“The book begins collecting your memories.  And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it.  It will all come into your mind with the very first words: the sights you saw in that place, what it smelled like, the ice cream you ate while you were reading it….yes, books are like flypaper- memories cling to the printed page better then anything else.” ~ Cornelia Funke, Inkheart 

I’m reading Inkspell, the squeal to Inkheart just now, and why not?  It’s somewhat embarrassing just how often I read children’s books for pleasure.  If the quote above is true then this series will forevermore smell of snickerdoodles and woodsmoke and evergreen boughs.  It will conjure images of candlelight and Christmas light, of long, long sleepless nights under the deep dark sky, sharp, spicy ginger tea, snow on snow on snow, with The Nutcracker and harp music for a soundtrack.

It’s the Seraphina show!  All Seraphina, all the time.  Sorry about that!  This is the very first thing I started knitting for her, before I could even prove that she existed.  Knitting for a baby that you don’t know for sure is coming is probably foolish enough, buying yarn for that purpose seemed even sillier still, besides, I wanted to start right away.  So, odds and ends, leftovers from here and there were put to use.  I started it way back when, but put it aside in favor of things that were more size and season appropriate.  I recently did the last bit of finish work.  I wanted to see how less buttons would go, so I only sewed every other one.  Not a good solution as it turns out.  Her foot keeps poking out between them.

I’ve been doing far more sewing then knitting this week.  My mind has been drifting and I find myself fantasizing about post holiday knitting.