I am often a reluctant convert. When my friend learned to knit socks on two circular needles, and enthusiastically recommended the technique, I wasn't eager to try it. I knew how to knit in the round on double-points; it worked. Why waste my energy learning a new way to do the same thing?

She finally wore me down. I tried two circulars and immediately ditched the dpns. I've made innumerable pairs of socks (and some mittens, and lots of sleeves) on two circulars. When I heard about the Magic Loop technique several years ago, I thought that I should try it, but I wasn't enthusiastic about it. I'd already changed once. I loved using two circulars. (Uh-oh. Whenever I get too settled with something, that's my cue that I'm about to have a shakeup).

The past few weeks, several things happened: First, I was knitting a top-down sock with a turned heel, and struggling to redistribute the stitches side-to-side from their front/back orientation on my two circs. I discovered (duh!) that if I pulled out an extra loop of cable, I could easily transfer the stitches. Then, a week or so later, I was reading Annie Modesitt's new book, Romantic Hand Knits. (Yep, I actually read knitting books.) She mentions that she often knits on the longest circular needle available, and if she is knitting a smaller tube, she just pulls out an extra loop of cable to the side so the stitches aren't stretched out. Hmmmm. Magic Loop ... transferring stitches ... pulling out an extra loop of cable ... Bingo! If I'd just read that blasted little Magic Loop book, I'd have known all this a couple years ago. But, to salvage my dignity, I like to think that the insight is much richer for having been discovered through experience.

Last night, I was at work, and had a moment to knit on a sock I was starting. I wanted to do the cuff on zeroes, but I only had two 32-inchers. Since I owe my soul, and those of any descendants and relatives thrice-removed, to the company store, I sighed mournfully at the thought of buying yet another two pairs of 24-inch circulars. Then, in my Neanderthalic way, I realized -- smiting myself on the forehead -- I can just do the cuff on the one 32-inch needle. I tried it, pulling out loops of cable when I needed to to make the work fit. It worked like a dream. In fact, -- dare I say it -- I really liked the technique. Certain of my knitting friends will roll their eyes when I reveal that I've been converted yet again. Maybe I should've named this blog The Reluctant Convert.

I have racked up two Finished Objects (FOs) since my last post: The one-skein Nancy shawl is truly finished, blocked, and the ends woven in. (My goddess-coworker darned in the ends for me when I wasn't at the shop; you know who you are!) And my class-example top-down-sock-on-two-circulars is finished and hanging on the Wall O' Class Projects at the shop. Now, you may say that ONE sock is not a finished project, and you would be right. But I didn't claim two finished projects. I just claimed two finished objects. And one sock is, indeed, an object. Another coworker and I had this clarifying discussion at work yesterday, and she is thrilled, because she can claim many more FOs now.

Since I am over 50, I know that it is important to take the little victories where you can find them.

Thus concludes the knitting portion of our program for today.

On the reading / writing front, I'm still enjoying Winter's Tale. I read a chapter or two before bed every night. It's one of those books you don't want to finish quickly, because it's such a lovely world to live in for a while.

I picked up a copy of The Wet Collection by Joni Tevis today at Milkweed Editions at the Open Book center on Washington Avenue in Minneapolis. I took a class this spring in the personal essay at the Loft Literary Center, which is in the Open Book. I guess my style is mainly lyrical, and my teachers at the Loft recommended I read Tevis. I'm excited to look into the book later today. I will post a review when I have read it.

If you haven't been to the Open Book, you must go if only to check out the MN Center for Book Arts in the main level. They have classes in a variety of book arts / crafts, and they sell some stunning handmade cards and other paper items.

And now the random ... My housemates and I have been trying to reduce our carbon footprint, but man, those suckers are sticky. I'm tracking carbon everywhere. Specifically, I'm really struggling with my addiction to carbonated beverages. I swore off diet soda, because a) it's a waste of money, b) it's bad for my health, c) it's a waste of packaging and transportation energy, and d) it's just generally Evil. I started drinking vast quantities of bottled carbonated water instead, but quickly realized that it was also a waste of money, packaging, etc. etc. Then we got a water filtering system so that we can have filtered water right out of the tap. We all bought Nalgene bottles and started schlepping those around for our swigging pleasure. Except I still harbor a major jones for fizziness. Today I bought three glass bottles of fizzy water at Target. Glass is better than plastic, right? But ... oops, the label says it's a product of Italy. I guess it took some fossil fuels to move that water across the Atlantic. I feel like a crack addict, slinking off to guzzle fizzy water.

And finally: At the Minnesota State Fair a couple weeks ago, my sister and I went in quest of Pronto Pups. Until last year, I had no idea that corn dogs and Pronto Pups were two different things. Then I tasted my sister's Pup at the fair, and I realized that while a corn dog is a mundane, gritty coated wienie on a stick, a Pronto Pup is an ambrosial delight: a batter-dipped hot dog lovingly deep-fried to golden goodness, not to mention a major phallic symbol.

As is often the case at the Fair, the thing you seek is the thing you can't find. We saw several Corn Dog vendors, but alas, no Pup mongers. We searched in vain, until my sister said, "LOOK! PRONTAGE!" Now, this cracked me up so badly that I choked on my iced espresso. It was not until just now, however, that I realized that the opposite of Prontage must be ... Cornage.