint. I know, I'm shameless. SHAMELESS!!!

Common Cold
 
Go hang yourself, you old M.D,!
You shall not sneer at me.
Pick up your hat and stethoscope,
Go wash your mouth with laundry soap;
I contemplate a joy exquisite
In not paying you for your visit.
I did not call you to be told
My malady is a common cold.

By pounding brow and swollen lip;
By fever's hot and scaly grip;
By those two red redundant eyes
That weep like woeful April skies;
By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
By handkerchief after handkerchief;
This cold you wave away as naught
Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!


Give ear, you scientific fossil!
Here is the genuine Cold Colossal;
The Cold of which researchers dream,
The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme.
This honored system humbly holds
The Super-cold to end all colds;
The Cold Crusading for Democracy;
The F├╝hrer of the Streptococcracy.


Bacilli swarm within my portals
Such as were ne'er conceived by mortals,
But bred by scientists wise and hoary
In some Olympic laboratory;
Bacteria as large as mice,
With feet of fire and heads of ice
Who never interrupt for slumber
Their stamping elephantine rumba.


A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth!
Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth;
Don Juan was a budding gallant,
And Shakespeare's plays show signs of talent;
The Arctic winter is fairly coolish,
And your diagnosis is fairly foolish.
Oh what a derision history holds
For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!
 

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