Ninth Week

Eighth week is something that should never be discussed. By ninth week, however, I have usually settled into the mindset of inevitable sleep deprivation and overwork. Ninth week is routine.

Last week after I finished M~th, I did something amazing.


I resurrected Sarcelle. I had tossed it aside because my Addi Turbos were not sharp enough for the yarn. I twist my backwards loop cast-on stitches in the direction that is more difficult to knit, so I was going absolutely crazy trying to get across row six of the pattern. I am on Knitpicks needles now, and it’s quite a relief. Some projects improve with age, and I think this is one of them. The pattern gets more and more beautiful as you go along.

It’s is fairly simple and easy to memorize, with just six rows to keep track of. The whole thing moves over by one repeat every thirty-six rows, or every six pattern repeats. Accordingly, I am nearly 4/9 of the way through the body section. On Thursday when I started, I was only 2/9 through. I am hoping that I have enough time to finish it by the end of the quarter, but I’m sure that my hopes and dreams will be unceremoniously shattered by the stress and sleeplessness of finals.

I have also started Monkey with the yarn from Cait!


The yarn has decided to pool almost perfectly in this pattern. It’s kind of strange, but I’ve decided to keep it. It will be interesting to see if the other skein matches…


The colors in both projects are a little washed out from a combination of sunlight and flash.

For some reason, I’ve been getting very painful headaches in the last week. I think the last time I’ve had one this bad was in high school. It’s not enough to incapacitate me, although I did skip out on my work study today in pursuit of a half hour hour hour and a half two hour two hour and fifteen minute nap. To simplify that statement, I was sleeping pretty deeply and literally could not wake myself up.

I did have an interesting half-waking dream about the coffee shop going out of business, and falling down a really really steep sand dune. I slipped off and was holding on to the very top, but it was crumbling. There was no dry sand for some reason, so it was easier to get a grip on it. I managed to climb back up, but it was worse than a falling dream. Here, I had the anticipation that it could *turn into* a falling dream, and only my mental capacity to hold onto the theoretical sand dune was keeping me alive. The most frustrating part? My sister then showed up at the top, jumped off, slid down the side of the dune, and landed safely in the water.

What a showoff.

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