I finished Karryn's sweater, a lovely wool number it is already too warm on most days to wear - strange winter, this. But, it was terribly exciting to do... I knit it from top to bottom in one piece, with nary a single seam. Sewing needle required only to weave in the ends... it's the perfect project. Hurrah!
Currently on the needles... an aran short sleeved sweater for myself, a raglan cardigan for the brother, and a pair of cigar gloves for Julian.
Knitting to: We Are Scientists
Praise in Creation
by Gerald Manley Hopkins
Glory be to God for dappled things --
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced -- fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.
I woke up early this morning, wrapped myself in my favorite fluffy white terrycloth robe, and headed to the balcony to say hello to the day. The birds were chirping effusively (all of nature believes it is spring), greeting the sun as it crept over the eastern peaks. Brewing a fresh cup of coffee to warm my hands and grabbing a bowl of muesli (oats, yogurt, nuts & fruit - my favorite breakfast goo), I settled back on my wooden chair, propped my feet up on the railing, and pondered this garden of aesthetic delights that we are so privileged to live in.
(The picture didn't do it justice, so I took a video to capture the birdsong. The quality is not great, but you get the idea...)
A couple of weeks ago, Phil the Bald Blogger tagged me, so here are my responses to his prompts about books... (I should add that as a lifelong hoarder and chronically indecisive individual, choosing one of anything - particularly books!, even hypothetically, makes my heart palpitate. I'll do my best...)
One book that changed your life: Okay, so I'm going to have to go with 2 (I told you 1 is not a good number for me!), one as a kiddo, one as an adult. As a wee one, I loved the Harriet the Spy novels. I'd count them as life changing because Harriet's curiosity about the world around her inspired some of my own, and wanting to mimic her led to me carrying around a notebook and jotting things down, which I credit at least in part to my love of writing. As an adult, I'd have to go with Slaves, Women and Homosexuals by William Webb. Kind of a weird choice, I know. It wasn't exactly 'inspirational', but I think it was one of the main things that transformed the way I read scripture (he has what he calls a redemptive movement hermeneutic). As a woman growing up in a fairly traditional/patriarchal environment, it was also particularly helpful in clarifying my understanding of a biblical notion of gender equality.
One book you've read more than once: The Brothers K by David James Duncan. One of my favorite novels of all time, it follows the lives of the Chance family, narrated by the youngest son, Kincaid, as they deal with love, war, baseball, religion, and a dysfunctionally functioning family. Each character is wonderfully well-rounded, forcing you to love them in both their strengths and weaknesses. There are no white or black hats, and in that way it really captures the subtleties of real life. Even the minor characters are unforgettable (Grandawma, Vera). I could go on, but in the interests of space, I'll just say READ IT. Even if you don't love fiction, you'll enjoy this book. It will make you laugh, cry, and wonder at the beautiful complexities of relationships.
One book you'd want on a desert island, besides the Bible: I'd have to go with a complete collection of the works of Shakespeare. Cliche? Maybe. But the language of the bard bears the weight of a lifetime of readings, the multitude of genres could keep up with my mercurial moods, and the fact that they are plays means I could act them out with friends for hours of entertainment. (I'm not alone on this island, right?) And, of course, the lovely sonnets which a beautiful man could read to me as the sun sets over the water...
One book that made you laugh: Most recently, I was brought to tears by Knitting Rules! by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee (aka the Yarn Harlot). The humor may be lost on people less obsessed with knitting than I am, but if you do knit, you can't help but love the way she recounts her knitting trials and triumphs. Heh. Also? Anything by David Sedaris, with a special love for Me Talk Pretty One Day.
One book that made you cry: Hmmm, this is the hardest one. I don't cry much while reading. Or at all, really. Not because I'm tough, I'm just emotionally constipated. I definitely cried in The Brothers K, but I've already used that one....
I also cried while reading Princess: A True Story of Life Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia by Jean Sasson. Some of the appalling abuses of women recounted in this volume are unbelievable, and I wish they were fiction.
One book you wish had been written: A book cool enough, yet truthful enough, to convince a rebellious teenager that she didn't actually have try everything for herself.
One book you wish had never been written: O.J. Simpson: If I Did It, Here's How It Happened. Need I say more? Granted, it was never released, but the fact that a publisher actually thought this was a good idea is beyond me.
One book that you've been meaning to read: Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling. Josh (my amazing brother, who in a side note managed to create an apparatus to facillitate my love for both knitting and reading this Christmas. The picture is awful, but you can see the frame that holds the book/book light that I can peer over to check my knitting from time to time.) has been recommending it for ages, and even bought me a copy, but somehow I haven't quite gotten to it, yet.
One book that you are currently reading: I always have at least 2 books going, one fiction and one non-fiction, so I'll do both... shocking. The novel I'm reading is Helen of Troy by Margaret George. She's my favorite historical fiction novelist, but I must admit that I'm not loving this one as much as Henry VIII or Cleopatra, but I am sort of fascinated by the Greek relationships with the gods. The gods are capricious and not to be trusted... they have very few qualities I would consider 'godlike'. On the non-fiction front, I'm working through In the Beginning by Henri Blocher, which deals with the first few chapters of Genesis. It's one of the first presentations I've read of a literary (historico-artistic) interpretation of the creation narrative, and it is intriguing. I've only made it through the first few chapters so far, but hopefully I'll write up something on it when I'm done and have more complete thoughts.
Okay, that's my list. Most everyone I know is interesting and literate, but since I can't tag you all, I'll just tag Greg, Eden, April and Luz. If anyone else gets inspired to do a list, please comment with the link - I'd love to read them!
I just read a new review of Amazing Grace. I know I've referenced it before, and I still haven't seen the film so I can't offer a fabulous review/critique, but I find myself intrigued by the allure of this story and the lauding of the character (William Wilberforce) by press both liberal (IHT, Salon) and conservative (beliefnet, CT). I don't know how much the film portrays Christianity as a driving factor in WW's life, and maybe it's sort of relegated to the background, but I feel like part of the draw is the connection between faith and social action that people just sort of 'sense' should be there but that we so seldomly see lived out around us. Perhaps we're all just thirsty for a story that exemplifies the power of faith put into action. A story that, quite literally, shows the power of Christ redeeming us from bondage and into freedom. That shows what can happen when we let anger compel us towards positive, culture shaping change. I need narratives like this - they help me regain my hope and footing when I get so overwhelmed by the chaos around me that I can't see any possibility for redemption within it.
"It was the materiality of Christianity that fascinated me, the compelling story of incarnation in its grungiest details, the promise that words and flesh were deeply, deeply connected."
I just read an excerpt from a new book titled Take This Bread by Sara Miles, a "left-wing, secular journalist and former cook." I'm fairly certain I'll have some major points of disagreement with her theology, but a lot of what she wrote resonated with me and the things that have been on my mind of late. For example, the value of doubt, which jumped out at me from the first paragraph...
My first year at St. Gregory's would begin, and end, with questions. Now I understand that questions are at the heart of faith, and that certainties about God can flicker on and off, no matter what you think you know. But back then, I thought "believers" were people who knew exactly what they believed and had nailed all the answers.
She talked about some of her initial questions, and I smiled when she labeled "how to pray" a beginner's query - for me it's one of the biggies - I find prayer a huge mystery of faith, but I suppose in high church there would be more regimented ways than in the non-denominational churches of my upbringing. She did mention trying "to summon up thankfulness" in prayer, which I find an interesting notion. A few weeks ago, in a prayer meeting, I read a portion of The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis (which I highly recommend) written in 1942 in which dear Uncle Screwtape encouraged Wormwood to try and get his 'subject' to focus on himself rather than God in prayer, summoning up a feeling within himself in lieu of relying on God. This reliance on feeling in faith is something we, especially Greg, talk a lot about here, and it truly is everywhere... but that is something of an aside.
She had the requisite anger at the "hypocrisy and insincerity of church", something which seems to come up over and over around l'abri and seems to be a stumbling block for nearly everyone at some point. Allying yourself with such a "fabulously corrupt institution" can be daunting, and it can be difficult to defend such an ailing body as is the body of Christ on earth.
Conversion was turning out to be quite far from the greeting-card moment promised by televangelists, when Jesus steps into your life, personally saves you, and becomes your lucky charm forever. Instead, it was socially and politically awkward, as well as profoundly confusing. I wasn't struck with any sudden conviction that I now understood the "truth." If anything, I was just crabbier, lonelier, and more destabilized.
Some might call that the disorientation that seems to invariably precede any sort of re-orientation. A necessary, though painful, part of the journey.
All this to say, I'm looking forward to reading this book. I'm sure there will be many points of disagreement, but I'm hopeful that there will be treasures as well.
Currently Listening To: Turin Brakes
The last few days have allowed me plenty of knitting time (chapel, prayer meeting, and worker meeting) and have netted me some new mitts. Just thought I'd show them off...
Also, I'll show off one of the girls I tutor, Holly, who in addition to learning many new and wonderful things in our library, is also learning many new and wonderful things about knitting. Here she is with her first completed project, a lovely blue scarf.
Friday night a group of us went to Fribourg to see The Decemberists play. Fan-freaking-tastic show. The music was amazing, and I loved the way the band interacted. They really seemed to enjoy playing together... it reminded me of watching Zero 7 perform, in that regard. The venue (Fri-Son) was pretty small, and there were maybe a few hundred people there. I was surprised by the lack of a crush of people to the front, and we were able to stand right at the stage, leaning on the edge and enjoying the tunes.
Colin Meloy had a fun, be it a little offbeat, sense of humor, introducing a little 'ditty' about a double suicide a few songs in. During Billy Liar, the keyboardist had something of a false start, but instead of being detrimental to the show, it added to it as they began anew and CM sang while giggling. By the time the song was over, they were all obviously amused by the sloppy rendition, and CM threw out my favorite quote of the evening:
This show is like a lychee fruit; it's awkward to peel, it tastes weird, but ultimately, you really like it.
He also kept throwing out jokes about Swiss neutrality, but didn't get much of a response from the crowd. About halfway in, he decided to switch to cheese... "Cheese, cheese, what's something funny about cheese..." The drummer perked up at the mention of cheese and was like "It's really good.... that's not a joke. The cheese here is really good." To which everyone cracked up.
At the end of the show they staged a Swiss battle in the 1500's or something, with CM narrating as the rest of the band hung out in the crowd and 
grabbed people to play horsemen, chickens (including our own Caitlin and Melissa) and attackers (including Stefen, who was appropriately dressed in knickers and suspenders). To be perfectly honest, I'm still a little fuzzy on the whole thing, but I think the chickens won?
Great night, great show, and if you haven't had the privilege of being acquainted with the fabulous folky stylings of The Decemberists, you should go buy The Crane Wife. Now.
"Everybody had a good roof, and the cougars and bears were gone; the town had incandescent lights, planked streets, and a railroad. Harmonizing with these improvements, in a spirit of thanksgiving to the Creator, was proper and good. Every jot and tittle beyond that, every chasing after distinction and a backlog of money, was chaff and blowing wind; the dazzle of it blinded people, and the clamor of it deafened them. They were helpless, scared, and pretty well cultured, so they tightened the houses and raised cities as bulwarks, as suits of armor over suits of mail, to shield them from the pointy glance of heaven. On the scales they are lighter than a breath, all of them together."
- Annie Dillard, The Living
"It's hard to imagine, but there are more people living in slavery than at other times in history," the company said in a press statement, noting that an estimated 27 million people could be described as slaves today....
Today, slavery is less visible and less institutionalized than in the past, but, as the London-based lobby Anti-Slavery International never ceases to point out, it still exists in parts of South America, Africa and China as well in some European cities where prostitutes from Africa and Eastern Europe are trapped in forced unpaid labor.
So is it just imaginative movie marketing to link "Amazing Grace" to the campaign against modern slavery? Well, it is a cause that certainly needs help. And to those sniffing at the production company's "Amazing Change" campaign, Knight offered a sharp retort: "I hope that cynics who watch the film will recognize their fellow cynics."
Read Amazing Grace in the Life of William Wilberforce by John Piper (e-book in pdf format)
I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer, without anger or disputing.
1 Timothy 2:8
Tuesday we had a formal meal during which the question revolved around anger and forgiveness. The crux of the matter for many there was that they were angry at the church, and for whatever reason found Christians much more difficult to forgive than non-Christians. To be honest, I also feel a greater degree of anger towards someone who purports to represent God and then behaves awfully than someone who just behaves awfully on their own account.
Yesterday I met with one of my tutees, and she came in railing about her 'angry week'. Primarily, angry at the (North American) church for an apparent lack of regard for the environment, social justice and other issues, as well as being angry at the way so many answers get tied up neatly in a little bow when in fact the truth is much more complex.
Finally, last night I was talking with a friend about the behavior of some of the people she had been around, and she basically said "If I didn't know more about Christianity than these people and these attitudes, I would certainly not be a Christian."
These voices all belong to people who are committed Christians - people who definitely don't want to be a part of the problem or just sit around and whinge. Frankly, I'm angry too. And often I feel like more people should be angry. We should be royally pissed about the injustice and corruption in the world - and in the church. But then where do we go with it? It's too easy to become overwhelmed. The problem is too big. Do we give up? Stop attending church? Or more... stop believing in God?
I tend to try to break things down into what I can do. How do I love these people who are both my brothers and sisters in Christ as well as, in some ways, my enemies. We're all too practiced in turning on each other in righteous indignation over each other's faults, but where/how do we begin to start banding back together despite our differences? What place should anger take - to what end?
Personally, I don't know how to resolve it all. My sphere of influence is pretty small, and tackling the larger problem seems beyond me. I don't want to lose my passion for things I believe are good and important, but I want it to propel me towards positive action and not just leave me cynical and furious. So maybe it's a cop out, but the best thing I know to do at this point in my life is just pray. Pray for change, pray for forgiveness where I'm the problem, and pray for wisdom moving forward, both personally and as a member of the body of Christ.
I got online this morning to discover a link on my google home page in the 'How To' section titled How to French Kiss. I needed a laugh so I followed it, and was not disappointed. I think my favorite tips were:
Everyone seems to be on a quest for themelves these days. We hear the message of "be true to yourself" all around us on TV, in the movies, and from our friends. Psychology urges us to look within and 'find ourselves', touting such introspection as the key to unlocking a happy life. Authenticity is held up as the ultimate virtue. And part of me agrees - I, too, want to be 'real'. But what in the world does that mean?
Part of me has a pessimistic view of self - I am fallen and sinful and mess up a ton. In which case being true to myself is a recipe for disaster. But then part of me takes a more optimistic view of self as a creation of God that he himself calls 'very good'. So maybe I can somehow dig back, and then be true to that self.
But then I wonder, if I take seriously the biblical claim that "if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" (2 Cor 5:17) it doesn't flip everything on its head. If being authentic doesn't mean being true to myself, but instead being true to Christ. In a sense, behaving completely unnaturally and loving my enemy is the most authentic thing I can do. Maybe my 'newness' isn't mere wishful thinking, but ontological fact.
I don't know how it all works, and this certainly isn't a complete thought on the subject. Just something I'm thinking through. I'd love anyone else's thoughts....
I just came across this article in the opinion section of the International Herald Tribune by John Patrick Shanley. It was interesting, and I agree with him that we all too often succumb to a false dichotomy (absolutizing and embracing an either/or). Most people I know, myself included, talk a great deal about the fallacies of black and white thinking amidst the reality of so many grays, yet somehow there is a gap between our cognitive understanding of the tension of life and our seemingly deep seated desire for demarcating right and wrong in such a way that we can be assured that we are on the 'right' side. As he says,
There is a tendency in our time and perhaps throughout time to simplify. We all want it simple. We want to know what to do.
However, he perhaps is creating a false dichotomy of his own between doubt and certainty.
Doubt is not paralysis. Certainty is. Doubt keeps the doors and windows open. Belief is one room with no way out.
I would want to affirm the importance of doubt - as Christians we have all too often stifled honest questioning - but not at the expense of certainty. My certainty - my beliefs - do not lock me into a cell apart from the world, but instead open the world to my understanding in a richer way as I see the relationships between so many different systems and disciplines. I want to strive for an ever-increasing consistency between my beliefs/knowledge and the world around me, not to "be an overwhelming bounty of... conflicting theories." I want a worldview that coheres, and embracing absolute doubt works no better now than it did in the heyday of Enlightenment thinking. Even if we can think that way, we certainly can't live that way. Reality doesn't allow it.
Finally, I would agree with his statement that, "True spirituality is present, it's alive and observant", but not that "having a spiritual life is not about making up your mind once and for all". I don't want dogma that excludes reason, but nor can I embrace a spirituality without any certainty. I can't be so closed as to shut the door to evidence that conflicts with my beliefs, but I can certainly have confidence in my faith. True spirituality requires a greater referent and teleos than myself, and I don't know that I want to live a "life that emanates from [my] interior greatness." Frankly, my interior ain't all that great.
I should preface this by saying that I am coming from an egalitarian viewpoint. I don't diminish/attempt to eliminate the differences between men and women, but I would also say that distinction between the two doesn't necessitate a hierarchical outlook. Nor do I believe that Scripture demands such hierarchy. And when I see things like Bob had posted recently, I get frustrated and sad at what I believe to be an oppressive misuse of the Bible. And I've dug up the quote that I mentioned previously to include here. It is from a book called Creation and the Flood by Davis A. Young. Written in 1977, I can hope his view has 'evolved', but don't know where he stands on the issue today. I should also say that the book itself, apart from this section, was quite helpful at looking at a concordist position of creation from the perspective of a Christian geologist (a position he may no longer hold, however).
"Moses provides considerable detail in the account concerning the creation of Eve. If he did not intend the account to be understood as ordinary history, it is a bit perplexing as to why he should provide such detail...
The literal-historical interpretation that is presented above would seem to be supported by the Apostle Paul. Hence the Christian, whose every view is to be formed and framed by the words of Scripture, has an infallible interpretation of the Genesis account... Paul accepts a kind of subordination of woman to man. In the latter text (1 Timothy 2:12-13) he plainly indicates that in time sequence the female of the species appeared later than the male. In the former text (I Cor 11:8-9) he corroborates Moses' teaching that woman exists and was made for the purpose of supplementing the man. She is for the man...
There seems to be no way that an evolution could produce a first male human before a first female human... There is no temporal priority of either sex in evolution.
The evolutionistic view must also account for the stress which Scripture lays on the idea that woman is for the man. In what sense can this be true in evolution? Is there a sense in which the female gorilla is of and for the male? Does the male gorilla have metaphysical priority or superiority? In what sense could evolution lead to anything other than a pure equality between the sexes?"
In my view, there are several problems here, beginning with the assertion that anyone could have an infallible interpretation of pretty much anything, particularly a text as complex as Genesis. I'm not denying the existence of Truth, but I suspect we don't often have access to it in an infallible way. Also, I would strongly question his interpretation of Paul. To look at another point of view, you may want to read Greg's article titled Paul: Anti-Women? Anti-Sex? Ascetic? in which he exegetes 1 Corinthians 7 in what I find to be much more convincing way. Finally, I just plain have an emotional response to the idea that men are "metaphysically superior" to women. I don't believe that humans evolved from apes either, but I don't accept a metaphysical priority based on creation order as a good argument against it. I make no claims to possessing a vast reservoir of scientific knowledge, but I don't think science demands that kind of leap, either. There seem to be other, more compelling and more empirical, data to support the position.
If you are interested in reading more about the issue of women from a Christian perspective, some resources I would recommend are:
A couple of days ago I stumbled on this article from World Magazine in which Bono talks about the difference between grace and karma. It's a couple of years old, but I really love what he said and thought I'd post an excerpt here:
The interviewer, Mr. Assayas, begins by asking Bono, Doesn't he think "appalling things" happen when people become religious? Bono counters, "It's a mind-blowing concept that the God who created the Universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people, but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between Grace and Karma."
The interviewer asks, What's that? "At the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics—in physical laws—every action is met by an equal or an opposite one," explains Bono. "And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that. . . . Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff."
The interviewer asks, Like what? "That's between me and God. But I'd be in big trouble if Karma was going to finally be my judge," says Bono. "It doesn't excuse my mistakes, but I'm holding out for Grace. I'm holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the Cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don't have to depend on my own religiosity."
Then the interviewer marvels, "The Son of God who takes away the sins of the world. I wish I could believe in that."
"The point of the death of Christ is that Christ took on the sins of the world, so that what we put out did not come back to us, and that our sinful nature does not reap the obvious death," replies Bono. "It's not our own good works that get us through the gates of Heaven."
The interviewer marvels some more: "That's a great idea, no denying it. Such great hope is wonderful, even though it's close to lunacy, in my view. Christ has His rank among the world's great thinkers. But Son of God, isn't that farfetched?"
Bono comes back, "Look, the secular response to the Christ story always goes like this: He was a great prophet, obviously a very interesting guy, had a lot to say along the lines of other great prophets, be they Elijah, Muhammad, Buddha, or Confucius. But actually Christ doesn't allow you that. He doesn't let you off that hook. Christ says, No. I'm not saying I'm a teacher, don't call me teacher. I'm not saying I'm a prophet. I'm saying: 'I'm the Messiah.' I'm saying: 'I am God incarnate.' . . . So what you're left with is either Christ was who He said He was—the Messiah—or a complete nutcase. . . . The idea that the entire course of civilization for over half of the globe could have its fate changed and turned upside-down by a nutcase, for me that's farfetched."
Currently Listening To: Stabilo
I was recently at Bob's blog and saw this gem of a post. I would love to say that I can't believe that this kind of mentality towards women is still around, but sadly, I find it none too difficult to buy.
Over the last several months I've been doing some reading on Genesis and creation, and was stunned to find an argument against the evolution of humankind that went something to the effect of "As no other animal has evolved with the male of the species possessing a metaphysical superiority over the female, humans obviously were a special creation". I'll have to find the book and get a more direct quote before referencing the source here...
Karryn read about the topic of forgiveness from NT Wright’s new book Evil and the Justice of God this morning during the prayer meeting, and it got me thinking about some of the twists and turns I’ve taken in life. I’ve spent the majority of the last 30 years careening between extremes of rebellion and trying desperately to ‘fit’ the Christian mold, with nothing really working to make me feel like a worthwhile human being. It wasn’t until I came to l’abri that things changed in a permanent way, and as Karryn spoke I flashed back to a conversation I had with Greg at the beginning of my tenure here during which I was railing against God and the idea of forgiveness. I held tightly to my shame, and felt like I deserved it and had no right to forgive myself. To which Greg responded “Well, who gave you the right to condemn yourself?” A fairly earth shattering question, that. It pinpointed the problem – I was playing God in my own life. In some way I felt that if I continued to judge myself I could eliminate the need for a savior. I could both set and pay my own penalty. Ultimate pride. Ultimate despair.
As I was pondering this morning, I thought about how many people come through our doors staggering under the weight of shame. And how many people I know in general, Christian or not, who struggle with the choices they’ve made and how to live with them. And how poorly the church at large communicates the grace of God. We focus so much on sin that we tend to make people feel like worthless jerks instead of the infinitely valuable creation of God that they are.
Last night we had a ‘helper appreciation’ fiesta, crowding into my living room for a special treat of sushi and noodles crafted by Gwen. She, Tori and Julian spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen preparing everything, which was much appreciated by Kay, Thomas and I as it meant we could take the afternoon off and not cook. We had everything in abundance (including wasabi, which left most of us teary-eyed) and stuffed ourselves to capacity. Afterwards, we settled in for a movie, The Prestige, which was excellent (how can you miss when Christian Bale is involved?), and somehow managed to even find room for chocolate.
I just started knitting my first pair of socks, ever. I decided I really needed a project that didn't require seaming, as I have several completely knit projects - including a cute hoodie - that I would love to wear but that I can't seam to force myself to put together. Knitting needles, I love. Sewing needles, not so much. I also have an aversion to double pointed needles, and have avoided socks and gloves for that reason, but with the discovery of the fabulous book Socks Soar on Two Circular Needles by Cat Bordhi, I am now prepared to knit all sorts of tiny tubes without stressing out. Her technique also works well on sleeves - a technique I'm currently using on a new seamless (that's right - knit in a single piece) sweater for Karryn. Hurrah!
Currently Knitting To: Josh Ritter's The Animal Years CD
Modified by Blogcrowds
