I have vaguely eluded to the fact that my work life has sort of sucked as of late. In general I like my job and my bosses. However, due to a series of unfortunate coincidences I have been doing the job of two people by myself since mid-December (though I am willing to argue almost 9 months but feel somewhat unkind in doing so). Anyway, while the over time has been awesome, the lack of personal time is making for a crabby and generally unhappy me. Projects have been accumulating around the house at an alarming rate and my ability to care about them has dropped progressively. I know this sounds angry and unpleasant and sort of defeatist but that is how I am feeling...defeated. It will improve I know and there is light at the end of this tunnel. It is just a slow process getting there.
To combat all of the general ickyness and malaise, I have been taking what spare time I can and pouring it into string. I finished the lovely leaves and fishies scarf. I am currently blocking it. I am very bad at blocking. There will be more pictures once it is blocked and the weather improves enough that I feel safe taking it outside.
I also started the Pretty as a Peacock shawl. I don't like lace in general. I just think it looks too fussy. Some of it can be beautiful but most of it just isn't my style. But this shawl is so indescribably beautiful. I know myself however and did not want to pay the expense of a project I would never finish. The deal was I had to finish the leaves/fishie scarf first before I was allowed to purchase the materials for and start the peacock shawl. Having accomplished the first task I decided I deserved the chance to play with the shawl. It is slow going and a bit more complex then I may be ready for but the silk I found is so perfect and the pattern is just lovely. I am excited. My goal is to have it done by halloween. wish me luck!
Above is my progress thus far. This was taken during one of my recent visits to Sow's Ear with two amazing ladies for a day full of tea and giggles and string and general awesomeness. The little sheep in the picture is Simon but there will be more about him during another post.
I have also been reading a great deal. Mostly just murder mysteries which I know some people consider fluff, but I have to say I don't really care. I grew up reading mysteries and have re-discovered my joy for them as an adult. And, I honestly feel that even though the writing is not always superb and the plot sometimes predictable, I have learned more from the time I have spent with mysteries then I ever did from the agonizingly painful process of the steady reading that comes from classical literature. Don't get me wrong, there is some truly brilliant classical literature out there (and really in any genre if you look hard enough), but so much of it is just depressing. My brain enjoys the plot dissection that comes with a good (or even a bad) murder mystery.
That said, I am not sure I liked the book "Virals" by Kathy Reichs. It was a foray into young adult fiction. The book was okay I guess. I think my disappointment is more that I come to expect something different from her then what this delivered. I sometimes wonder if I might have liked it better if she had used a different pen name.
I am still continuing my journey through young adult fiction. I did really enjoy the book "Revolution"...up to a point. At first I was uncertain where the author was taking me, and then as things developed I was really excited to take that journey with her. Things got a little weird towards the end though and I am not sure I was able to follow. I think I am interested enough in the authors style though to try some of her other novels.
Next up on my reading list: "The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake". Honestly, I picked up the book because of the title alone. I am not sure where the the book is going to go but I am intrigued.
I had a lovely conversation about the books I loved as a child with my workout buddy last night. I cannot begin to tell you how much I love talking about books with other people. We talked about shared favorites and why we love them. We talk about the fear of re-reading books we loved as a child in case we no longer enjoyed them. And we talked about that amazing feeling when the book still touches your heart.
One of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman, recently posted a blog regarding his friendship with the late Diana Wynne Jones (another amazing writer). Mr. Gaiman is pretty amazing in his own right and to hear him talk about his respect/admiration for her gave me a little more faith in humanity. One of that parts of the post that has stayed with me was a quote of hers: "Children are much more careful readers than adults," she'd say. "You don't have to repeat everything for children. You do with adults, because they aren't paying full attention." I certainly agree. I am consistently frustrated when I read a series how each book has to beat the reader over the head with the back story found in prior books. I am also a little worried that perhaps my distance from childhood is why I could not follow some of the other authors I have been reading lately. I am becoming too much of an adult. I find this very sad.
Today was a day for getting things done though. I cleaned out my desk (which took some doing), cleaned all the winter mud from the front foyer, got a haircut (I was rather shaggy, got some laundry done, and did a little reading. I wanted to knit a row or two of my shawl though and hopefully I can catch up with some friends after that.
