A few weeks ago, during my internet travails, I stumbled upon a picture of the Ruffles scarf, from the book Scarf Style (if you want to see a picture too, you can go here, scroll down to July 18). My "hey that's really cool" alarm went off, and much to my delight I found out that the London Public Library has four copies of this book. I put one on reserve and waited a few days. Then I got the e-mail, "Hey, come pick up your book," and, full of anticipation and plans to start the scarf as soon as I got home with the book, I went to pick it up on my way to work.

I probably shouldn't admit this where anyone could read it, but I was so excited about this scarf (seriously, go look at the picture) that I couldn't stop thinking about it while I was at work, so on my lunch break I pulled the book out of my locker, just to look at the pattern. According to the table of contents, the pattern is on page 103.

Imagine my fury upon discovering that someone had ripped page 103 out of the book.

...

Yes, just breathe for a few seconds. Acknowledge that this is not the end of the world, and that the library has three other copies. Plan to resolve the problem Monday between classes. Plan to tell the librarian, but try not to suggest that she should be hunting down the perpetrator with a battle axe. Eat some chocolate. Knit something else. Don't let it ruin your weekend, but feel free to mutter darkly about how hideously uncivilized a person would have to be to rip something out of a library book.

As I mentioned briefly in the last post, I started a sock. If it goes well, I might knit two socks, and wear one of them on each foot. I know, I know... Anyway, the sock has become the new "knitting I carry around with me," and I pulled it out of my purse this morning to work on it before class, only to find that I only had four DPNs instead of five. I did not, however, collapse on the floor in a state of horrified panic. I merely rifled through my purse a bit to determine that the missing DPN was not in fact lurking near the bottom, then stuck the sock back into my purse and turned to my other form of amusement (Han Solo at Stars' End-and no, I don't read anything difficult in my free time during the school year, I love my brain more than that).

I would like to think that this is a sign of personal growth, that I am learning to accept and work with unexpected difficulties, but I think it was more a sign that I only had five hours of sleep and just didn't have the energy to panic.

On the bus ride home, I did manage to summon the energy to acknowledge that I could knit the sock with four needles instead of five, if the fifth one was indeed lost forever, but I found the deserter lounging on the tile in my foyer, so no harm done.

I was going to update with lovely pictures of progress (progress!), show you how many Weasley squares I've finished (58, 82 to go...), show you the Slytherin scarf and my lovely new sock (yes, a sock! I haven't gotten to the heel yet...), but as luck would have it, the camera has refused to operate until I bring it a sacrifice of four double-A batteries. What a jerk.

Usually, I talk while I type, but I didn't say that last part out loud because the camera is sitting right next to me and I don't want it to get angry and start demanding other things (like shrubberies).

Sometimes, when I'm feeling really adventurous, I use the printer to print things.