It's been awhile

I swatched. I washed my swatch. I measured. I did math. I made adjustments. I tried it on as I knit. I made a sweater that fits:



It's the cozy v-neck from Fitted Knits.



I really love the color, and that I actually made it and did a good job.

In the three or so weeks that have passed since last I posted, quite a lot has happened. I went to Loop, which is my new favorite store. So cute. Such nice yarn. So close to where I live.

We went to see lambs being born in Sussex. I didn't actually see any lambs being born, but I did see lots of fairly new-born lambs, and lots of afterbirth hanging from the ewe's you-know-whats. I forgot my camera, so no photos. After that afternoon, I had a much better understanding of what people mean when they use acting like sheep as a metaphor for human behaviour. I came away from the afternoon less excited about sheep. Though the sheep at the Hackney City Farm seem much less ... sheep-like. Maybe because there's only three or four of them. Now I'm more excited about goats. Partially from seeing all the photos of new babies at the Martha's Vineyard Fiber Farm. It just seems like goats would have a sense of humor, and sheep don't really seem to?

I've also been coughing for five weeks. Last week, I ended up in the emergency room, because I woke up in the middle of the night, unable to breathe when I coughed. They took x-rays, blood tests, and found nothing wrong with me. But then, I went to my doctor today for the first time. He was really nice. He thinks I have pleurisy, which sounds worse (to me) than what it really is - a lower respiratory infection. So he gave me some penicillin, and hopefully it'll go away. I thought all the coughing was making my back muscles sore, but actually they're not sore at all. My lungs are sore, and it feels like my back.

Last bit of news, my landlady in Brooklyn, who's supposed to be taking care of our cat, Bruno, lost him. That's right, she lost him. She took him to her house in Vermont, and he's gone. I am really freaked out, worrying that the poor little guy might have spent the last days of his life in absolute misery. I am also more rationally expecting him to figure things out and end up safely with one of her neighbors. A friend was telling me today how a friend of his had moved 100 miles away, and one day his cat disappeared, and found its way back to its original home 100 miles away. Come on, Bruno! You can do it!

One thing I really like about London - there are great tights here.