Sooo, here's what the bag looked like when dry and after several hours' worth of shaving:
That thicker red part of the strap in the upper righthand corner is the cellphone pocket.
And I guess somewhere along the line I decided to keep it, because I did this to the lower left-hand corner of the flap:
This photo also happens to illustrate where the last 7" scrap of yarn went. Seriously. I cut off many 2" tails after felting and aside from that am officially and thoroughly out of this yarn. None left.
I decided to keep it mostly on the basis that if it took me two and a half years to muster up the necessary energy to make (and prioritize) this bag, it would probably take me that long to do it again. And I'd like a messenger bag a bit sooner than that.
Now I must regroup and work out plans for a lining and inside pockets. I still use the Pouchy Thing to hold the three essentials (cellphone, keys, and wallet (also a knit pouch)), so I would like some sort of place to stow that where I put it every time I use the bag and where I can get to it quickly. It's a little bit too bulky for an underside-of-the-flap lining pocket, and I didn't have enough yarn for an on-the-outside-of-the-body-but-under-the-flap knitted-on pocket, which would have been my first choice. So now I'm considering doing a slice cut in the front of the bag (under the flap) and making that open into a pocket that is separate from the main section. Having a zippered closure on that would also be ideal. This option is the most appealing theoretically, although it also would require the most stretching of my fake-it-'til-I-make-it sewing skills. Much potential disaster lies in that direction.
For the inside lining, I'd like one end to be sectioned off to hold a water bottle, and some flat pockets in the lining, perhaps along the back wall of the bag, also won't hurt. I've recently brought my sewing machine home (long story), so the only thing holding me back from working on it is my foot-dragging.
While the bag has been sitting there waiting for me to care about it again, I've been hard at color work. My Ziggies are done and I couldn't be happier with them.
Well. I suppose I could be happier with them if I'd followed my gut and removed that long section of yarn where the yellow transitions to black. But I'm still mostly hugely happy with them. They fit fine, although they're difficult to get over the heel, and they were very fun to make.
I substituted a shortrow toe for the one called for in the pattern (magic cast-on, I think?), and then substituted afterthought shortrow heels (over 39 stitches instead of 33 to make the heel deeper and hopefully easier to get on). I like shortrow toes and hate shortrow heels. That makes no sense at all, because they're essentially the same thing, but there you go. I'm not really in the market for learning a toe-up gusset at the moment, because I don't really love toe-up all that much.
Perhaps someone has thought of and written down good directions on how to manage the stitches above the afterthought heel, but I haven't found them. Mostly because I didn't look. So just take this as a warning: before acting on that seductive thought: "Oh, I'll just do an afterthought heel!" you might want to look into if it's possible/how to handle those above stitches neatly. This is what you might be faced with if you don't:
Well. You'll be faced with that anyway, but if you have a plan then it might not seem so alarming to you that what is one stitch in one direction is two in the other.
Every time I do colorwork, I'm immediately seized by the desire to do more colorwork. I've decided to go with that and declare 2009 the Year of Colorwork -- which basically means the Christmas of Colorwork* -- which means that I now have an excuse to pour over colorwork patterns and plan a long list of colorwork gifts and start knitting some colorwork right now in the name of Being Ready for Christmas, Dammit.
I've cast on some Dippers in STR lightweight Thraven, which I had earmarked for another pair of Pomatomi but I think of what remains in my stash, it's the best fit for the pattern. Which, actually, in some ways is similar to Pomatomus -- lots of twisted stitches, an undulating look.
Yeah, you really can't see it well, and there's not a lot to look at anyway. Nice yarn, though, eh?
*Except you, Mom. You are getting a gigantic knitted dinosaur. There may be fun fur. Don't say I didn't warn you.