A few years back when the Harry Potter books and movies were all the rage a few people designed knitting patterns for things either seen in the movies or as an homage to a character or situation much loved by fans of the series. In Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix Harry's best friend, Hermione, starts knitting hats that she hides around the Gryffindor common room in an effort to give the house elves that clean and cook for the students their freedom, which they actually don't want. (it'd be a long explanation, just trust me) Dobby, a house elf freed by Harry Potter in a previous novel and now working at Hogwarts School, collects them all and wears them one on top of the other so this hat that I'm knitting looks like five hats piled one on top of the other. I was intrigued by it when I bought the ebook Unofficial Harry Potter Knits last year, I picked up a big bag of small amounts of tapestry yarn when LC destashed before her move to Arizona, and finally decided just to go for it. So I picked out colors that were in the neighborhood of the ones shown in the pattern photos, did some figuring since my yarn's a couple sizes bigger than what's called for, and started knitting Hat #1. I got Hat #1 attached to Hat #2 yesterday, need to knit a few stripes on that one, and then move on to Hats #3, 4 & 5. It's silly, I don't know who'll wear it, or even who it'll fit, but I want to make it so I am. *nods confidently*
Last night when I should have been getting ready for bed I cast on and knit a few rows on Sudoku Lime block #8. It'll be the right thing to knit on tonight at Friday Night Knitting because there's so much talking going on that it's hard to follow a pattern so simple, no-thinking-required knitting is best for group knitting, and these blocks are exactly that. This Sudoku throw has been loitering in the background since 2008, it's time something got done about it.
We've had a pair of oriole kids coming to the feeders this last week. They're the ones that I thought were a whole different variety of oriole but they're not, they're oriole teenagers. A pair of them come to fight over who gets to eat the grape jam first and this morning one of them had to have a bath. Now that's a bath!
The only flower worth noting right now is the Gerbera daisy I bought at Easter that is rising, phoenix-like, from the crown of old leaves with new green leaves and a bright red flower starting to open. Way to survive, daisy! I need a book of plants--flowers and veggies--that thrive on neglect. Or is it only weeds that seem to thrive through drought and hail and overwatering? I seem to remember a botany prof in college saying that weeds are perfectly good plants growing where you don't want them to.
July 31--Greg Hadel, New Directions. London stared at the compass cupped in his hand. The weak spring sun glinted off the brass case and made him blink. The arrow pointed off to his left. That meant he was facing east but the sun was sinking over the hills to his right. That should be south. The needle pointed north. He'd learned that as a kid in Scouts and then later on it SCUBA class. It had been hard to trust his compass underwater so in the early days he had made a lot of ascents to doublecheck his heading. He looked down at the white face with its black degree marks and bold, block letters for the cardinal directions. The needle pointed to his left and the sun was sinking to his right. One of those things had to be wrong. The sun set in the west. Even allowing for his being above the 45th Parallel his right should be west. The sun hadn't moved. The Earth rotated on its axis turning where he stood away from the sun. Staring at the needle wouldn't change where it pointed. Something about trusting his compass underwater kept niggling at his consciousness.
Hm, that has possibilities. We've got a couple errands to chase today so I should probably post this, finish my coffee, and get dressed. Sayonara!