The south is totally awesome and I’m lucky that I haven’t died of a heart attack from all of the deep-fried awesome that I consumed this weekend. I have a bit of a weird guilty love for the whole southern belle old money pageanty rednecky stereotype thing, even though my blue-state vegetarian grad studentness tends to constrain me to a certain level of dilettantism. Every time I go to Georgia and encounter a mullet that has endured its twenty-year cycle back to fashion prime, I weep with shame before someone who is at least fifty times more badass than I will ever be.

I’m consoling myself with this token of my still-inflated sense of knitting badassery: I totally finished this much of the Lucky clover-lace wrap sweater in one weekend.

If you look carefully, I’m up in the raglan shaping somewhere. AND I added four inches to the total length. I’ll never fear fingering-weight sweaters again. Please be awed sufficiently by Lucky’s back’s near-completion while you have the chance, because I’m probably going to put this sweater in a box and not work on it again until the next time I have to travel.