Here I Yam

I couldn't keep posting at How Not To Write A Novel when I stopped writing a novel, because there's really not much more to say about it after that, but one has to have someplace to discuss one's interests, doesn't one, and I only know two people in real life who I can talk to about reading and only one and one-half people who I can talk to about knitting, and in any case I'm not too crazy about real-life people, let's be honest, living in New York as I do and riding the subway with hundreds of them every single day of my life, and out of a couple of hundred people there's always one who hasn't showered that morning and another one who farts.

Where was I? Oh, right.

So from the ashes of How Not To Write A Novel rises ratty blue stockings, a title I chose because it conflates my current interest in knitting with my perennial interest in reading. I've always liked the designation "blue stocking" because I was born to be an old maid librarian who keeps twenty cats, but added "ratty" because I'm a married library school dropout with only one cat, so I'm clearly not very good at it.

Reading: To The Lighthouse (Virginia Woolf)
Knitting: Kid Merino baby bootees (sage green)
Cat: Cranky, because it's winter again out of fricking nowhere and he hates being cold.