Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Talking Tuesday: Dwelling


Right. So Peter King and The Antimodern Condition.  I think what he has to say about the antimodern condition is a lot of what I've been writing about these last few years--the need for community, the need for stability, traditions, groundedness, a lack of novelty, a deep inhabitation and remembrance of the past. 


From the book: 

"We can see the world either as a process of change or as a point of acceptance: it can be transgression or accommodation, movement or stasis, harmony or displacement.  To create change is to displace, to move ourselves away from where we currently are.  It is where we reject the idea of keeping ourselves in place and seek to keep moving.  We forget that we dwell and seek instead to transgress.  We see virtue in movement and change and we repudiate the static point.  Yet where we keep moving, when we stay in transit, we can never be sure of where we are. 

But to dwell is to recognise that we are points of being rather than processes of movement.  We are fixed points in the world, existing within a web of relations.  We are rooted and connected through well-worn ruts of meaning.  And we seek to maintain these and persist with them and we do so precisely because they keep us fixed.  We do not wish to be pulled away from our place, to be uprooted or to be taken out of those ruts we know so well.  If we are uprooted, then we become displaced and disoriented and our connections with others become strained.  So we do not seek to break new ground, but instead we relish the anchor, the foundation, the solidity of the known; we know our place, and the meanings that this exerts on us are palpable and help to ground us.


This notion of being in place is threatened by modernity and the chase for progress.  As we have seen, progress insists that we set ourselves apart from the world.  We seek to improve our condition and we refuse to accept what we have now as anything other than transient and contingent.  Nothing is therefore beyond transgression.  We believe in our own perfectability and so cannot accept the boundaries of our current life.  We always want better and believe that achievement is possible.  The desire—the need—for transgression inherent in modernity precludes stability.  There is no one place, but a series of temporary holdouts from where we plan our next move.  What we lose in this desire for transgression is our connection with the world.  We forget the closeness, the openness we have to the world and which it has for us.  Our loss is one of balance, the ability to remain level with what is around us." (4-5)


In order to inhabit a premodern (or antimodern) mindset, we need to stop glorifying change and embrace stasis--to acknowledge that our lives have limits, and that we must live within those boundaries.  We need to stop our anxious striving and accept things as they are.  It is to acknowledge that we are individuals within a closed system, and that we have a specific place and function within that system.  We do not exist as islands.  We are part of an interconnected web with the environment, our fellow man, and ourselves, and to deny that, to embrace progress as the only virtue, to constantly seek change, is to be at odds with all that is normative about the world.  


Writes King (emphasis in original):

…in looking for what is absent and hoping for something different from what we now have, we forget what it is we do have.  Instead what we have now is taken for granted; we see it as too ordinary and seek to replace it with the extraordinary, to replace the common with the designed.  We forget why we have these ordinary things in our rush for the new and different, but, in doing so, we end up with rather less than we had hoped for.  Because our striving is boundless and we continually struggle to reach the next rung up the ladder, we never have what we hope for, but neither do we fully use what we have. We fail to see the virtues of the things in front of us because we are looking so far away. (101)


The antimodern condition is to acknowledge the messiness of life, to keep one's feet planted firmly on the ground, and seek contentment in and fully use what has been given by God already.  I know these are hard concepts to truly embrace and understand, particularly in our consumerist and commodified society which fetishizes the novel and the trendy.  The consumer model is designed to make everyone feel two steps behind, to seek change and novelty, to be blind to the things already in one's possession.  I'm going to try and take King's ideas in, let them curl under my skin, root down in me.  I want to remove the scales from my eyes to see the material blessings in my home, to be content with what I have, with the life I lead, to keep the past ever before me, and to seek creative occupation that acknowledges my place in the world.  I will have to work at changing the language I use when I talk and think about material things, and how I relate to others.  I think there is much value in what has passed before, and we can learn much from it, particularly in How to Live.  It is a peculiar characteristic of the anxious post-modern age that the past is forgotten, that we must forever forge new paths through the woods, and learn anew the ways of doing. 


I fear I have summarized King's ideas badly, but there is so much meat in his short tome that it was hard to condense everything down to a few paragraphs.  I appreciate his articulation of the anxieties of the post modern world--sometimes it helps to have someone else say, yes, the discomfort you feel about our age, there's something to it.  I realize that a lot of it is our own fallen condition, and King doesn't acknowledge the role of God or of religion in mitigating the modern condition, and I think is one of the shortfalls of his book.  My other complaint about the book is that there are portions of it that made me feel as though I'd walked into discussion that had been going on for some time and missed the salient argument, as King spends a not insignificant portion of the book arguing with other philosophers who've written on the topic.  Where the book shines, however, is when King sets aside the academic pedantics and simply speaks about his topic.

Perhaps this is all a bit of navel-gazing by a Westerner in a comfortable chair, and perhaps some of my readers will be scratching their heads about now, wondering what I'm on about with this topic.  I admit to possessing an overly analytic mind, and it is hard for me to simply do things without thinking categorically about them in some way.  I think it is important to know the old ways of doing and being, to be rooted where we are, and be content.

Monday, September 29, 2014

Beware Shirting in Sheep's Clothing...or something

Earlier this summer, I ran across some 100% cotton shirting in aqua gingham.  It was on sale for less than $5/yard, and I've had a hard time finding gingham that doesn't have polyester in it (which is nice for body, but makes me sweat in summer).  I had an Anne Adams dress pattern from the mid-1950s that I wanted to try, and the pattern line art even featured a gingham type pattern, so I knew these two should go together.  The fabric arrived, and it was so soft!  It was also very thin.  Like tissue thin.  Which is great for a July dress, but I was a little concerned about sewing with it given that almost all my garment sewing experience up to now has been with mid-to-bottom weight cottons.  


Turns out I was right to be.  This dress almost did me in.  I nearly threw it in the corner so many times, and wanted to scratch my eyes out at almost every stage of the sewing process.  The pattern itself is fine, and pretty easy to follow--the only thing I would change on a future iteration would be to shorten the bodice by about 1/2" or so, but that is minor.  


The fabric wanted to pucker and gather on every single seam, and I unless I held the fabric taut-taut-taut for every inch of the stitching, the finished seams were a disaster.  This was particularly challenging on the yoke piece, as it was cut on the bias and wanted to s--t--r--e--t--c--h like a crazy cat. I tried shorter stitches, longer stitches, nothing helped.  I feel like I sewed every seam at least twice. I probably should have figured out how to use my walking foot, but at that point, I just wanted to get the dumb thing finished.  Even the hand sewing on this fabric was frustrating because it was so thin. 

Proof that I don't edit my photos much--pink rubber bouncy ball from the kids on the back patio.
 I did have a bit of trouble pattern matching, but I tried to make it count where it showed the most (on the front skirt part), and I think it isn't too bad on the back.  I think I prefer patterned fabrics that don't require matching--my frustration threshold for such things is super low right now.  I set the zipper in by hand because I couldn't see fighting with my machine over a side zip, which are perilous under the best of circumstances!  It went in okay, but the stitches are a little more visible than I had planned.  Oh well.  As another sewing blogger noted--hand stitches aren't meant to be perfect!


Now for the good.  The fit is decent, and aside from the bodice length (and crazy dress length--again!  I had to trim 3" off the bottom, and still have a 3" hem), I like how it looks.  I think it would be fun with a red belt!  It probably would look better with some foundation garments, but that would negate the breeziness of it for extreme summer heat, so I'm glad it is at least passable without them.  I wish I could push this fabric through the screen so you could feel it!  It is amazingly soft.


I think the top could be made into a decent blouse too.  I love the sleeve construction, as it gives more ease of movement than some of my other kimono sleeve garments.  I like that almost all the seams are encased neatly, and that the yoke part is self-faced.  I like the button tab detail at the collar, and I like the unusual shape of the pockets (which were actually quite easy when it came down to it).  


I'll just be more careful about my fabric weight on the next go-round.  I'm already scheming another version, featuring some vintage novelty print fabric I have in my stash with geisha girls!  It is a 1 yard piece, so I can't get more than the bottom part of the bodice out of it (or the contrast yoke + pockets), but I have some coordinating Free Spirit solid colored fabric that will do nicely, I think.   


In any case, a good test garment for the pattern, and I think this dress will do quite nicely for next summer.  We have had a brief return of summery weather these last few days, so I've even been able to squeak a few wearings out.  

Dress: Anne Adams 4986
Belt: second hand from MIL
Earrings: from my gram
Shoes: trusty Softspots via ebay

Sunday, September 28, 2014

WIWS: Florence and the Frankendress

Doing the FLAP thing.


So.  This dress.  I almost didn't blog it, because I wasn't at all sure I liked it.  It is the dress I thought would be the block for many iterations to come, but when I finished it, and tried it on, I was a little meh.  The bust darts were too high and about 1" too long (Christine Haynes must design for much younger women with much perkier, uh, assets, than this elderly multigravitas), plus the silhouette wasn't quite what I was expecting.  Some of that is my own bloated self at the moment, and some of it is my skewed expectations based on pattern art (which features heavily corseted women).  I'm sure this dress would have a similar shape were I wearing appropriate foundation garments. 
But I've worn it three days now, and have made a few tweaks, tried a few different stylings, and I think I like it now!  There are definitely things I'll do differently on a future iteration, but this pattern combo has possibilities.


Construction details: I used an Emery bodice, that I redrafted to have kimono sleeves and a square neckline.  I probably should have gone up a size on the bodice, as I had to remove both sets of waist darts, and the bodice *just* fits across the bust.  The finished garment measurements as listed on the pattern don't really align with reality (something I should have figured out from Tasha's many posts on the Emery bodice, but live and learn).  I should have known about the bust darts too, also based on Tasha's observations, but this has never been an issue up to now with sewing, so I confess I wasn't expecting it. 


This is also my first back zip dress (I've only done side zips up to now) and I kind of like it!  It certainly is easier, and the finish is very clean.  I ended up sewing the thing in by hand because of how I did the bodice lining (i.e. total novice).  


I used Florence fabric from Denyse Schmidt, who I love for vintage-inspired fabrics.  My only complaint is that the pattern is drafted for a lined bodice, and I opted to self-line, which was a mistake with this fabric.  The bodice is a little stiff as a result, but I'm hoping it will soften with time and washing.  It is already better after several wearings.  It also won't do for the extreme heat of summer, but it has jumped back into the low 80s the last few days, and I've been comfortable in the dress.


I used some vintage (probably 1930s, going by the Deco shape) black buttons as a decorative touch.  I should really move the last one up about 1/2", as it is just a bit lower than the other three, and it kind of makes my eye twitch.


The skirt section came from this vintage McCalls pattern from the 1950s. I really liked the bodice on the original, but really wanted to try the Emery bodice as the shaping on this one is different.  I might try this one at some point, as I do like the shape of the main dress (the solid blue one with the longer sleeves)  I also opted for patch pockets instead of inseam, because try as I might, I just can't get my brain around inseam pockets.  I've done them a few times, and I've watched a ton of tutorials, but I just.can't.get.it.  A problem for another day.  I started out with two but ended up removing one as it just looked weird with two.  I've got vintage dresses that have only one pocket, so I felt confident that it was appropriate for the style.


The other bit of craziness about the skirt pattern is that it is LONG!  I ended up with a 5" hem.  I should have just trimmed it, but I've not had good luck doing that in the past, so I just made a big ol' fat hem instead.  It does give me the option to let it down for a more 1930s vibe if I wanted to at some point.  I should also say that this dress has the prettiest insides of any dress I've made so far.


I wore this to church yesterday for the Feast of the Elevation of the Cross, and again today because I'm boring like that.  It stood up to heat, lots of baby wearing, and general wear and tear and a combined total of 4 hours of Divine Liturgy with four small children, so I'll call it a win!

Florence Dress: Me Made with Emery and McCalls 4275 patterns
Black leather belt: H&M (several years ago)
Owl brooch: Acorn and Will
Bell Earrings: thrifted (but I found a pair just like them in the 1942 Sears catalog!)
Headscarf: Ralph Lauren via ThredUp
Shoes: Dansko via ebay
Bags under my eyes: courtesy of my children

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

The Sewing Curve


No Talking Tuesday today--I just finished Peter King's book, and I'm working on a short reflection about it, but I haven't had a chance to really sit down with my notes and write something coherent.  So instead, let's talk about sewing!  (Although, I must say, my musings for today do dovetail somewhat with my thoughts about The Antimodern Condition).


I was working on a dress yesterday when my mom called to chat.  She asked me what I was doing and I told her I was sewing.  She paused and said, "Your closet must be bursting with clothes!  It seems like you sew something new every week!"  I muttered something about not everything working out, and we moved on to other topics, but the comment stayed with me because it is a little bit of a sore spot for me.  I struggle a lot with acquisitiveness, and trying to resist a consumer mentality, and that is hard in post-modern society.  I'm still trying to figure out how to acquire a pre-modern mindset (and trying to figure out what that even means).  I'm pretty sensitive to waste in the world--both the sort of waste I generate in the course of my creating, and the waste I create by my own fickleness or poor choices.  I don't want to buy fabric or yarn and make things just to make them--my goal is not an overflowing closet, stash, or a constant supply of blog posts.  I sew and knit because I enjoy it, because it feeds something creative in my soul, and because I want my wardrobe to work very well for me every day.  (And because I can do both in short, punctuated bursts, a must with small children underfoot)  I'm pretty fussy about my clothing, and how it fits, feels, and looks.  I dislike being so sensitive to how clothing feels on me, but I can't really change that aspect of myself, so I'm just trying to learn how to work with it.  


I'm trying to be smarter and more choosy about my purchases on the front end, which does help, but it has been a long learning curve for me.  I'm still training my eye to see silhouettes and to understand what looks good on me when looking at a pattern or a hanging garment.  I realized recently that I'm pretty sensitive to fabric content as well, so I'm trying to be choosier about that as well.  I think the very fact that the average American woman buys more than 70 pieces of clothing per year is testament to the fact that many of us struggle with how best to dress ourselves (that and the fact that most clothing these days isn't designed to last more than three washes and thus feeds the cycle).  I want to feel contented with my wardrobe, and I mostly do, but it is a fine line to walk.  I also dislike that I have to keep things in my closet for the days when my fitted garments don't fit because of my GI issues.  I dislike that my weight swings around so much every month and that fluctuation affects whether most of the garments in my closet fit me.  I dislike that stress makes me feel like my skin is on too tightly and therefore makes me feel weird in my clothes.  Sometimes it all makes me crazy.


But about the sewing.  (Lemme 'splain.  No, wait, is too much.  Lemme sum up.) Here's the thing about my sewing this year: it has been a long sewing curve, and I haven't kept everything I've made.  Some of it I sold to various members of my reenacting group after realizing it didn't suit me, fit quite right, or I just didn't wear enough to justify keeping; some pieces I donated, and some pieces were refashioned.  And yes, I did keep some pieces.  At the moment, my closet consists of about 70% me-made garments, and I feel quite good about that, but my closet is still pretty lean, despite all my sewing.   (And given that my closet can fit no more than 14 hangers in it, this is probably for the best)


One of my takeaways from Gertie Sews Vintage Casual is that sometimes you don't know how a home sewn garment is going to work until you wear it a few times, and this is why wearable muslins are useful.  In that sense, all my sewing has been wearable muslins, because I tend not to spend very much on fabric and I usually end up tweaking a garment a few times after I finish it (and show it here).  Skirts get elastic added to the back waistband, darts and tucks added to fix gaping necklines and waistbands, dresses are taken apart and refashioned as two-piece garments, waistbands altered, skirts and sleeves shortened.  Sometimes the fixes work and I can keep wearing a garment and feeling good in it; sometimes the fix is a fail and the garment still fits badly, even though the finished product looks good on the hanger.  Sometimes the color just doesn't suit me, even though I may love the pattern--I'm trying to be more choosy about the fabric I buy so that I don't spend a lot of time on something that in the end doesn't suit my coloring.  Sometimes the fabric wears badly, or worse, shrinks after a few washes.  I always prewash my fabric, but I've had at least one skirt and one pair of trousers shrink to the point that I couldn't fit into them any longer.


  I learned a lot of things along the way, however, so I don't think I can truly say it was a waste.  I've learned something new about sewing and fitting with each garment I've sewn, as well as what types of things I am pleased to wear every day, and learned a bit more about how to knit things that I want to wear with each knitting project.  (Sometimes I think we home sewers are either master problem solvers or the best jury-riggers out there)


I don't write this to make anyone feel guilty or bad about what is or isn't in their own closet or stash, merely to explain (mostly to myself) why I do what I do, and perhaps to remind myself of my own foibles, my own obsessions, and (admittedly crazy) sensitivities.  I cope with stress in strange ways, and living in this house, in the city, with a busy husband and four children under the age of reason is stressful to me.  I know I need to manage my stress better, and understanding my triggers is one way to do so.  Knowledge is the first step to working on it.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

WIWS: Vintage Housedress


I didn't make it to church today because I had to stay home with a sick kiddo (Boo) and the baby (because I'm her lovie), and the weather is kind of wonky, so I started out the day in a dress that was for cooler weather and then changed to this breezy housedress by late morning so I wouldn't die of heatstroke.  It isn't really that warm, but the humidity is high and it feels like a storm is coming.  


So this dress.  This was one of the first real vintage dresses I bought in 2012 when I first started with my 1940s thing.  It was more than I normally spend on clothing, but I just fell in love with the print and the silhouette.  It is handmade, and the woman who sewed this dress was shorter and stouter than me. At the time, however, I was just happy to find a vintage dress that fit me. 


The dress was billed as feedsack, but I don't think it is.  It is definitely vintage, possibly 1940s or 1930s, going by the print, but it feels more like lawn than feedsack.  It it is a nice breezy dress, but the fabric is fragile, and I've already had to make significant repairs to it over the time I've owned it.  I'm careful about what I plan to do while wearing it--babywearing is too hard on the fabric, particularly under the arms where I've done most of the repairs so far.  I didn't wear it this summer because it isn't nursing friendly at.all, but I did pull it out for this transitional season we're having now.  I usually wear it with a slip that visually lengthens it, but as I'm just hanging out at home with kiddos today, I decided to give it a miss.

I didn't realize it until I was going through photos, but I actually have several of this dress from the past couple of years. I wore it while 8 months pregnant with Ponchik (see below).  I was wearing it the day I went into labor with her, and wore it to and from the hospital, not realizing when I went in that day that I'd be coming home five days later with an impressive abdominal scar and a preemie baby!

8ish months pregnant with Ponchik, Spring 2013;
And, coming home from the hospital with preemie Ponchik,May 2013; Rosie the Riveter has nothing on my arms.
 In other news, the #OutlanderWedding was yesterday, and I was a bit bereft to miss watching it with everyone else, so I watched Tess of the D'Urbavilles (the BBC version) on amazon the last few days while working on the pullover knit.  Thomas Hardy is never one for a pickmeup, and Tess doesn't disappoint in this manner.  (Jude is also good, but again, kind of depressing.  The stories are equally bleak)  But Eddie Redmayne was a treat to watch--he really surprises me as an actor; there is a lot going on below the surface with him, and the contrast with his baby face is so interesting.

I watched the first half of The English Patient again this afternoon while knitting during quiet time, and I noticed new things this go-round, as it has been several years since my last viewing.

Here's my progress so far:   


The twisted rib is pretty stretchy, but it looks so small!  I'm hoping it will fit.


Friday, September 19, 2014

Happy to be wrong about the sleeves

Sometimes I prove myself wrong, and I'm happy to learn it. 
I spent all summer saying that I didn't like in-set sleeves, that I felt frumpy in them, yadda yadda.  


Turns out, what I don't like is the combination of collared shirt + short inset sleeve.  Whomp whomp.


I do like inset sleeves with a collarless blouse, however.  
I feel like Sam I Am: Try them, try them, and you'll see!
I actually really like this blouse--it has inset sleeves, a pleated v-neckline, fun buttons, nice vintage fabric.  I do need some blouses of this type, and I think this pattern is a win!  I'm still going to sew up my Simplicity 3688 blouse in my scrap fabric to test it out, but this pattern is going into my TNT (Tried and True) pile.


So, the blouse.  I used a vintage mail order pattern (no company listed, just "Pattern No.5470") It doesn't have a date either, but going by the pattern art, and the fact that the pieces are unprinted, I'd guess late 1940s or early 1950s.  


I used some vintage fabric I got for my birthday--it was a squeak to get the whole blouse cut out, and I had to fabric piece on the facing up near the back collar, but it is on the inside and doesn't show anyway.


The construction was quite simple, and I really like the collar stand at the back (as opposed to a back collar facing).  It is a nice touch with the gathering on the neckline.  I used some vintage buttons I got from an etsy seller--they came in a set of 7, but there were five big ones and two little ones, so I added the little ones as decoration to the sleeve edge.  I'd guess the buttons to be mid to late 1930s, going by the Deco detailing.


This fabric is so pretty--it was hard to photograph accurately, but it is a nice autumnal palette.  It is a nice weight--comparable to poplin, but with a bit more drape.  Similar to percale, but slightly heavier.


I used bright yellow bias tape on the cuffs and hem, which is a nice little pop of color on my arms as the tape peeks out from the sleeves a bit.  It matches the yellow flowers exactly.


The other thing I like about the color scheme is that it goes with several things in my closet already.  The outlines of the pattern are in navy, which I think makes these colors really pop, but the blouse also goes with the burgundy skirt I made earlier in the summer (that, incidentally, got no wear this summer because the fabric turned out to be too heavy for hot weather, but is turning into a great fall piece)


And I found a belt in my closet that matched everything also.  My only complaint is that even with taking 1/2" off each shoulder before setting in the sleeves, the sleeves still sit a little off the edge of my shoulder--I'm going to try and fix that on the next iteration.  (I did try the blouse on before putting the sleeves on and pinned back the shoulders, but somehow, my pinning didn't quite translate once I started setting in the sleeves.)  I might add another gather to the shoulders on this version to bring the sleeves in slightly.  I also moved the front and back darts, as they were drafted as inverted darts from the hem, which meant that the waist and hips would have been snug, so I just moved them up to be regular pleated darts in the normal place, which worked fine.

Details:

Autumn Flowers Blouse: Me-made
Six-gore navy microbrushed twill skirt: Me-made
Belt: beltparadise (ebay)
Shoes: Softspots (ebay)
Earrings: Kohl's (old)

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Yarn Along: WIP

I know I said at some point that I don't like to have more than one knitting project going at a time, but I think I'm going to revise that opinion.  I have three things going on needles right now, and I like being able to switch between them when I get bored or tired, or just need something different.  It helps that they are all quite different gauges and patterns so I have my choice of working with fingering weight, lightweight worsted, or super bulky weight yarns.  So, for today's Yarn Along, I'm showing my progress.

The Katniss Cowl for my sister:


I'm almost halfway on the main body piece; I'm waiting for her to confirm her diagonal chest measurement before continuing on.  The bulky yarn and telephone poles size 15 needles make the knitting go quickly.


And on the other end of the knitting spectrum, my fingering weight lace yarn headband, on size 3 needles.  I made two mistakes in the pattern, but I think they aren't very noticeable, and especially as it is to be a headband, I think they really won't be noticeable.  (fingers crossed, because I'm not going to try and fix it)


The 1940s Twisted Rib Sweater:
I actually had about 6" completed, but had to frog it back to the ribbing because something went wrong with one of the twists and it was right in the middle.  So now I'm four rows into the pattern beyond the basic ribbing and I have to start increasing every six rows.


Finally, my reading list.  I'm still working on Albion's Seed; so far nothing worth writing home about.  I suspect that when it was published in 1989, it was quite a marvel, but it seems like a lot the ideas contained therein have been accepted by the larger academic community and even expanded upon by others.  I'll keep plugging away, however, as I think the information is useful and good.

Also this week, I got my preorder of Gertie Sews Vintage Casual, and I read through it last night--it is similar to her first book, and also contains a paper packet of patterns that can be traced off and modified, but the styles are much more casual, which I appreciate.  I can see myself using some of these patterns again and again.  Her Portrait blouse from the first book is a major staple of mine, and I'm hoping the pencil skirt becomes one too.   I do wish she'd included a cobbler's apron blouse/dress pattern, as the illustrations in the book kind of made me crave one, but I'm pretty sure I can find one somewhere.


Speaking of sewing, look what also arrived this week!  Grey's Fabric had a nice little sale last week, and I snagged this fab Art Gallery fabric.  I saw it on Rochelle's blog, and when it went on sale, I decided I needed to make another winter blouse.  I'm currently working on a vintage blouse pattern that has 3/4 length sleeves, and I'm hoping it looks well enough when done to be my cold-weather blouse pattern.  I also cut out a Simplicity 3688 blouse from some scrap fabric to see if that one works any better (or just as well--I like having options, and a contrast fabric yoke is always a good idea for busting my stash)


And finally, Seriously Delish, because I'm in a food rut and I needed a push.  I saw it on Andie's blog, and thought it would be a good thing to give a try.  I've already found a few things to try out, and I'm looking forward to finishing the book.

And finally: why reading "slow" is better for your brain.  As if we didn't already know. :)

Linking with Ginny for Yarn Along.