Another inch, another book

The book is Into the Wild, by John Krakauer. This is Jennifer's recommendation. Actually, she recommended the movie, but I thought the book would be more interesting, so I got it from my local library.



And interesting it was. I had not heard of Christopher McCandless, who after earning his college degree cut off all links with his family and basically became a hobo. Two years later, he died of starvation in Alaska. Knowing the outcome from the beginning of the book was no spoiler. Rather, I was amazed on how much my opinion on McCandles evolved as I kept reading. The author was very thorough in following his steps and narrating them in detail. This book would be excellent  were it not for the inclusion of other similar cases or the digression about the author's related experience. This book was supposed to be about  only one person and I wish it had remained so.

Allergies, socks and twinkies

I finally went to my primary care physician and insisted on getting allergy tests. Which did not do me any good, since none of the stuff I brought from work produced a reaction. The doctor explained that the test is only for a short term reaction. I need what is called a patch test, so they can test for prolongued exposure.

Meanwhile, it was fun (though quite itchy) to see little rows of welts develop on my forearm and learn that I am allergic to grass, pollen, dogs and cats.  Since I've never had problems with any of those, I cannot take those tests seriously. Having a welt when you actually puncture the skin is very different from breathing in an allergen or rubbing it against unbroken skin. I certainly don't plan on getting rid of my dear pooch. The doctor recommended that I always wash my hands after touching him but guess what, I've been doing that with all pets all my life. That's probably the reason why I've never had any problems. He also says that the pooch must not sleep in our bedroom. Good luck with that one. We've tried that and all we get is hours and hours of howling. He does not like being away from the pack.

The Summer of Socks has begun and I never took the time to add a button to my sidebar. Heh, I have not updated my sidebar in years. I am a lazy blogger. Maybe this site should be the lazy knitter instead of the cheap knitter. I am counting my current pair of socks for the Summer of Socks. I don't know if it is against the rules, but I do know that this Summer is turning out to be much busier than I expected.


I am reading a foolish book: Twinkie Deconstructed. The author, Steve Ettlinger, picked the twinkie as a typical example of a processed food item, and then went through its label exploring the origin of every single ingredient. Some of those additives are incredibly complicated. They may be synthesized form petroleum, rocks and/or industrial by-products, and then end up present in the twinkie in really minute amounts. But they need to be there in order to acheive good taste and prolongue shelf life. I am not new to food chemistry, and yet I never realized how processed foods relied so much on some unsuspected sources such as mining or palm oil production in the third world. It is also weird to find out that some of those ingredients are also needed in a lot of non-food items such as vaginal lubricants or candles. I cannot remember when I last had a twinkie but I can confortably say it was really the last one for good.

Ankles!

OK, now that both heels are completed, I can keep going round and round unitl I run out of yarn. There will be some increases down the way, but those can easily be handled by the coriolis stripe spiraling around the leg: I'll just skip the corresponding decreases. It will still take me a long time, but having both socks on the needles will help.



The book in that picture is Ladies Coupé, by Anita Nair. It seems that I am drawn to women issues when it comes to reading about far away lands. I was very surprised to see how many things I felt women in my own country have in common with women in India. I could relate to many of the issues that each character brings up. Yet, I felt very distant from these characters. It could be because the setting was just too foreign for me, but I think another problem is the way the book is written. It is neither a novel, nor a set of short stories. It feels like a lot of loose ends who the author tried to tie together, not entirely succesfully. Nevertheless, it was a very enjoyable introduction to a culture I am only slightly familiar with.

The slowest socks

The Summer schedule is killing me. Classes have not even started and I am already exhausted by the time I get home. I cannot imagine how it will be later on.

Here's the heel of the second sock:



I can't wait for the weekend...