etc.

Last year, I made three resolutions for 2004: no library fines, be a good worker, and write. This day, being the last day of December, I am tallying up the personal balance sheet, and I’d say I’ve done alright on two out of three. I didn’t quite get through the year with no library fines, but I consider that the $3.60 I’ve handed over to the public library to be an improvement over last year’s $26.70 bill. And it’s leaps and bounds ahead of the sorts of fines I used to pay as a full-time student (a certain $120 bill, paid on the eve of my M.A. convocation, springs to mind). So, perhaps 2005 will be the year of the coveted $0.00 library bill.

As for being a good worker, well, I try to approach that one as less of an annual resolution and more of a lifetime work ethic thing, and, that being the case, I think I continue to fare reasonably well. But then that is not such a terribly difficult thing to do when you believe in what you do for a living, so I’m a bit lucky there.

Write. Right. Not quite. The sum of most of my writing for 2004 is right here, on this very site, and that’s not quite what I had in mind unfortunately. I did a wee bit of professional writing, not much to speak of, mostly some polishing up of pieces I started in 2003. And the novel? It lays dormant. The ideas continue to mill and percolate, but there has been no progress whatever, good intentions notwithstanding. Updates on that as progress warrants.

Right.

This year, I’m irresolute. There are only vague good intentions: to eat healthier, live healthier, clean out the litter box more regularly, get a handle on the fiscal situation, read well, write well, help, smile at strangers, maintain equilibrium, and strive for balance. 2004 has been a good year, I’m mostly aiming for more of the same.

I hope that 2005 is good to you.

The Griffin and Sabine Trilogy, Nick Bantock

If you like postcards, stamps, mail art, and beautiful correspondence, you will love these books (the trilogy: Griffin & Sabine, Sabine’s Notebook, and The Golden Mean). Griffin is a postcard designer in London, and Sabine is a nature and stamp illustrator in the South Pacific, and these three books chronicle their extraordinary correspondence in the most delightfully tactile volumes I think I’ve ever held. There is romance, intrigue, and just plain voyeurism at times (you’re not just reading their mail, you’re literally plucking letters from envelopes that are attached to the pages of the books — delightful!), and I’m now hopelessly in love with these two and am, at the moment, taking my time with the second trilogy (The Gryphon, Alexandria, and The Morning Star). I don’t want it to end.

Doing this annual roundup at the end of the year provides a bit of perspective, and while this is probably of interest to no one but me, I know you’ll humour me. [updated later to account for last-minute reading!]

number of books read in 2004: 36
percentage of improvement over 2003: -31
percentage of improvement over 2002: -18
percentage of improvement over 2001: 63
average read per month: 3
average read per week: 0.7
number read in worst month: 0 (June & July)
number read in best month: 10 (January)
percentage by male authors: 67
percentage by female authors: 33
fiction as percentage of total: 50
non-fiction as percentage of total: 50
percentage of total liked: 75
percentage of total disliked: 25
percentage read on recommendation: 39
percentage of recommendations liked: 100

I might be poky about delivering on my promises, but you can’t accuse me of not delivering. This here is the completed Big Sack from Stitch n’ Bitch (the first) that I finished about a month ago and have already worn about a dozen times. I used Natural Wool in a pretty standard brown; I opted for a wee roll neckline rather than the turtle (pictured in the book); I mattress-stitched the hell out of those raglan sleeves (and it looks great — thanks to all who suggested it); and cabling just beats the pants right off of stockinette.

Would I do anything differently? Oh yes. I’d probably start by making a smaller size (I made the large when I should have made the medium), and I’d increase the length of the body and shorten the arms. Did you see the fold on that sleeve? Here’s what it would look like if I unfolded it. Regardless, this is probably my favourite sweater. Warm, roomy, and very cozy, not much to complain about there.

Because I need to assuage my own guilt for all the knitting I haven’t done for the mister, allow me to show you what I have done. First up was a pair of Fuzzyfeet to keep his toes warm in our very cold house. Here’s a picture of the slippers in their pre-felted state, here’s one post-felting, and here’s one of the felty-goodness doing its job. I used the yarn the pattern called for (in a tweedy brown shade called Sable) and was quite pleased with the end product (my first felting outing). Our washing machine, however, is not a good felting machine since the “hot” cycle is merely lukewarm, which resulted in me having to pour steaming water in myself, making the process take about 4 times longer than it should have. The mister assures me that it was worth it.

Also, just in time for the deep freeze that set in about a month ago, a toque. I used two strands of Stahl Sche Wolle Green-Line and a barely modified version of Stephanie’s Silk Garden Beanie pattern.

Who loves ya, mister?

Oryx and Crake, Margaret Atwood

Look at me, all crazy with the reading. Although this one is a re-read so won’t be on the annual index, if I ever get to it.

So, the first time I tried reading this book, I was unsuccessful. That didn’t sit well with me since there aren’t many books that I start and don’t finish, so when I saw it on the new audiobooks list in the library catalog, I grabbed it and gave it another go. I read it to the very end this time, and almost found myself wishing I hadn’t bothered. Much of the same criticism as the first time around, which I won’t belabour, so go read the first review if you really want to know what I think (hint: it isn’t positive).

A Million Little Pieces, James Frey

This is a difficult book to read, even if you aren’t easily turned off by bodily excretions, other sundry expurgations, and general physical torment. James Frey enters a treatment centre at the age of 23, after a decade of alcohol and drug abuse, and is essentially told that another dose of crack or another alcoholic binge would kill him. The book recounts his experiences during the recovery process, the people he befriends, his ailing relationship with his parents, and his new relationship with a fellow addict. As difficult as it is to criticize a memoir for underplaying some key elements, I found myself looking for a little less shock-factor and a little more fleshing-out of things like backstory, context and motivation. Apart from that, it’s a good read, if only as a cautionary tale. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

Things get busy around here and I just about forget this virtual place of mine.

No one does Christmas like our parents do Christmas. We had Eve dinner at my parents house, Christmas brunch also at my parents house, Christmas dinner at the mister’s parents house and Boxing Day was mostly cookies, biscotti, and sundry leftovers from all those meals. I’ve been doing some reading, DVD-watching, and no knitting at all, on account of all the rushed gift-knitting that got crammed in over the past twelve days. I sort of promised myself that I wouldn’t pick up the needles until after this mini-vacation was over, to allow the fingers some rest, but I’m already getting antsy, and the yarn jonesing has already begun and I’ll probably be knitting again before the day is out.

Happy day after Boxing Day.

I get a whole lot of pleasure from holding paper in my hand, which, for me, is not at all in conflict with being a web/tech geek. You might recall that a few months ago, I drew up a hasty knitting needle inventory spreadsheet, and while it was nice to know that I wouldn’t have to sift through the actual needles to figure out whether or not I had the correct sizes for a particular project, it was still pretty crazymaking to have to wait until I got home to look at the spreadsheet or scramble to find a computer so I could check my website before knowing for sure whether my needle needs were already taken care of. So, I redid the inventory (try to overlook the bad scan, would you?) to appropriate print specifications (i.e.: small, portable, mounted on cardstock), and if you look really closely you will also see that I trimmed down a page protector for the wee slip of paper, so that the detritus in my bag wouldn’t undermine its integrity. Now I have my entire inventory on hand for quick reference, and I’m positively gleeful about it.

Also, happy Winter solstice.

Life of Pi, Yann Martel

This might just be my favourite book of 2004 (read in 2004, that is. It was published in 2002 and won the Booker Prize that year), and that really doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’ve hardly read at all this year (compared to previous years; watch for the paltry roundup of 2004 reading coming any day now). The book received a whole lot of press the year it was published, so I won’t get into recapping the basic premise, because you’ve probably heard it all before. Suffice to say that Pi Patel is a charming, imaginative, thoroughly absorbing, and eminently untrustworthy narrator who has a sharp mind, keen inner life, and fascinating philosophical ideas and ideals. This book left me hungry for a sequel.