Eep, we did it! We closed on the house! I signed my initials to countless pages of hoodoo legal jabber ensuring that I’ll wind up in debtor’s prison if I don’t bestow vast chunks of my net worth on the bank each month. My signature now appears above the words “Borrower #1” on a tome of documents thick enough to stun an ox. Mr. Garter’s “Borrower #2.” We are the borrowers, and we drifted through the rest of the afternoon in a bubble of ether heady enough to fend off the Dear-Lord, what-have-we-done panic, at least for the moment. We even managed to open five new bank accounts along the way. (Our new bank is adorable. They gave us t-shirts designed to welcome us to the city and to promote local pride. Mr. Garter’s is egg-yolk yellow and says “Portlander”. Mine is sky blue and says “PDXIST”, which sounds vaguely illicit in a pleasing sort of way.)

Most importantly, we caught the last ten minutes of the France v. Spain match at a bar near the title company’s office. I have a long-standing affection for Les Bleus, having been in France during their victorious ’98 World Cup ride, and having been educated about the players and their merits by a lot of enthusiastic little schoolboys. (I was nearly run over by the Team Austria bus while riding my bicycle near their training center, by the by.) So I was happy to see them go through to the quarterfinals, and delighted that Zizou made that beautiful final goal.

I’ve turned the heel and worked the gusset of Pomatomus, and I’m swooning over the perfection of this yarn and this pattern in company. Pictures tomorrow, if there’s time between taking Mr. Garter to the dentist and both of us to the chiropractor and back to the bank and over to help my aunt move some of her things… And if I can catch my breath after all that, I’ll relate to you a most marvelous Sockapaloooza story.

We’re off to Mr. Garter’s parents’ beach house for the weekend to celebrate. Knitting content when we return, I promise!

Even on the days when living in New York got me down, I always felt it would be a fantastic place to visit. Turns out I was right. Best of all was the time spent with loved ones: my brother and his girlfriend, Mr. Garter’s godmother and her husband, my pals at The Point, and of course my dearest Spiders. (Psst…check out Steph’s gallery for pictures of me holding Little Miss Adorable herself, baby MJ! And Lisa has a picture of MJ sporting the little ribbed jacket I made for her.) I even got to watch the World Cup in Spanish, thanks to Steph’s mad DVR skills. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!

And ultimately, New York came through for me on everything but the weather. That’s right, I bought yarn and jeans! Steph, Lisa and I took a little field trip to School Products, where I snagged a couple of lovely gunmetal grey skeins of Italian laceweight merino. Never mind that I already have two of these little babies in a stormy blue still waiting to become an Ene’s Shawl for my mother. I also couldn’t resist the ridiculous 50% sale The Point was having on Jaeger Siena cotton, so I grabbed five balls of a very springy green. It should be enough for a tank, so who’s got suggestions for me? What are your favorite summer top patterns that might work for a yarn that knits up at 28 x 38 on US 2-3’s? I’m thinking I’d like a camisole with a lace element. I really love the one Becky made, but I don’t have an easy way to get my hands on the Phildar pattern.

And the jeans, did I mention the jeans? The stars were finally aligned for jeans shopping on Thursday, and I made out like a bandit at the Macy’s sale. I collected so many promising pairs to take to the dressing room that I thought I’d better take notes. You see, I’m terribly picky about the way jeans fit. If you’re like my mother, who steadfastly adheres to the L.L. Bean model with the high waist, full seat, and tapered legs, jeans shopping is never a problem. But I’m still a relatively svelte young thing, so I figure I might as well enjoy sexier jeans while I can. And a good pair is much harder to find. The current fashion for long pants generally suits my leggy 5’11” frame, but if they’re four inches too long on me, who exactly are they supposed to fit? And can we talk about low rise for a minute? I’m totally happy to see waist lines move south of the belly button, but the general public does not need to see my hip bones, nor the foothills of my gluteus maximi. I like to perform the squat test to see what I’ll be baring should I need to bend over or sit in the course of the day. Affiliated with many low rise jeans is a troubling phenomenon I like to call the Stand-Up Comedy effect, in which the waist band doesn’t curve back in with the body after the hips, but projects laughably straight up from the fullest point of the pants. Exactly what shape would I have to be to fill such trousers, particularly above the buttocks? No belt in the world is going to cinch all that in comfortably. Finally, there’s the issue of the jodhpur region. You know, that area on the upper outside of the thigh that’s a little troublesome for those of us who don’t have model spaghetti legs? Many pairs of jeans actually accent any bulginess there, and that is no good thing. A little extra compression in the jodhpur vicinity is a little more flattering to most of us. So here’s what I found:

Wranglers: unkind jodhpurs, and too long, producing a strange baggy knee effect.

Earl Jeans: (My most fashionable cousin, Rachel, looks great in Earl Jeans. She claims they lift and separate.) But these are too flared at the cuff, too much compression in the behind, and too distressed. (Did I mention how stupid I think it is to pay money for something that’s already been artfully shredded? I can wear my pants out just fine by myself, thanks.) Very poor performance on the squat test.

A.B.S. Jeans: decent all around, good waist. Slight damage to one knee; only $15!

Buffalo: (Oh great, I thought. Just what a woman wants to feel like when she pulls on her pants in the morning.) But sexy! Nice contours in the back, and now I see what Rachel means about the lifting and separation. Perfect length. Try to remember that 29″ x 33.5″ is the perfect size on future shopping trips.

City of Angels: good overall, but a little more distressed than I’d like.

Mavi (2): (My previous jeans were Mavis, so I had high hopes.) But these displayed poor gluteal shaping, with stand-up comedy. One pair was extremely low rise – no muffin top effect for this girl, thank you very much.

Indie: comfy stretch, appealingly dark color. But wide pockets spoil the rear view, too low rise, worst in squat test. Next!

Born in California: (My northwest prejudices make me disinclined to like them already.) Good length, but fail the squat test. And only middling in the lifting and separation departments.

The final choices? Buffalo wins – they’re more expensive than I’d like, but for 20% off I can stomach the price. Especially when I threw in the A.B.S. for good measure. If I buy two pairs, I won’t have to do this again for a long time! And when I average the prices, I’m only paying $35 for each pair, and that’s within the limits of what I’m willing to spend. Woot!

Now I’m back in Portland, being thoroughly perforated and drool-bespeckled by my happy cat. Fingers crossed for the job interview I had this morning, okay everybody? This afternoon I have to meet the appraiser and let him into My Soon-to-Be House so he can do whatever it is appraisers do. Yes, we’re buying the house! When Mr. Garter gets back from New York next weekend with the camera, I’ll show you some pictures of it. I think you’ll agree it’s absurdly cute.

Nothing like opening with a complete nonsequitur: Dang, this site looks bad in IE. Get thee another browser if you’re still using it – there’s a brave new world out there!

Ciao from drippy, dismal New York. I surely picked the wrong week to visit, weatherwise. And also cultural events-wise – Shakespeare in the Park opens with the Scottish Play, featuring Liev Schrieber and my personal heroine Jennifer Ehle… the day after I leave. I am heartbroken. If I didn’t have a job interview (for a job I really do want) in Portland on Tuesday, I would absolutely change my ticket. Who doesn’t want to see Lizzy Bennet become Lady Macbeth? It’s like a twisted fantasy in which life at Pemberley goes horribly awry. But back to the weather: nothing but clouds and rain and sodden tennis shoes for the past three days. And my one mission (to find a new pair of jeans that fit, for cheap) failed completely. Sixteen pairs I tried on, and the only one I liked was missing its metal fastener. Had they been even cheaper, I would have bought them anyway and come up with a creative solution. But they were so Haute Designery that even with the massive Century 21 discount, they weren’t quite attractive enough. Sigh. Mr. Garter doesn’t understand what could possibly be so difficult about finding a decent pair of jeans.

Knitting-wise, progress is steady on the Viennese Shrug sleeve. I think I’ve finally found the perfect combination of ignoring and not ignoring the pattern. No more batwings, and although the sleeves may come out a little longer than the designer intended, I think I’ll like them that way. And I should have just the right amount of yarn (knock on wood). (Nonsequitur number two: We knock on wood so that the naughty spirits who live in the wood won’t hear us and thwart our plans and assumptions that all will be well. If there’s no wood nearby, you don’t have to knock.)

I’ve also taken on a deadline project, for actual money. I don’t think I ought to say much about it here, but it’s a sample scarf for a magazine that I’m knitting up for somebody else. Anyway, I get to use Rio de la Plata, a yarn a little outside my price range that I’ve coveted for many moons. Awesome yarn, and cash? Sign me up, baby. These days I’m all about the freelance work, which is why I’m spending valuable knitting time proofreading young adult novels (okay, that’s something I love doing, so the fact that it requires my full attention and precludes knitting doesn’t chafe too badly) and summarizing legal depositions. So how much the merrier if I can freelance knit? Rosalind is tapping her foot and still waiting for that crochet edging, though, and Conwy#2 still needs a foot.

But I think I may blow them both off and head to Macy’s. I’m not in New York too often these days, you know? And I do have a credit there from the return of a bridesmaid’s dress. Tomorrow I’m meeting Steph and Lisa for a yarn crawl to School Products and Habu, so it’s just as well if I save my real money. Just don’t be too surprised to see me in the same shabby old jeans for a few months. I promise to knit patches if they develop any holes that compromise my virtue.