So, while knitting is a relatively socially acceptably crafty hobby at this point, I am not sure scrapbooking is there.  I will admit that I carry my knitting into professional meetings, but I don't flash around the fact that I scrapbook.  It's not cool.  No, really, it's not.  Ok, perhaps you were not actually arguing with me.  Oh well.

Anyhow, I just returned from a trip to the Salt Lake City area, and I was excited to go (for a work conference) in large part because I thought it was a trip to the promised land of scrapbooking.  Sad to say, the national epidemic of store-closing seems to have hit SLC just like everywhere else, so I went to an Archiver's and Pebbles in my Pocket, bought what I thought wouldn't get bent too badly in the overhead bin, and went sight-seeing instead.  My Project Life spread from this week is pretty much all about the trip:

Now, if scrapbooking is uncool, Project Life must be double plus uncool.  For non-scrapbookers, it is scrapbooking.  For scrapbookers, it is just sticking photos in pockets.  Where is the art?  Where is the craft?  Like my kids care.  They don't.  Anyhow, for you slack crafters out there, you can do this.  Yes you can.  Round some photo corners, print out some cards explaining what is in said photos, call it a day in twenty minutes.  Do it once a week.  At the end of the year, you have a big fat album documenting what you did all year, in the order that you did it.  You are welcome.

I know we have only known each other for these two posts here, but by now you are gathering that I like to do anything with sock yarn other than make socks with it.  This is, as it happens, the Sock Yarn Sweater from Hannah Fettig, made with Caper Sock yarn from String Theory (I would tell you the color, but raise your hand if you think I kept the paper from the skeins).  I finished it in May except for the sleeves.  Sleeves.  I mean, there simply is nothing good to say about them.  Finished, however, and in a size 2T (the pattern goes from 0-6 months to size 16, and if you're planning to make this, I would size up a little, because that 2T is on my 16-month-old, and he is average-sized on a good day).  Slack factor:  high. This thing is knit top-down and in the round, and had very little shaping.

An introduction to my den of slack.

The truth is that I am a lazy crafter.  I like easy knitting patterns that do not require me to focus or seam or, I mean please, twist strands of yarn together to form some sort of design.  I've spent ten years now avoiding learning how to set in a sleeve on a sewn shirt.  It is unlikely that you will be seeing any Pinterest-ready photos around these here parts.  I may not always list what yarn I used in a sweater because there is a realistic chance that I purchased it in 1999.  What this blog is here to do is to motivate me, and anyone who stumbles in, to get some projects done.  Done is better than perfect, as always, and any dent I can make in my supplies means room for more supplies.

Socks for the fundamentally lazy.

Do these socks have feet?  Of course they do not.  There is a reason for that.  They are not socks.  Years ago, I asked a sales person at a yarn store about where to start, sockwise, and she suggested that I would need a period of peace and quiet to myself to do things like "turn heels."  Oh, ok.  Pardon me while I buy sock yarn but do not knit socks with it.  This is a leg warmer "pattern" from Oat Couture, knitted in String Theory yarn from Blue Hill, Maine.  I say "pattern" because, unlike, say, socks, all these things require is memorizing a four-line repeat and sticking some ribbing on each end.  No shaping, no sizing -- they are like sleeves in my fantasy world where sleeves do not require me me to count rows and increases and then seam them on to something afterwards.  Are green leg warmers a little witchy with a black outfit?  Did my oldest jaw-drop and ask, "wait, did you wear those to work today?"  Sure.  Guess what?  They were quick, they are finished, they are warm, and I almost never wear pants.  Get used to them.