Wool & Words

Pippi Progress--Finally!

Although the progress is much more of a regression than progression. I'd gotten this far on sock number one, when I realized that things were going all wrong.

You can't really tell here, but the gauge is all wrong. The pattern is looking for 6.5 stitches to the inch, I was knitting at 7, and the fabric was too loosy-goosey for socks. And then I remembered: I'm using sock yarn, not sport...which is the weight the pattern calls for. So, I've got to, in the words of the fabulous Bonne Marie, BOSS MY KNITTING AROUND.

I whipped out my size 0 DPNs and swatched away. Half of L.A. Story later, I had a gauge of 8 stitches per inch, a nice feeling swatch, and a plan. I'm going to rewrite the pattern, basing the foot measurements on the templates in my fave book, The Knitter's Handy Book of Patterns (how tired are you all of hearing me talk about that one?), and add 3" worth of stitches to the cast on number to account for the calf shaping. So there.

Maybe all those math classes were worthwhile after all.

D.H. Lawrence on Teaching

The studying is moving along. I've been plugging away, focusing on my oh-so-quick survey of British poets. Teachers, I give you D. H. Lawrence's "Last Lesson of the Afternoon."

When will the bell ring, and end this weariness?
How long have they tugged the leash, and strained apart,
My pack of unruly hounds! I cannot start
Them again on a quarry of knowledge they hate to hunt,
I can haul them and urge them no more.

No longer now can I endure the brunt
Of the books that lie out on the desks; a full threescore
Of several insults of blotted pages, and scrawl
Of slovenly work that they have offered me.
I am sick, and what on earth is the good of it all?
What good to them or me, I cannot see!

So, shall I take
My last dear fuel of life to heap on my soul
And kindle my will to a flame that shall consume
Their dross of indifference; and take the toll
Of their insults in punishment? — I will not! —

I will not waste my soul and my strength for this.
What do I care for all that they do amiss!
What is the point of this teaching of mine, and of this
Learning of theirs? It all goes down the same abyss.

What does it matter to me, if they can write
A description of a dog, or if they can't?
What is the point? To us both, it is all my aunt!
And yet I'm supposed to care, with all my might.

I do not, and will not; they won't and they don't; and that's all!
I shall keep my strength for myself; they can keep theirs as well.
Why should we beat our heads against the wall
Of each other? I shall sit and wait for the bell.

This idea of "beating our heads against the wall of each other" seems to sum up what I feel like when I'm grading papers.

Secrets Revealed

Cleanliness makes strong brotherly bonds.