Monday, February 28, 2005
I need to get this out:
From time to time, some of you have noticed, I utilize the Blog in a less topical, more online journal type way. I use it to get down thoughts on paper about assignments, "personal statements" which I feel I have to write about once a week.
Today's installment is a story I have to tell in my preaching class. It's freaking me out, quite honestly. I had this charming story in mind, and then I met with my professor and he said it needs to have an 'A-ha' moment at the end that teaches a lesson that we can see building up from the beginning of the story as we look back, but is a total suprise to us at the moment. In other words: Write your first novel over the weekend, kid.
So here's what I've got. I've never been able to get past my original story, but have built up around it hoping that someone will try really hard to have an 'A-ha' at the end. Most of this developed at 4 AM this morning when I was unable to get back to sleep. Thanks for reading.
My parents were high school sweethearts who married after college and decided to return to their hometown after grad school to start careers and a family. This put my brother and myself into a situation rare in this day in age. We lived within a ten minute drive of both sets of our grandparents.
This meant that when my parents went out of town for any extended period of time, my parents had instant baby-sitters. My brother would go to the Morris grandparents to rough and tumble with my two cousins who lived there, and I would go to the Weddell grandparents, a much more sedate environment.This was special for me. Gram and Pap Morris were in town all year, but Grandma and Grandpap Weddell spent the Winter, from October til April, in Florida. And I would have them all to myself, no pesky older brother around.
While Grandpap was at The Rotary Club or out playing golf, my grandmother fascinated me at an early age, teaching me how to make breadcrumbs with an ancient meat grinder that she bolted to the counter. Making peanut butter cookies and putting the cross-hatches on top just so. Teaching me how to salt and pepper my buttermilk and mix it with a fork. She grew money plant, this shrub that every two years produced seed pods tough as leather. She taught me how to shuck the rough covering away with my fingers, revealing a shimmery, tissue paper thin center that glimmered in the sunlight.
I last spent the night at my grandparents house when I was around eleven. The tasks that had proved so fun and fascinating as a young child had become tedious and boring and "Really, Grandma, can't you just drop me off at the mall?"
But when I was younger, all of the things my grandmother could do seemed somehow magical. One of the earliest visits I can remember with her, I don't think I had even started school, comes to mind. She had decided that we should have a tea party. She got out the set of tin doll dishes that she kept in a doll-sized china cabinet that her father had made for her as well as tiny doll-sized cookie cutters in the shape of animals and a small pot and lid to "cook" our "cookies" in. This wasn't unusual for me. Grandma didn't have any plastic food to pretend with like I had at home. She made due with what she had.
She and I set the table for two and put the cookie cutters in the pot, covering it carefully with the lid. "Why don't you go upstairs and wash your hands while our food cooks?" When I returned, we sat down, and she said, "We should say grace before we eat." We both bowed our heads and said the perennial favorite of my house, "God is great, God is good, and we thank Him for our food. Amen."
"I'll serve the tea. Why don't you serve the cookies?"When I removed the lid, I was stunned to see that cookie cutters had indeed "baked" and had turned into little animal crackers! I remember being being amazed and ecstatic. Grandma was magic! I didn't ask myself, "How did she do that?" until days if not years later. In that moment, I believed that my grandmother had performed a small miracle just for me. Like Jesus turning water into wine, my grandmother had made metal toys into real food. And I believed in her with the faith of a child.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
I smell like goat.
Or perhaps llama. Do they really smell that different?
I was showing my bag around to various seminary students the other day, bemoaning to my fellow Stitchin' Sems the sheer amount of fur on the bag. Remember, this is what I was dealing with.
I asked any of them if they or their spouses owned hair clippers that I could borrow to possibly get rid of some of that gawdawful fur. Not fuzz, I can accept fuzz. This was fur. Wookie fur. One of my more sadistic ingenious classmates suggested that I set it on fire. Excuse me??? "Yeah, I've done that before. Just take a candle, or a grill wand to it. Gently of course. You may want to have a lot of water nearby too. But it'll burn the fur down to the bag fiber."
Hmm... intriguing and dangerous. I live for danger. I filled up every bucket in the apartment with water while my roommate was out at the library, sat by a WIDE open window and gently waved my grill wand over the bag. Why hadn't I heard of this solution before? This girl was a genius! An entirely unheard of technique! I wonder if it works on mohair! It looks GREAT in comparison. After spending about an hour fanning a section with flame, dusting off the debris, flaming, dusting, flaming dusting,
I ended up with this:
You can SEE the fair isle! You can SEE the red! Still too small, but FABULOUS! It worked! I got up to stretch my legs and go to the bathroom. As I washed my hands, a slow knowledge began to grow at the nape of my neck. My hands were turning the soap suds black. Hmm... As I left the bathroom, I began to notice a pungent aroma throughout the apartment. Despite my best efforts of having a window open on a 30 degree day, the entire apartment smelled like a combination of burnt human hair and wet wool. I think that my sense of smell had readjusted itself in the brief pocket of clean atmosphere produced by the running water. As I entered to rarely used study room, the stench became overwhelming.
Shit. The roommate is going to be home any min...click. The electronic lock! She's home now! "What's that smell?" Um....
I spent the next half hour doing the following things: Lighting every scented candle in the apartment. Seaside mist, vanilla, sage and citrus. It didn't matter. The strange cacophany of scents produced by the candles HAD to be better than the smell of charred animal. I threw open every window and turned off the heat, driving the temperature down to 55 degrees. I sprayed the bag heavily with Lysol and the rest of the atmosphere with Neutra Air. Thankfully, things quickly got better in the apartment (thank you, Yankee Candle).
I then decided to kill two birds with one stone and take a shower with the bag. Well, in the same room as the bag, hoping to steam out some of the ungodly odor. As I first stepped into the shower, the cloud of llama essence lifted from my body. Blech. I liberally used my strongest scented shampoo, hoping that some scent would permeate the bag. No such luck. I only succeeded in making my bathroom smell like a petting zoo.
By this point, the apartment smelled liveable, as did I. I figured I'd leave the bag in front of an open window overnight in the study room with the door closed, allowing for maximum airing out but minimum apartment cool-down.
When I awoke this morning, the first thing I noticed was a New Smell. Something resembling gently rotting cabbage. I went around my room picking up articles of clothing, smelled my trash, hoping to isolate the New Smell in something other than The Inevitable. I tore from the room. The New Smell lingered in the common area too. I sniffed the kitchen trash, my bathroom trash. All of it carried the faint New Smell, but not strong enough to be The Source.
With courage I mustered from having God on my side, I opened the study room door and discovered that The Inevitable was indeed true. I had not succeeded in airing out the bag one bit, only on spreading its odiforous bouquet around the apartment in a subtle new form.
After a second round of Neutra Air, candles, and frigid air, I succumbed to attempting a second wash of the Farmer's Stall Bag. I dreaded this because after it had been washed the first time, my mother and I injured our upper arms by SHOVING large, rarely used books into the bag to give it shape. We bent some spines too, ours and theirs. I had no books of that sort here, nor did I have a second willing person in the book shoving enterprise. I also had no idea if washing would tease out more hairs thus requiring me to repeat the whole process all over again, this time with a genuine flamethrower.
Now the Farmer's Stall Bag hangs on a hook, soaking, ruining a towel that I shoved into it to give it shape. I think it's furring again. Sigh.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Sorry.
Yeah, I'm sorry I've been largely absent from the blog world for the past month or so. I don't know. I don't feel like doing much of anything these days, and when I do, I feel like time triples and I never get as much done as I want, get down on myself for the impending mass of work, want to give up on stuff.
So here's knitting: BTW: We're back to small, clickable pictures. I just like them better for some reason.
Farmer's Market Bag
I felted the Farmer's Market Bag two weeks ago.
I've dubbed it's final name: "The Yeti's Hairball." Here's a closeup to see why.
Does anyone have any word on taking a beard trimmer to these things? Hair clippers? Someone recommended burning all the fuzz off. I know felted stuff is supposed to be fuzzy, that you're not supposed to see the stitches. But I spent HOURS on that fair isle pattern, I want to SEE it!
I'm never going to use this bag. I wanted something that was tote size that I could take to the supermarket, like the title in the book suggests. It felted up this small in less than a 10 minute wash cycle. Ugh. Alpaca. Never again.
I'm going to give the Yeti's Hairball to a girl who lives upstairs who has expressed fondness for it. After I figure out a way to de-fur it.
Harry Potter
You'll recall my renewed fervor for the Harry Potter sweater back before I left for Pittsburgh. Why had I given up on this truly British creation? I took it with me with renewed vigor.
I redesigned the "H" into an "M" to suit me better and to make it look as if Mrs. Weasley cared for me too. :-) Harry Potter proved to be a wonderful companion around the kitchen table where family seemed to gather at home. Difficult enough to draw some attention, easy enough for me to talk and not count. Perhaps this is why it took me until the tip of the "M", more than half-way up the intarsia, to notice the problem.
Can you see it? There are 17 stitches between the two pillars of the "M". There should be 16. This would be fine if this were to be a measly "H", but it will make the "M" look incredibly uneven. I had hoped that I had added a stitch, a missed yarn over, a mistaken M1. But no, the error lie 4 inches down in the first row of intarsia.
Back to penalty box, Harry Potter! No Quidditch for you!
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Brooks Brothers
My dad and I are a lot alike. There are things that I can't even put my finger on, but I noticed last night while in a class discussion group, that my speech patterns are almost identical to his. Every holiday my dad gets something for my mother that he thinks that she will like, but that is inevitably more his (and my) style than hers. When this item is clothing, it usually comes from Talbots, or Saks, or Ann Taylor or some other place that caters to the ultra-tailored, crisp-oxford-shirt set. Absolutely my style, not so much my mother's style. Therefore, of course, a trip to the store of origin is planned to return the item.
This past birthday of my mother's, the item came from Brooks Brothers who did not see fit to include it on their website, damn them. It was a periwinkle blue cable knit sweater, a cardigan that reached down past the knees. It would have even on a taller woman. It was reminiscent of those long sweater-jackets that were so popular when I was in college. I hope my dad doesn't mind me quoting the price here at $148.00 cause price is important to the story.
My mom tried it on and immediately asked how it looked. It looked tailored, and because it was knit, it was a little clingy in all those areas that no normal woman wants to show off with clingy clothing. So it was going back. Admiring the cabling handiwork, (it looked like it was knit on size 9's or so), I asked, "What's it made of?" 70% silk, 30% cashmere. Thinking of Alison's latest ripping adventures, I said, jokingly, "Maybe I could rip it up and make something you like better out of it." The thing was so long, I'm pretty sure there were at least 8 good size balls of yarn in it. I should have known, that's not something to joke about.
We returned the luxurious yarn in the shape a cardigan to Brooks Brothers and Mom got a few things that were more her. When we got home, I decided to see how much the yarn to make that cardigan would have cost had I bought it online. I can see you all sitting there reading, as if watching a slasher movie where the buxom blonde is about to open the door. "No, Melissa! Don't Google! Don't! NOOOO!!!" I had to. I had to know. My search for "yarn 70% silk, 30% cashmere" yielded the following result.
Ok, I'll just subject myself to more torture and do the math. In order to make a profit on the sweater purchase, it would have to yield a minimum of how many 125 yarn balls? Anyone? At $33 a ball, it would take less than 5 balls of yarn to break even.
I shoulda fought harder, kicked and screamed til I got my hands on that luxurious yarn. There's always Christmas.
Stay tuned for tomorrow. I've got pictures. :-)
Friday, February 11, 2005
Another hiatus
My grandmother passed away at a little after 2 AM this morning. It was expected for about a week now. The next couple of days may be too busy to post, at least with pictures and all of that. It's why I was coming home.
When I return: The Yeti's Hairball, and Harry Potter back in the penalty box.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Penance
In the spirit of Ash Wednesday, in the spirit of penance, I decided to dig through the basket and seek forgiveness by choosing one much neglected project and getting a ton of work done on it.
No, this has nothing to do with the fact that my current "pet" projects were packed for my delayed trip to Pittsburgh (damn weather) and that the Harry Potter sweater had somehow found itself on top.
It may not look like I've done a lot, but you have to remember that the last time I worked on this guy, I was only three lines into the intarsia. It was giving me some puckering problems and I also hadn't learned how to tack down those traveling back threads. Non-knitters out there, find your favorite nordic looking ski sweater from American Eagle or wherever and turn it inside out. See all of those threads? Yeah. We have to figure out what to do with those things. The long and short of it was I gave it a time out. I walked away. I didn't let my anger get the best of me. After conquering the Farmer's Market Bag (gonna try and felt it tonight hehe), I no longer feared the simple colorwork of the Harry Potter.
Look at how far I've come: (Click for a popup...my new thing. :-D)
Today I'm off to Pittsburgh, and frankly I'm tempted to take good ol' 'Arry Potta along for the ride, finish off the giant M. Not while driving, of course.
Wednesday, February 9, 2005
Yarn Sale!
I mentioned yesterday that I had some stash overflow problems. While some would simply go out and get more tubs, like this lady, this poor seminary student (remember, that means I won't have any money AFTER grad school either) has decided to sell the overflow.
First off, check out my ebay auction. My first ever. I had to open up the Fee to the entire world, y'know. I just didn't know how to price it.
Now the stuff available exclusively to you, both of you...neither of whom knits. Uh-oh. But we press on. If this works right, you can click on any of the small pictures to see a popup of a big picture of the yarn. Add shipping of $4 to each price. (Priority Mail for a pound envelope is $3.85)
My mother gave me this. It's about 1/2 a skein of LionBrand Homespun Baby. Incredibly soft, but not my style for baby stuff. This was one of those, "I'll make a blanket for Sammy...oops Sammy's two now. Here, Melissa, see what you can do with it" things. Retails for $4. I'll give it to you for a buck, plus shipping.
LionBrand Chenille Thick and Quick in color Sable (discontinued?). I thought it would be good for making the quads bears for Christmas, but then finals got in the way and 4 bears became 1 bear for Samwise the Nephew. It worked pretty well, I must say. I got it for $6 (say the tags on the yarn), so how about all three for $10, or $5 a piece. Buy two get one free! :-) Incidentally, the pattern I used came to about one skein per bear, using size 10 needles. But the pattern stunk.
Hmm...More Lion Brand. Are you seeing a pattern? No really, I do use Lion Brand! Remember Samwise the Sweater?? I just don't see any use for the stuff I have listed is all. :-) And honestly, I can't get next to this stuff. Maybe I just started out on the good stuff and can't handle anything less. But I digress. This is Lion Brand Jiffy in Heather Blue and Oxford Grey. As you can see, the blue hasn't been touched, but I've attempted to start things (doubling the yarn) with the grey, so there's probably less than a skein of each of those. $3 for both of the grey (or $2 a piece individually) and $2 for the blue.
This yarn is a total mystery to me. :-) The only fact I know about it for sure is that it doesn't smell bad. And that it's fairly soft. I got it on ebay a long time ago for a price I can no longer look up. I recall it being somewhere around $15 for all 4 skeins. My hunch is that this is also some sort of synthetic fiber. As you can see, I haven't used it for anything. $12 for all four, $4 a piece.
Once again, all of the prices don't include shipping costs, which I've set at $4.
Email me at stitchinseminarian [at] yahoo [dot] com if you're interested. First come first serve, depending on when I receive your email.
Now, this may not be the best day to do this because I'm not going to be sitting by my computer answering emails all day. But then again, if only two of you read this and neither of you knit, then it might not matter if I'm around or not. :-) I'm driving to Pittsburgh this afternoon (yes, I'll take the yarn with me) and won't check my email til tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.
Good luck!
Tuesday, February 8, 2005
More Crossing-Off
Sunday morning, my roommate was bemoaning the fact that we had no dishcloths left. (Dishrags for the western PA crowd.) Now, we have somewhere around 5 dishrags in the apartment. The roommate had done laundry on Thursday, I did laundry just the day before. "Where are all of our dishcloths going?" she complains. Well, here's a hint in the form of a word problem to honor of my new job as math tutor.
You start out with 5 dishcloths Thursday night at dinner, having done the laundry on Friday. You use a new one every other time you wash dishes. Because you've been OBSESSING lately about having an empty sink, you've been washing dishes 4 times a day. Once after each meal, and once before going to bed each night. When will you run out of dishcloths?
Ok, that's one dishcloth every 2 washings. That's 2 dishcloths a day. Two and a half days, but I'm starting at dinner on Thursday. I'll use a new one Friday at breakfast, Friday at dinner, Saturday breakfast, Saturday dinner, carry the one. Yeah, PRETTY DAMN FAST. That's the answer I was looking for.
Instead of running Target and BUYING more, let's be thrifty.
4. So lookit what I made Sunday in a little over 2 hours:
I know, not that impressive, but the fact that the last dishrag I made took me 2 weeks?? I'm pretty impressed at my progress in a year. :-D
And I put The Roommate to work making one as well. She had learned how to knit previously and just needed a refresher course. Maybe when she's actually made one, she'll learn to treasure them and maybe I'll get her "habit" down to one per day.
5. I mentioned laundry on Saturday. Well, Saturday was a big domestic day all around. I noticed that the "project" basket was being infiltrated by whole balls of yarn. They were intimidating the other projects like a new young secretary intimidates a beleagured housewife/mother of two. (Ok, not the most PC of images, but you're not here for PC). Drastic steps were taken and I embarked on a Stash Culling Adventure. It was like that scene in High Fidelity where John Cusack is surrounded by stacks and stacks of records. His co-worker comes in and says, "So, you've decided to tackle the great reorganization, huh?" "Yeah." "So how are you doing it?" [Cusack pauses, giving his co-worker time to figure it out.] "Chronological?" "No." "Not alphabetical." [Pause] "Autobiographical." "No fucking way...that sounds really..." "Comforting. Yeah."
I pulled out all of the yarn, piled it in stacks around me, leftovers, dream projects, definite projects, gifts, what was I thinkings, great plans for you, etc. I realized that I don't have a lot of space.
Three fairly small plastic drawers, that's it. I put all of the "leftovers" into the wonderfully retro 50's fruitbowl you see on the top, and put all of the "what was I thinking"'s in a bag to be sold along with some other "I'm never going to use these" items. I'll put up an extensive list tomorrow. If you're interested in any of them, email at: stitchinseminaran[at]yahoo[dot]com. I'll repost the email with the pictures.
The great stash reorganization led to a huge case of startitis. "Why haven't I gotten this that project yet? I was so psyched when I got the yarn!" Well, that brings me to the final item on the "to do list."
6. I received some Lion and Lamb (yum, my god, yum, so soft) in the mail after waiting for six weeks. I quickly shoved it in basket for a week thinking only of the Farmer's Market Bag and the February fix-a-long. I decided that it wouldn't fit in the stash drawers and therefore I HAD to start Clapotis so that I could wind it into balls and put it in the "project basket." (Lists, reorganizing, I'm really not this anal in real life. Really.)
Coincidentally, there seems to be a second wave of Clapotis fever running around in blogland. Stephanie's just started one, as has Jodi. I think it's a mere coincidence, but interesting nevertheless. I'm betting that Steph will finish hers first. The sheer speed of that woman's needles astounds me, but mainly it's because I can't keep my mind on a single project for more than a day. Maybe she's just driven. REALLY driven.
Because it was on the to-do list, I have to ponder what this yarn smells like. It's awful. It feels wonderful, but smells, oh just hideous. A combination of rotten eggs, old cigarettes and fish. You know what it smells like? Ann Taylor Loft clothing before you wash it. Anyone know that smell? Blech. I hope it comes out in the blocking. Lord knows the Ann Taylor Smell takes at least 2 dry cleanings to come out.
Monday, February 7, 2005
Crossing Off
I used to make a schedule for myself when I was 14. It was ridiculously planned in the morning: shower: 15 minutes, lotion: 5 minutes, curl bangs: 20 minutes. On the other hand, my focus would peeter off as I scheduled the evening. 6 til I'm tired: homework. The list would be on my nightstand in the morning, and I would cross things off as they got completed. If I hit the snooze button and started 15 minutes too late, the list would get thrown away, abandoned to the whims of fortune.
Yesterday, I posted a list of things to do today. I said that I would post after noon. Two notes: That's noon CENTRAL time, and I didn't say HOW SOON after noon. :-) So it's 2:15 here and I can start crossing off some of the stuff I said I'd do yesterday.
1. Heather yesterday looked much as it did in the link below, which I will link again for easy reference. Today, well, Heather had massive surgery today. So in the spirit of The Surgery Channel, I present Heather with her guts lying out all over the table.
I swear! It's all in the spirit of blogland's February fixin' fixation! She'll be back and better than ever before the end of the month. Ok, so by next winter for sure. Promise.
2. Farmer's Market Bag is definitely in the home stretch. I do have a big problem with it though.
Please don't judge on the horrible photography. Should I undo the red or do the rest of the bag with the red "hi-lites?" That is the question before the committee.
My roommate likes the red just fine, but then she's nuts about red. I don't know, I just feel like it's not subtle enough for the rest of the bag. Man, I have a lot to learn about color.
3. Ok, this is all I can cross off in one day. See what I mean? I love lists, I just stink at keeping them.
One of the new projects in the hopper is the Magknits Sophie Bag. All of the seminary knitters are goin' apey over this bag. The VP of student affairs (one of those types who loves to organize social activities) found a bunch of remaindered/discounted Cascade 220 somewhere ( I KNOW, I'm jealous too) and is encouraging a massive seminary-wide knitalong. Cause I refuse to run with the pack, I got my own Peace Fleece in blue (and one in pink if this works out) for the project. I finally got it felted.
Never felt in front loading washers! It doesn't matter that I get to do my laundry here for free (great luxury!!), it took 5 hot loads and a half an hour of hand felting and I can still see the damned stitches. But it's good enough for gov-ment work. This has taught me to felt at HOME in the top-loader, even if I have to wait months to do it!
More crossing off of the "to-do" list tomorrow.
Sunday, February 6, 2005
To do list:
For Monday, February 7th:
1. Frog Heather down to the bone. Post pictures.
2. Seek online opinion about Farmer's Market Bag. Have started adding red "hi-lites" and am not convinced it looks good.
3. Unveil before/after felting swatches for Sophie Bag.
4. Show the little ditty I worked up during Good Will Hunting yesterday morning.
5. Bemoan lack of yarn stash space as well as amount of yarn I have.
6. Ponder why Lorna's Laces Lion and Lamb smells like old cigarettes. And I know what old cigarettes smell like. Remember Bertha?
Monday's post will follow class which ends at noon.
Friday, February 4, 2005
Decisions
It's been a busy week here in Chi-town. I like busy. It keeps me from getting lax and lazy about things. I haven't knit much, but I've been thinking about some things and I've made several big decisions.
Big Decision 1: I need to start a mundane project. Right now, everything I have going is incompatible with knitting nights and movie nights. It all requires concentration and focus. Some of you regulars might be thinking, "what about the BAP sweater." Yeah, I know. It seems mundane, but when you want to do something ultra-nice for someone, you don't want to screw up. I'm knitting PAP continental as well which still requires a little bit of attention to make sure I don't split the fine yarn.
Big Decision 2: However, I'm still keeping my pledge (sorta) that I will not start a new project until I finish an old one. Therefore, I am frantically working on the Farmer's Market Bag so that I can start something new. I'm half way finished with the straps, but the transition from intarsia in the round to intarsia back and forth has really given me headaches. Add into that confusing decrease directions (is "every fourth row" counted as row number 4 or do the decreases take place on row number 1?) which have led to much frogging and gnashing of teeth. It's finals week for this bag. I'm ready to be done with it and it will be through sheer force of will that I will not give up on it. So close, so close.
Big Decision 3: This rule of "staring something after finishing something" does not include gauge/felting swatches. Of COURSE it doesn't! My desire is to make a Sophie Bag like Norma did using Gibson Girl beaded handles. But I didn't get enough Peace Fleece to double the yarn. Harumph. I can't afford a third skein right now unless I absolutely have to, so I wasted a bunch of yarn by swatching so that I can felt and see how well the Peace Fleece felts up in the school's front-loading washers (before and after pics after I've done laundry). A necessary waste.
Big Decision 4: Many of you may be wondering about the fate of the Antichrist Hat. Has it been frogged because the brim is 4 inches too small for my head? Fear not! Here is it's current status. Note the ghetto safety pin stitch marker. I was at home and didn't have my cute ones. I decided that Sammy could really use a cute stocking cap to match the one his aunt will make for herself. And if it doesn't fit him, I'm sure the quads can fight over it. :-D
Big Decision 5: I've decided to join Alison's February fix along. However, most of you will be shocked, SHOCKED I tell you, at what I'm planning on "fixing." That's right, Heather. My first big scarf completion. The Chicago Scarf from Stitch N' Bitch. The keyhole is too low, the scarf too short, and I have half a skein left over. The plan is to rip it back as far as necessary (gulp) and make it at least an inch or two longer before the keyhole starts. Hey! This will be a mundane project too! Yippee!!
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