"Gee, someone could have had a baby since you last posted."
Mady left that comment at 10:20pm on some random day between August 25, 2009 and today, and I do appreciate the gentle kick in the pants. Plus she's right, someone did have a baby since I last posted. No no no, not me... but a friend did, and the above sweater is on its way to her now.
A lot can happen in nine months. Wars, assassinations, divorces, marriages, sex-change operations, bankruptcies... when I think about it, I realize that my own life is quite tame in comparison. I have baked an extraordinary number of cakes. I have made more caramels than is probably healthy. I have acquired yarn, oh the yarn, all in the name of scholarly pursuit.
Just around the time of my last post, I was still basking in the glow of having chatted casually with Barbara Walker about who does the dishes in her house (her husband does), sat under a shady plum tree with Meg Swansen, received an impromptu toe tutorial from Anna Zilboorg, and sipped beer with Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, letting myself briefly savor that foreign, fleeting feeling of fitting in. (Which I'm not sure I did, but we'll brush over that for now.)
Then I gave birth to a beautiful book and went many places to share it with many people. I wrote countless articles, columns, and reviews. I answered emails, emails, and more emails. With about 1200 more to go. I hosted a retreat and planned another one. I swatched and swatched until my fingers were little bloody stumps. I boarded planes and trains for faraway (and not so faraway) destinations. I decided to write another book. And then I pulled out the candy thermometer and made yet more caramels.
Which pretty much brings you up to date. Life continues to be an adventure, and I am grateful that I get to be a part of it.
Anyway, the pink sweater at the very tip-top of this post is for a baby that was, indeed, quite possibly both conceived and born between my last post and this on. (My math is bad, so if I'm wrong, just pretend along with me.) It is Elizabeth Zimmermann's clever little February Baby Sweater from the Knitter's Almanac, knit in String Theory Yarn's Caper Sock with vintage mother-of-pearl buttons. The baby's name is Lydia, and from everything I've seen and heard, she is one lucky little girl who is off to a fabulous start.
As is, perchance, another season of this blog?
15 comments:
Fitting in is highly overrated.
Ah, you're back! I've missed your posts soooo much!
Artysfish commented today at about 12:30 that you don't blog anymore. You must have heard her.
Welcome back! I've missed reading your blog too. :)
Oh, my, I was actually the one to get you back to your blog. Thank you, Clara, for a wonderful, enlightening update on your interesting life. Another book? Hooray! The one lucky little girl will look beautiful in her soft pink sweater. A librarian once said to me that "children look loved in handknit sweaters." I've always liked that and have thought of it often over the years.
Welcome back!
you crack me up. i'm not to sure there can ever me too much caramel thoug. just sayin.
I was so excited to see your blog title show up with new posts! I love your Book of Wool (which was the only souvenir I brought home with me from Rhinebeck) so much. So eager to see this next book you've got planned!
I'm sure Lydia will look gorgeous in it, and I bet her folks will love the care and the glorious yarn.
I don't think that sounds that tame! Lovely adventures
Honey,
What a lucky little girl to have a Clara sweater from an EZ beloved pattern & lucky us to have a post from you.
XOXO
Congratulations on your book, and good luck on the next one! The power of the hand-knit sweater is, indeed, incredible. I still have a woolly sea foam green one my great grandmother made for me when I was a toddler. It has a shiniest satin ribbon lining behind the buttonholes. Of course, we now live in a place in which wearing a woolly sweater is impossible, but I keep it at the bottom of Genevieve's drawer nonetheless.
Beautiful sweater!
So nice to see a post ~ a peek into Clara's window :-D
I think we all fit in somewhere... it's just that sometimes those places aren't in the places we expect. TRYING to fit in is annoying.
Carmels and cakes are intrinisically good.
Can't wait to hear more about your writing project... in due time, of course.
is there any chance you could furnish us with your claramels recipe? understood if it's a highly guarded trademark in the making secret you need to keep!
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