Tuesday, 11 December 2007

Just a quick post to share my sneaking suspicion that the Secret Jumper may be ever so slightly behind schedule. My boss's response to being told it was meant to be finished by Friday was, "oh...Is it for a baby?" Ah, if only! (Erm, if only the recipient were child-sized, I mean. Not if only I had a baby to knit for. Just clarifying.) Unfortunately all sorts of strangely pointless activities seem to be vying to eat into my remaining available knitting time - this evening I was frogmarched along to an exhibition opening (can you technically call ten pictures an exhibition?); tomorrow I'm getting up at the crack of dawn to go to a pre-work English lesson with a group of MPs (well you never know, I might learn something...I did catch myself putting a verb at the end of an English sentence the other day); and on Thursday my flatmate has decided that we need to go and look at dinosaur skeletons in a museum round the corner. Normally I'm all in favour of dinosaur skeletons, but inbetween making and decorating a fruitcake; panicking about not having thought of, let alone bought, a single solitary Christmas present; and knitting oodles and oodles of ribbing, admiring dinosaur skeletons has slipped down my "must do" list a bit.

Sunday, 9 December 2007

Guess who's been good this year?

Happy (belated) Nikolaus! (Note to self: next year polish shoes)

I've been a bit frazzled this week; time seems to be slipping away at an alarming rate. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm not really cut out for the whole work-full-time-while-maintaining-semblance-of-a-life thing - sometimes I remind myself of the Nick Hornby character who muses, "life took up so much time, so how could one work and, say, take a bath on the same day? He suspected that one or two people he knew were making some pretty unsavoury short cuts".

But I'm guessing you really don't want to know about my new-and-improved speed-hair-washing technique, so instead I present my progress on the Secret Jumper: a sleeve!Well, two sleeves actually, but I'm sure your imaginations are up to picturing the other one. Apologies for the terrible lighting - as far as I can make out my entire room is illuminated by a single 2 watt bulb. (And the edges aren't really wonky, honest; they're just curling under a bit.) Progress has ground to a halt, though, as I've realised I don't know Mike's chest size. (Have I just lost all credibility as a girlfriend? I do know his collar size, his inside leg measurement, even the circumference of his head [62cm, just in case anyone ever wants to make him a hat or buy him a motorcycle helmet], but for some reason my knowledge of his chest measurement has never gone beyond the 'M's and 'L's on the tags of his t-shirts.) After extensive poking around on men's clothing sites I've come to the hesitant conclusion that it's probably about 40", but when miles of ribbing are involved I don't much like words like "probably", so I've cunningly enlisted one of his sisters to do some snooping for me. In the meantime there's not a lot I can do on the knitting front, other than marvel at the luminescent scrumptiousness of the wool:
Proof that I do indeed swatch! I even washed this one; how domestic goddess-y is that?