Books

Though I purged my books mercilessly a few months ago, I had another look the other day. I was able to part with about a third of what remained. Now I have around 80 books left.  There were a couple that survived to round two merely because they bore an inscription. This time, I decided to document the writing and say goodbye to any volumes that I didn't absolutely need to keep. 

I wrote the above inside a book of short stories by Roald Dahl, which Pete and I both felt comfortable discarding.  I should add that I did not sort his books--only those I considered my own. If I came across something we shared, I consulted him before tossing it.  He has been a good sport throughout this process and often has added an item or two to my donation pile.

This book, which I never read, was incredibly precious to me because of what he wrote inside.  I hope someone will find it and finally read it, as it deserves. And I hope they won't mind our little scribbles on the inside covers.  

Shoes

I boxed up lots of shoes.  Many were a half-size too small, which I rescued from my sister's cast off pile but never really wore.  There was a pair of generous flats I wore at the tail end of my pregnancy with Lucy, which never fit properly again.  And heels, such gorgeous heels, that were mouldering away in the closet of a 5'10" mother of two.  I love it when tall girls wear heels--and I want to be able to pull it off!  But I just wind up loping around awkwardly, or barreling around at a 90° angle, so I can snatch up a naughty child more readily.  Right now, I value practicality and comfort, with style as a bit of an afterthought.  Observe:

boots

black galoshes

casual knee-length brown leather boots

brown shearling boots 

(soon to be replaced with proper winter boots that don't go all soggy at the first sign of slush)

sandals

tobacco birkenstock sandals

tan closed-toe dressy sandals

red rubber flip flops for the beach

flats

black croc flats suitable for dew-soaked playgrounds

tan flats

slippers

tan shearling-lined loafer slippers

What do you think?  Am I missing anything obvious?  Is there anything superfluous here?

Clothing for special occasions

 Getting rid of my wedding dress wasn't hard for me.  In fact, I did it a few months ago.  I have decided to keep the shrug I knit though.  I have only worn it once since our wedding, on a particularly icy Pascha, but had to remove it because the church was so crowded and overheated.  It is surprisingly toasty and the angora sheds all over everyone.  But it still makes me tremendously happy.

 I ran my red suede shoes completely into the ground, but have been hanging onto them anyway.  It was easy to say goodbye finally because I got so much out of them.  Tomorrow I'll talk more about the rest of the shoes I have culled.

Yarn Along: Steek Preparedness

My handspun owls sweater is zipping along!  I finally joined the sleeves and body and have been working on the owl cables this week.  As I plan to steek it open into a cardigan, I spent some time reading the excellent tutorials by Kate Davies.

That led me to her brand new book, Yokes, which has been incredibly inspiring and informative. I've settled on the steek and button band from the Epistrophy cardigan. It's such a clean finish, with ribbon sewn over the steek edges. 

Because this is my second steeking project, I'm not anxious, but I do get a pang of guilt at the thought of cutting through all of that handspun.  There will be no going back after this. It's fitting fate for fiber that was prepared twice, spun up, then knitted into a complete sweater, only to be frogged back into yarn without being worn much. I think it deserves to be irrevocably finished, once and for all. Wish me luck!

accessories

It's so easy to get rid of the lone earrings that have been on their own for years, the rings that don't fit, or the broken bangles. But I found it a bit harder to say goodbye to my college jewelry. The artsy, interesting earrings, the chunky necklaces I loved to wear with button-downs.  I said goodbye to an era, a version of myself.  I've outgrown that stuff and hadn't worn it in years, but it still felt strange to bag it all up for the thrift shop. 

One bit of college jewelry stayed behind though--my green jade ring, which I bought at a street fair the day I met Pete. I told him about it after we had been dating for a while. He snuck it out of my jewelry box one night and on a whim used it to propose.  It's too tight now, but gives me a little glow whenever I see it. One day I'll let Lucy have it. 

bags

This one was easy.  Perhaps too easy.  I tried to complicate things a little by including project bags, tote bags, grocery bags, and luggage, in addition to the obvious purses.

I am down to one purse.  I am not a huge fan of it, to be honest.  It definitely does not spark joy.  But I need something to carry around until I find my dream bag.  I've given some thought to what it should be.  Cross-body option in addition to handles that are long enough to go over my shoulder.  It must be lightweight and versatile, so black or brown or a combo.  Big enough to fit the essentials, plus a diaper or two and the obligatory knitting project.  It should zip closed.  I thought Longchamp might be it for a while, but now I wonder if some variation of this bag might be better.

In the meantime, my old beater will have to do.

craft closet

The other day I went into the walk-in closet where I keep most of my craft supplies and began sorting through things, only to realize that I had bitten off more than I could chew.  The kids were melting, I was beginning to crash after a long day, and I couldn't think clearly enough to make the tough decisions.  I put nearly everything back and resolved to try again later.  I will just stick to the order laid out in the book from now on.  First clothing, then books, and so on, leaving craft supplies for last, as they carry so much importance.  They're more similar to mementos, at least for me.

I was able to purge lots of odd balls of yarn, random needles, and stitch markers that are no longer to my liking, which I plan to pass on to a little girl at church who is already an accomplished knitter.

Then I set aside nearly all of my lace weight yarn for my friend Nina. She is a genius at Tunisian crochet, which has the look of knitting, but is slightly bulkier, so fine yarn is a real must. She came to visit the other afternoon and brought along this amazing shawlette she had just completed out of stunning green mohair. It positively danced before my eyes.

She has this uncanny knack for finding exactly the pattern that will make a given yarn really shine.  I remember this particular lace weight alpaca in various shades of purple that I found at a farmer's market years ago.  It used to puzzle me.  I knew there was a risk of horrible pooling, which intimidated me.  I finally decided to let Nina have a go at it.  She came up with this very open crochet pattern that was just the right fit.  Rather than causing the colors to pool, the pattern made each shade of purple look like facets of an amethyst.  (How's that for purple prose?)

With this in mind, I brought out my delicious lace weights. As beautiful as they were, I had no desire to work with them.  Perhaps someday it would click, but it didn't seem fair that the yarn would have to wait around until then, wilting on the shelf.  It felt like such a waste.  So to Nina they will go!

Farewell, all you fine yarn.  I can't wait to see what you become!