Not much knitting, yesterday, but the sleeve of Ed’s Gardening Sweater must have advanced an inch or so.
You’ll have seen that Franklin has a pattern in the new VK, which must be scheduled for the doormat this very week if I’m lucky. There’s glory for you, beyond even being clever and funny and wonderful.
But I am worried about his observations about sweaters for men – that they should have not much ease, and be tapered from shoulder to waist.
I suspect he’s right on both counts. That’s what comes of being an art historian (his major at Harvard, I believe) and learning to look. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
Consider again the two pictures I posted the other day – Thomas-the-Elder’s ill-fitting Brownstone, and Joe’s much more successful Grandson Sweater. I think
’s point is made.
And my anxiety, of course, is about the Gardening Sweater. It’s not tapered. It
probably has too much ease. Ed is, like Franklin himself, short of stature,
trim and fit. I’ve missed the boat. Franklin
Maybe one wants a bit of ease in the garden. This isn’t a sweater for the office, even on dress-down Friday. And anyway, there’s nowhere to go from here but on.
Thank you for the tip, CSJ0423, about the Big Rubble. I like it a lot. I don’t think it will do in the present case, because the yarn I’ve got is so fine. Not that we can’t plug our own gauge into any schematic, these days. But I think I’ll keep this one up my sleeve as an excuse for actually buying some of Jared’s Shelter yarn one day soon. I did buy and print the “Boxy” pattern yesterday.
Helen fetched Archie from the airport last night, and soon both will be gone. We met the Polish cleaning woman yesterday – young, pretty, business-like. I feel hopeful, in a battered sort of way.
I have a half-feeling – can anyone help me here? – that my favourite cartoonist, Roz Chast, once did a page in the New Yorker of cartoons which showed an energetic middle-aged woman swooping down on her aged parents and putting things to rights. The only one I can specifically remember, and this isn’t guaranteed, had the parents looking abashed while the daughter admonished them: “A whole drawer full of ball-point pens, and none of them work!”
I’ve tried looking through the Chasts on Google images, without success.
Helen will take Archie to school at midday and then go on to the airport, thence to