Words, Words, Words

I love words. It's why I have shelves and shelves of books. Books in every room. It's why I don't have a library card - the overdue fees I rack up are enough to buy the books outright. It's why I am so enamored of the Pillowbook from Knitalong. It's also why I'm having such a hard time deciding on the text.

Martin from Knitalong left a comment, that he sees the pillow as something to be used, and the text should be something that will hold up (not merely structurally). You wouldn't believe the welter of books I have pulled off my shelves in the quest for that apposite quote, the one I will still want to read the 100th time I've shoved the pillow under my head. Children's books, poetry anthologies, plays modern and not, novels, collections, are piled on the kitchen table, stacked next to my favorite chair, heaped on side tables. I have this ongoing commentary running in my head to the effect of "this one might do, then again this one might, or maybe not, maybe, perhaps, it could." Nothing has struck me with that sense of rightness, that recognition, the conviction that, "Oh, here it is! This one!"

Meanwhile, I continue down the practical path. I've gathered up all the paraphernalia. My sewing skills being less than admirable, I've opted for a "boughten" cotton pillow cover that matches the construction and dimensions Larissa describes, at least reasonably closely. I'll applique the knitting to it.

Once I know what I want to say.