If I started the sleeves, that means almost done, right?

As Bill Cosby's Noah would say, Riiiiight.
Now can you guess what I'm making,
even though the back and front
look like sleeves? And the lighting sucks?

Well, howdy, there, blogland...

Been a long time. I've been working my ass off, producing stuff for kids who need to learn English, and in the meantime, I did actually knit on a few things. And now that I'm on Va-Ca-Shun (w00t) I have also had the pleasure of visiting the Yves St. Laurent exhibit in Montréal and then seeing the goods inside Holt Renfrew for the first time. Jimmy Choos really are that beautiful, as are Christian Louboutins. My shopping companion was horrified that I even wanted to try them on, but I am proud to say I did not walk out with a pair of either 5-inch example of gorgeousness. (That's because I didn't try them on. I'm not stupid...I know that if I try on a gorgeously high pair of heels and they fit my size 5 Barney Rubble feet, I'm walking out in them. So no trying on and no purchase.)

Yet. (Sorry, Spiff. I like really, really high heels. Someday when you're forty and none of the young chickies look at you, you'll be thankful your wife likes the really, really high heels.)

Kate Gilbert, who has just produced the incredible Twist Collective, came with me. It's been nearly a year since she and I have traversed the 500 metres or so between our houses to spend time together, but I will give her a break because her latest venture is So. Freaking. Good. (Go see. You will knit something from this issue, trust me.) So Kate can attest that even though I killed my brand new car in the first week I owned it (Oh god. You do not want to know. Twenty years of driving crap cars and the moment I get a good one, I introduce it to a cement pylon in a grocery store), it still works. Also, the big knitted YSL penis does, indeed, look like a penis, and YSL, when he was not thinking about phallic symbols and how they could fit over a female body, kicked ass for colour, detail, and a V where a female body could use a V. I personally am dying for one of the very first gowns in the exhibit, which unfortunately is not in the photo book. It's an orange-red column gown with a twist just below the cleavage. In other words, if I put it on, I would have to decide that it's okay by me if the world sees the middle third of my core, if you know what I mean.

(I would SO wear that if I had a place to wear a gown. Life is too short to not show it if it's YSL showing it for you. Sorry, Mom.)

We investigated the husband-like clothing at Holt Renfrew, and the Hermès turtleneck sweater they had would be so perfect for Spiff. Except it costs $2,395. Um, NO. It is a simple bulky cable and rib turtleneck, so I will be knitting that. It's just too freaking bad that the yarn alone, if I do the cashmere version of it, would be $600. We are currently researching alternative black-and-white marled soft stuff...if anyone knows of a great resource for a marled chunky black and white yarn, I'm all ears. It was really lovely, but I can't justify the price of, say, a year of a child's education, for a freaking turtleneck....

Spiff: His hair is really fucking stupid.
LA: I know. If I paid attention to models and their hair, or their other lack of, heu, attributes,
I'd never see the freaking clothes.
Just look at the sweater, sweetie.

So, for my blogging return for this month, I decided, for lack of a better plan, to interview Spiff, because (a) I'm making a sweater for him, (b) everyone else is posting cutesy interviews with their spouses and (c) hey, he's adorable. I like interviewing him, and I might get lucky later. Sue me.

So, here we go, the spousal meme interview:

LA: What is your favorite thing about my knitting?
Spiff: You make things out of practically nothing. I mean, it's string and sticks, and suddenly it's something real that fits someone. That's extremely creative and I like that. No one in this day and age makes things in a real way, but you do.

LA: (From that fabulously D&D/role-playing answer he just gave, now you know why I put up with all this video game stuff) What is your least favorite thing about my knitting?
Spiff: Sometimes it never gets done. I mean, how long have I been waiting for a sweater?

LA: How long have we been married?
Spiff: I rest my case. Also, it does kind of take over the house. Our music room doesn't exist because the wool still takes over everything.

LA: I'm working on that. (cough) So, do you think knitters have an expensive hobby?
Spiff: Not really, unless you count the wheels.

LA: Clearly, I do not count the wheels. That's not knitting. Ahem...so, do you have any hobbies?
Spiff: Duh. Programming.

LA: Wait a minute. I thought that was your actual day job.
Spiff: It is. What's your point?

LA: No, really, what do you do for fun?
Spiff: Programming IS fun.

LA: (Long silence...)
Spiff: Okay, when I'm not programming, which IS, by the way, FUN, I play video games like World of Warcraft.

LA: Yeah, speaking as a total non-video-game-player, WoW actually is fun. Otherwise, I would not have a level 70 paladin after never having even played PacMan.
Spiff: Yeah, a level 70 paladin who is completely lame at tanking, but nevermind...yes, it is fun, isn't it...

LA: So, if we compared money spent on hobbies, who would win?
Spiff: Ha. That's cheating. Wool is less expensive than electronics, but you buy way more wool than you can knit or spin in a lifetime, so we're actually even. But really, electronics are more expensive. Plus, you can rip and re-use. I can't do that as much.

LA: Has my knitting in public ever embarrassed you?
Spiff: No, never. Why would it? Knitting is cool.
LA: Have I mentioned I lust after you?
Spiff: In the last five minutes? Actually, yes, come to think of it...

LA: Damn. Don't tell anyone...they might think I have a one-track mind. So, do you know my favorite kind of yarn?
Spiff: Ummm...you do have a one-track mind...oh, yarn? heuuu....Alpaca! Wait, no! Uh, I don't actually know, but I'm sure alpaca figures in there somewhere...

LA: You clearly haven't felt silk and merino, have you...anyway, nevermind, you're doing really well compared to most spouses, sweetie. So, trick question: Can you name another blog?
Spiff: Easy. The Yarn Harlot.

LA: That is so not fair. You've had literary discussions with her on fantasy heroes, for chrissakes...name another one.

Spiff: Heuuu...Norma, who is extremely cute for her age because she does yoga, hint hint, has a blog, doesn't she...
LA: Yep, she does. Okay, you're not as bad as I thought, except that you're checking out other bloggers' asses. You are so predictable. So, next question: Do you mind that I want to check out yarn stores everywhere we go?
Spiff: It's a hell of a lot better than you wanting to check out male blogger's asses. Or bra shopping. That's way worse.

LA: I have NEVER made you go bra shopping. (Nice avoidance of the checking-out-asses issue, eh?...)It gives me a freaking migraine. Jesus, dude, I even go shopping for your pants, which is no picnic...

Spiff: Fine, fine, fair enough. No, I don't care if you go yarn shopping, as long as you go in and get what you want and go out without talking for an hour about the next five books coming out or whatever the hell it is you talked about in Montpelier when it took you like a half hour to buy one set of circs...you left me, a French guy, sitting by the side of the road in the States all alone waiting for you and who knows what will happen to me...oh, wait, this is Vermont so they're not so bad...nevermind, but still, twenty minutes to buy needles....

LA: I love your time variations, dude. You went from an hour to a half hour to twenty minutes. And hey, the ladies in the Knitting Studio are wicked nice, their credit card machine went on the blink and they still stuck it out and completed my sale, and the souvenir shop called them just to make sure they were open so I could get circs to do YOUR sleeves on the way back home to Montréal, so quit complaining.

(I neglected to mention to Spiff that they had about five different pattern booklets I hadn't yet seen in person and they were really super super nice and someone had just done a workshop with Steph and you do get talking to wooly funny people and...)

LA: So, Spiff, do you understand the importance of a swatch?
Spiff: A what?
LA: A swatch, sweetie. A knitting test case.
Spiff: Ohhhh, okay, I get it. Yes, I do. Same thing as programming...you plug in what your user has to do on a small scale and see what you get for a result. If it gets fucked up for the large scale, you know you have to re-code.
LA: Umm, yeah, pretty much. You're smart, eh?
Spiff: That's why they pay me the big bucks.

LA: Do you read my blog?
Spiff: You mean, when you get off your ass and post? Every time, darling, every time.

LA: Have you ever left a comment?
Spiff: Only when things go wrong technically. Or when someone says something really snide and I have to step in and set things straight. Or when people ask if you still have a brain. I tell them this is debatable...

LA: My lust is diminishing. Do you think the house would be cleaner if I didn't knit?
Spiff: Sweetie, I honestly don't give a crap about the housework, but no, I don't think that has any effect.
LA: My lust is increasing.
Spiff: You are so predictable.

LA: Is there anything you would like to add in closing?
Spiff: Yeah. When the hell do I get my first sweater?

This picture's more accurate, lighting-wise. Not pink.
Not orange. Not even close.

Just so's you don't all worry that I've lost my head and I'm knitting him a pink sweater, by the way, this is the real colour, a gorgeous dark marled red. It has black in it so it passes the Spiff test. And I just bought a crapload of yarn to knit more for him because apparently turtlenecks are not in this fall, and Mr. Spiff's elbows (which rival razor blades, I tell you) have insured that his stash of sweaters has diminished to an unacceptably low level. I must raise the sweater mana level at once. So, as much as I adore knitting thin...frickin' chunky yarn, here I come.