might you?

Might you be interested to know that a certain schmookwook is going to be finished very soonly? I meanly soonly soonly.

And might you be amused with this?

Places to find Three Irish Girls, other than Ireland of course. That is too obvious.

(Our peeps will thank ye for visiting the above link.)

beliefs

Something my husband believes: everything is improved by a hot bath. Got the flu? Take a bath. Hangnails? Bath. Toothache? Get in the tub, man.

Stay in there until you get nice and pruney In fact, stay in so long that people worry about you and knock on the door to make sure you haven't drowned.

Something my three year old believes: braids, ponytails, pigtails, and barrettes are products sent by Satan himself to torture humankind. Nevertheless, hair must be waist length and preferably unbrushed.

Something my eight year old believes: this is the worst day of his life. I am, in fact, ruining his life as I type this. Oh wait? Was that? Hold on a moment...

Sorry, just checking to see if my eight year old was in fact, dead on the ground from the want of a Nintendo DS.

(Still breathing, but barely.)

Something my six year old believes: bedrooms are best left as though a cyclone ripped through them, strewing debris, shrapnel, and detritus. Clean bedrooms are sent directly from Satan to torture humankind.

Something I believe: it's time to knit.

so much for that idea.

So much for being the perfect Yarnista.

So much for being the perfect employer.

So much for being the perfect mother, daughter, wife, friend, human being.

I give up.

Who wants to give up with me?

Because it can never be perfect. Your beautiful daughter can look like this ten minutes before trick or treating:

Serene. Perfect.

And moments later, be upset and practically in tears because someone stepped on and ripped the tulle skirt that you sewed by hand after visiting two stores and taking time out of the middle of your work day to find the right elastic thread.

And then moments later, rip off the veil and hand her bouquet over to someone else because she wants to run faster than her get up will allow while snagging candy from the neighbors.

So much for the serene, perfect bride. (And let's not forget the giant horsedog that almost ruined this outfit ten times over with just her very existence.)

So much for the idea of being the perfect hostess who graciously and with nary a stray eyebrow hair welcomes 20 guests into her yarn studio on a crisp autumnal afternoon.

The guests themselves were hilarious, kind, and lovely. They had a spirit of adventure -- many of them had traveled a long way to place themselves in the hands of a woman they'd never met.

Me, on the other hand? I had many out-of-place eyebrow hairs as we worked until the very last moment getting things ready.

I dictated a brownie quotient to each attendee. "I am not taking any of these home! Eat more! You're not eating enough! Eat at least four more!"

How's that for a nice hostess? Forcing her guests to eat homemade baked goods. I'm sure Martha Stewart does that all the time. Welcome to my home in the Hamptons. HURRY UP AND EAT MORE. NO, THAT'S NOT ENOUGH. MORE. HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF? SIT IN YOUR SEAT AND EAT, DING DANG IT.

(I'm sorry, hilarious, kind, and lovely knitters. I'm sorry that I was neurotic and had messy eyebrows and forced you to eat my brownies.)

Despite the lack of perfection in any area of my life, I had a lovely weekend, because I've decided to give up being perfect. Because ultimately, Miss B is not going to remember how perfect her bride costume was. Only that I made it and that she liked it. And my lovely workshop attendees are (hopefully) not going to remember the forced consumption of baked goods, just that they had a fun time at a yarn studio one Saturday afternoon in October.

The yarn, on the other hand? That's still going to have to be perfect.

Sorry.

two pans of brownies...

...and three loaves of pumpkin bread in the oven for tomorrow's studio tour and workshop. If nothing else, the snacks will be good!

a bad lookbook is forever.

So says my friend Kurt. And Andy. They both say it.

When you see the new lookbook, you are going to have to wipe saliva off your keyboard. (I could be a teensy bit biased...) I've seen the first layouts, and they are fantastic.

The pain of being kept waiting for the lookbook? It'll be gone in sixty seconds. But the pain from a bad lookbook, one that is hurried and sloppy? That's forever.

We are going to have a small number of lookbooks printed, mostly for local yarn shops and their customers. The digital version will be available with a nifty e-zine viewer, where you can turn pages, zoom in and out, and interact with images more than you've been able to in the past.

If I know you as well as I think I do, some of you are going to want a printed copy. You don't have an LYS that carries our yarn near you, or you're one of those people who likes to physically hold something in your hand.

We need to know if there's enough interest to make the printed version available to the public. If we were to print them, we would have a pre-sale so we would know how many copies to make. (As it turns out, my hubs does not want 1,000 extra copies of the lookbook in our basement! Fancy that!) The cost for the printed edition would be in the neighborhood of $5, but you would also receive a $5 coupon to use on any future order. (Lookbooks, it turns out, are quite expensive to print!)

What say you? (This is not a commitment to buy anything, just an interest survey.)