Knitting Blogging, with Dog

What I should be doing right now: Editing economics papers.
Why I’m not doing it: The furnace man is coming sometime late-morning-early-afternoon (i.e., now) (Did I mention we had freezing weather last week and when I turned it on our furnace wasn’t working [yes, the pilot is lit]? And that when it did start running, about 24 hours after I turned it on, it makes a very loud whining noise? So we’ve been keeping the house temp at 56-58 degrees F? No? Well, I just did.), and my doorbell is acting up (please, no jokes about everything breaking down in my house right now), so I am doing stuff (i.e., blogging) in the dining room to be able to hear the furnace man’s knock.
What I offer instead: A terribly boring post about the terribly boring knitting project I’m doing right now.

Background: I ordered the materials from KnitPicks to make the Emma Jacket. I thought it would be a good way to try steeks (eek!). Steeks are when you knit something in the round (that is, a tube), then you cut (hence the eek!) it open. Typically this is used to insert the sleeves in color work like Fair-isle sweaters. In the Emma project, you start with just enough stitches for your back (it probably doesn't help my feeling for this project that when Trixie first saw it she said, "Wow! That looks really small for you!"), increase the number of stitches as you knit your rounds to create a sloped front, add in the sleeves, cut open the jacket front, add a lapel (which, the more I look at it, the more I think it’s way too 1970s wide), and you get a sweater:

But it is done in stockinette stitch (knit one row, purl one row; bear with me, non-knitting readers, I’m teaching you something here. Believe me, you won’t realize how cool knowing this will make you in typical barroom banter until you mention it to your new buddies). On circulars, this means knitting every row. Boring boring boring.

With Dog: Woman, you are freaking me out! First you keep pressing the doorbell over and over and won’t let me check who’s there. Then, when I finally stop howling, you make me sit here with this knitting, when all I really want is to sit under the blanket on the loveseat:


What do you mean, “don’t touch the little wooden sticks?” They were tickling my leg! I give you the Evil Look of Disdain:


*Sigh*. I give up. Take your damn pictures, but don’t expect me to look at you, lady!