The Harsh Mistress

All together now, let's breathe a sigh of combined relief and just a tinge of sadness. As Mrs. Bennet might have said, "President-Elect Obama! How well that sounds!" Just typing it out gives me a little thrill, and I've been celebrating with champagne. Have you ever noticed how champagne tastes better when you're not guzzling it in a gibbering wreck on the couch, but cheering progress and a new direction for your country with your friends?

On the other hand, it's looking like Prop 8 may have passed in California. I'm consoling myself by guzzling wine on the couch. Champagne and wine do not go together very well, surprisingly. Something to do with the bubbles, I think. I'm also consoling myself with the hope that the Obama Administration ("Mr. Bennet, the White House has been let at last!") will appoint U.S. Supreme Court justices who will find that the gender of married people has no business being a legal issue. I don't see how it's ANY of my business whom other people choose to marry, although you may call me old-fashioned if I state here and now that I'm opposed to inter-species weddings. Other than that, go nuts.

In other news, it's NaKniSweMo. I decided to work on my Salina this month in the lovely Felted Tweed I bought just before the Social Pressure Experiment began. To be honest, it was that particular purchase along with another tumble that prompted the Social Pressure Experiment, at least on my side. And please will someone buy up the 25%-off Felted Tweed at Purlescence this week before I start to make excuses?

Anyway. Salina. In the last 5 days, I have trucked through the bottom-edge decreases and yesterday cruised into the increases:

For those playing at home, it's about 300 yards in and 7.5" long.

I'm contemplating bust darts for this, but I haven't decided yet. And I'm not there yet, not having a torso the size of a pixie's. Anyway. I was teaching the Younger Relatively Normal about multiplication and division last night, and seized upon the brilliant idea of teaching him by way of gauge. Aren't I clever? We measured 4" on the tape measure, counted up the stitches, and divided the number by 4 to get 6.75.

Blink.
Blink blink.

Let's take this opportunity to teach Younger R-N some more basics of division, shall we?
Number of stitches around: 210.
Number of stitches in an inch: 6.75.
210/6.75 = ~31".

Now, let's measure Tika's true waist: 34".

Panic.

While I am slimming down pretty quickly from the weight I gained eating tons of delicious Indian food at the Sanatarium, I am unlikely to shed THREE INCHES from my waist in the next three weeks. And let's not forget our friend Positive Ease. Or her cousin, Wearing Shirts Under Potentially Itchy Sweaters.

When I got home, I pulled out my needle gauge with a sense of trepidation. Sure enough, I had blithely ignored the instructions to go up a needle size after finishing the seed stitch border. This morning I woke up, pulled out the ball winder, fixed myself a strong cup of coffee (helpful after an evening of guzzling wine and champagne, see above), and went to work.

Sigh.

And yet, there is a positive note in all of this. Younger R-N learned multiplication, along with several other choice phrases he's never ever under pain of death allowed to repeat to his parents. Or his sister. Or anyone, really.

It's only day 6, and there is time to recover so I can finish the sweater before Dec. 1.

And then there's this: