The Trouble With Garden Blogging

Periodically, I write something about the garden, and I get the feeling that most of the people who read this blog don't get it. "Oh yes," you must all be thinking. "There she is maundering on about plants again, what's got into her?" "She used to be interesting. What is all this rot about holes and weeds?" "Oh look, a reference to a tool I recognize! I wonder what the hell she's talking about?" I recognize that the gardening stuff isn't exactly great literature, or even all that fascinatingly phrased.

(Also, in all fairness, I recognize that some of you do get it. Sometimes it's a more entertaining kvetch if I take you all in vain, so for the three people who know a primula from a post, I offer sincere apologies.)

However, having been boring once this weekend, I don't really feel like stopping. I'm carrying on here in subjects no one much cares about.

I am nearly finished the sweater. I need to seam up the right side and the right sleeve, and tuck some loose ends in, and it will be done. Probably tomorrow. I am in the traditional period of severe doubt regarding the sweater that I almost always seem to be in when I'm nearly done. I think the sleeves are too short, but there's no fixing them now (note to self: next time, make the sleeves 18 inches, no matter what the pattern says). It's possible I can stretch them a bit if I block the thing. It's also possible that they'll be really okay once the whole thing is finished - these days, I am used to sleeves that are either three-quarter length, or deliberately too long, so it's possible that I'm reacting to sleeves that are actually freakishly the right length for my arms.

(nchanter: I think a knitting book of mine got left at your house a week or so back. If you find it, could you let me know?)