which_chick | (no subject)

The socks in eyestrain purple are coming along nicely. They're at six and a half inches long, which, since we're starting at the top, means most of the really heavy lifting is done. Because they're knee socks, I still have a lot of lifting to go (it's thirteen inches from just-below-the-knee to the ankle part of the sock, possibly a little more -- if that's the case, I will discover it as the trying-on continues) but the socks are getting slowly, slowly skinnier as I continue down my (more sturdy than delicate) calves. I am past the big fat chunky section of calf so things should pick up from here on out because the number of stitches per round is only going to go down from here on out.

I would take a picture of the current state of the socks but that would require me to show you the excessive lack-o-shaving going on in those parts and probably nobody wants to see that. I don't shave my legs unless someone's going to see them. Since that's not very damn likely right now due to the weather and the appalling state of my personal nonlife, I have leg hair that I could probably braid. (This is probably more than you wanted to know.)

In other news, Mansfield Park is turning out to be a damn delight of a read. I enjoyed Emma (the only other Austen I've read) but even having to recap the previous day's action for grandma (as well as explaining for the thirteenth time that Lady Bertram, Mrs. Price, and Mrs. Norris are three sisters and that Mrs. Grant is not related to them.) has not managed to dull my appreciation for who is doing what to whom even though there really isn't that much actual, y'know, doing because this is a novel of manners and not a Weiss Kreuz fanfic. It's a fun book, some seven chapters in. I am having a good time. Grandma does not laugh at the same things as I find amusing, but what the hell. Jane is doing a pretty good job to entertain us, though I have to watch the sentences to make sure I don't forget to breathe while reading them. They do go on rather a lot.

You disagree? You find Jane a right proper prose stylist? (I'm going to proceed blithely onward without even considering that some of the audience might be somewhat confused as to who the hell Jane is or what other novels she might have written. If the preceding description is indicative of the sad state of affairs inside your head, I do not want to know about it.) Have you tried reading her aloud to an elderly relative? Look, I like her prose as well as the next man, but I don't know that she leaves us time to breathe. Even with the semicolons, a body could get lost in these sentences. They're not modern prose, either. Iffn I wrote like that, my stuff would be covered in red pencil.

Here's an example: The ensuing spring deprived her of her valued friend, the old grey pony; and for some time she was in danger of feeling the loss in her health as well as in her affections; for in spite of the acknowledged importance of her riding on horse-back, no measures were taken for mounting her again, "because," as it was observed by her aunts, "she might ride one of her cousin's horses at any time when they did not want them," and as the Miss Bertrams regularly wanted their horses every fine day, and had no idea of carrying their obliging manners to the sacrifice of any real pleasure, that time, of course, never came.

First off, that's a damn hysterical sentence. Funny as hell, really, except for poor Fanny who doesn't get a horse to ride at this time. It gives full value for entertainment, but even if you breathe where you get a semicolon or a comma, you're still going to be panting at the end of the thing. Reading a sentence like that is work, it is, and people don't fucking write like that anymore so it's not like you get lots of practice.