I thought I knew where I was....

Damn. Wouldn't you know it, I thought I knew where I was in Cable Eight, and then I actually checked to make sure, and no. I am not where I thought I was. Which is sad. Because being there would have been really nice. But I am not.

Instead, I have to rework the math a bit. And me and math, well, we haven't had the best relationship.  Part of it was admittedly my fault. I needed glasses. I sat far away from the board and didn't learn well.  Didn't see the point in studying.  And then there was the time I spent in The Big House. In an effort to get me caught up, my parents enrolled me in summer school at Villa Maria.  Catholic school. Run by nuns.  While I really liked my nun (she drew a portrait of me and gave me a cross when I was parolled done with the program) the kids in my class were complete basket cases.

There was the kid who ate chalk. He was NINE years old, people. 

The girl who would make a decimal point on the board and then was mysteriously unable to STOP making the decimal point. (The nun told her that decimal points should be the size of a pea when written in chalk, NOT a grapefruit). 

I came away from that program hating math even more, and feeling like something was wrong with me.  Yeah. (My sister insisted on going too, but ended up being able to do math at TWO grade levels above her current grade.)

My relationship with math improved when I studied logic, and when I had to teach myself Algebra II and Trig.(My teacher was nearly incomprehensible.)  But sometimes I get stumped. Especially when math disguises itself as a word problem:

Meg needs to decrease 34 stitches over 17 rows while staying in pattern to achieve a perfectly symmetrical v-neck.  Now Meg has checked her knitting and discovers that she needs to decrease 34 stitches over 14 rows, so recompute. 



So yeah, if I try this without paper and pencil I get hopelessly lost and decide that there are better things to work on...like a baby bonnet with a repeat pattern that requires counting to 6, then counting every fourth stitch, then dropping stitches for four rows.....

...or maybe I will dig out a nice scarf.

ciao, bellas.

p.s. Thanks for all your input on the everyday versus good china. After talking with my mom and dad, I think I will register for good china.  It turns out there isn't any china coming down to me through the family so I might as well get it now.