It never fails. As soon as I start writing lots and lots at work, my personal writing drops off like a thing that drops off really fast.
And guess what my new job at work is all about? WRITING!
Which is great! It means I get to spend much much more than a very small part of my day writing, editing, organizing, and cataloging articles and various bits of copy. Nothing, really, could be finer. I love writing!
But then I finish work and quite naturally, to take my mind off work, I pick up something else. Like knitting! Or whitework!
So good news: I’ve been getting a bit more crafty with my bad self these days!
Bad news: I’ve barely come near enough to the computer in my off-hours to share any of that crafty goodness with all of you nice people!
So to fill you in a little on what my hands have been bringing forth lately, I shall share with you some of the rather bad photographs I’ve taken of my latest productions.
First, the knitting. I always get the urge to knit some lovely socks in the fall, and just as predictably, I always gravitate toward some sort of autumnal yarn to knit them up with. Reds, oranges, browns… So I’ve been working up some truly adorable cuffed, ribbed knee socks for Melissa — she has such very shapely legs, you know, such a well-turned calf, and such delicate little ankles, that it is quite a delight to knit socks for the wee thing.
I cannot wait to see her wear these. The plan is to have them finished in time for her to wear them to QuiltMarket in Houston at the end of October. Here is the first sock, all done and dusted:
You will have to trust me that it comes up almost completely to her shapely little knee. The bad photography that I am noted for has done a remarkable job of making the calf of this sock look much shorter than it is in real life. True story. Also? It tapers in the back, along a gorgeous little back seam.
Yes, it is based on an actual Victorian sock pattern.
Because, as you know, that’s exactly how I roll.
Oh, well, we got this new exercise room at work, see. Moved the whole company into a shiny new office in Cambridge, and one of the best bits in it is the dedicated exercise room and adjacent showers. I mean, honestly. Could my company possibly be any cooler?
Oh yeah, I guess they could also have a dedicated Nap Room. And a public statement by the CEO encouraging all employees to nap as often as they wish.
Oh, wait, we’ve got those too!
So anyway: exercise room. You’ll recall that this summer I renewed my love affair with Tai Chi and Qigong. So naturally I was very excited to be able to sneak off during the middle of the workday every once in a while, do a little stretching, some deep breathing, maybe a few extended forms…
But my friend, those walls of that exercise room? They were clear glass. Floor to ceiling. Giving absolutely everybody who walked down the main hallway a full view of whoever was doing their thing in there. So, being a modest little soul not particularly given to public displays of athleticism, I stayed away.
Then I got a very bright idea, and started agitating for frosted glass to be installed, to replace the clear glass!
You guys, they totally did it. Just because I asked!
I love my company.
So now we have a beautiful, tiny, now actually usable (by the more modest among us) exercise room at my office in Cambridge. The very day that they installed those frosted glass panes, I jumped right in a did an inaugural Tai Chi form or two. Hung out in there for a good 20 minutes, enjoying the calm amid the hubbub of a busy internet start-up company.
And then, somebody opened the door and walked in, thinking they would use the quiet little room for a quiet little cell phone call.
Not her fault, of course. The door doesn’t have a lock on it, so what was she to think?
I decided we needed one more little accessory to bring that little jewel of an exercise room to its final point of perfection:
A handmade, stuffed, embroidered door hanger that said “occupied” on it. (That’s our little “sprocket” logo serving as the “o” in occupied. Because we are nothing if not adorable at HubSpot.)
I made the embroidery design myself, being sure to use our brand-approved font and everything. Such a good little marketer I am.
Then I added a bunch of little whitework stars all over the front and back. Because, come on. I can’t make something without at least a little 19th century flair, can I?
It’s our differences that make us richer.
Melissa provided the orange ribbon and buttons, because she has one of those studios where you can sit there and say “You wouldn’t happen to have any orange ribbon? Or buttons? Would you?”
And she reaches up over her head without looking and pulls down a ziplock bag full of ribbons in different hues of orange. Then, with her other hand, she pulls down an adorable little inch-wide mason jar filled with a variety of different orange buttons.
That’s just the kind of girl she is.
So now that’s hanging in on a door handle in an office in Cambridge. And that’s pretty neato, if you ask me.
Oh, I did one other thing this month, I guess. I made a little square of whitework embroidery on my finest, sheerest muslin for Quilt Dad, to thank him for the Kindle sleeve he made me for my birthday.
Alas, I forgot to photograph it before I mailed it to him. Maybe he will photograph it for me and post it on Flickr! I live in hope.
To make up for the lack of a poorly lit photograph of whitework on muslin, I will instead give you a well lit photograph of Melissa, in a unicorn hat.
And if you don’t think that’s the greatest thing ever, well then frankly I’m not at all sure why you’re reading this blog.