Sittin' and Knittin'

I met some friends at Zambaldi this afternoon.  We sat in the sunshine and knitted for a couple hours.  Naturally I forgot to take a picture until I was walking out the door so that's what you get.  It was a nice enough day that the crowd was smaller but that was okay.  We had a nice time.





I worked on Car Knitting Warshrag #16 because it requires only a little thinking and the other things I have on the needles require quite a bit of thinking.







I did manage to wrap my mind around finishing Mod Pillow square #4 before picking up the warshrag, though.  There was no way I was going to pick up stitches and cast on #5 while talking.  Heck, I have to pause my audiobook when I do it at home so there's no way I'd be able to accomplish that out in public.



 
This is the sight that greeted me when I got up this morning (at the regular time; I went to bed early last night to try to forestall DST lag and it kind of worked).  All of the daffodils opened up overnight.  So cheerful and bright!  Well worth the five bucks.



Sunset tonight wasn't too shabby.  The temps got to near 55 degrees in the middle of the afternoon but there was a brisk wind that kept it feeling like the high 30s.  Not exactly what we'd hoped for but every sunny day is a good day.


I tried to keep working on the black wool/cotton mitt I cast on yesterday but got to the cable and discovered that the yarn doesn't have a bit of stretch so it was nigh impossible to make the cable so I pulled out the needles and wound the yarn back into a ball.  That Mod Pillow is enough of a challenge; I need something mindless so I switched to a different yarn and a simpler pattern.  I'll try those cable and lace mitts another time with a different yarn.

08 March--Barbara Malcolm, Three Cheers for Murder.  

Surprised, Sheila asked, “A cheerleader?  What would make you think that?”

“According to my mother, the only worthwhile young women are cheerleaders.  In my experience they’re pretty, shallow, peppy and completely self-involved.  Every man’s dream,” Marlene nearly spat out the words.

Confused at Marlene’s vehement response, Sheila inquired, “Wasn’t your mother a cheerleader and didn’t she coach the professional team’s cheerleaders?  Were you a part of the squad?”

“Yes, Mother was a cheerleader during her high school years, and she coached the squad while I was in high school and college.  Well, until her death in an auto accident.  And, no, I was never a part of it although she never stopped trying to mold me into one of “the Y’s”.  She actually called me “Marly” for a while.  Can you imagine?   I was never interested in prostituting myself that way.  I had other, higher interests than displaying myself before hundreds or thousands of people.”

“Sounds like you resented your mother,” Sheila asked tentatively.

“Wouldn’t you?  If she constantly tried to make you over in her own image?  I was never good enough as I was.  “Fix your hair!”  “Try this new makeup.”  “Here are some decent clothes that’ll make you look cute.  Try them on.”  “Stand up straight!  Get your nose out of that tome!  DO SOMETHING WITH YOURSELF!”  I was relieved when she died in that accident.  At least it shut her up and got her off my back.”

“What about your father?  Where is he?”

“I don’t know.  I’ve never known who my father is.  There’s no name on my birth certificate.  I always figured he was one of those overly friendly professional football players she was so in love with.  I’ve never really missed him.”  Marlene crossed her arms and glared at the hapless woman from the Chamber of Commerce.  Sheila hastily searched for a way to get the interview back on a friendly basis.

“I’ve noticed the unique way you’ve decorated your apartment.  Tell me a bit about the things on your walls.”

Relaxing a bit Marlene looked around the room.  “Well, the plants I’ve pressed and framed are things I grew in the tiny garden out front I made in the planter boxes along the windows.  Some of them are from my summer in the Southwest.  The masks and totem items are also from that summer.  I’m especially proud of finding and classifying this flint knife.  It was part of a large cache of weapons and tools I uncovered.  Luckily there were many such knives in the cache, and I was allowed to keep this one as a memento.  It’s very sharp.  As sharp as the day the maker finished it.  A perfect weapon.  The mottos are just sayings I’ve come across and liked over the years.”

“You sound wistful when you speak of that summer.  Why didn’t you pursue a career in anthropology or archeology?”

“The winter after that wonderful summer my mother was killed in an auto accident and I inherited the business.  I needed to complete my education and it just seemed that fate dealt me this hand.  I guess I was destined to be what you see.  A colorless, uninteresting spinster,” she finished drably.

“Oh, Marlene, you sell yourself short.  You could be a lovely woman if you only fixed yourself up a bit!  And being a bookseller brings joy to so many.  And you’re a kind of detective, finding books that are rare or out-of-print.  I think that’s interesting.  Sorry, I guess I sounded a little like your mother there,” Sheila apologized.

“Yes, you did.  Not a happy memory.”

We're supposed to have rain all day tomorrow.  I can't wait.  Maybe I'll just sit and knit the day away.  This wasn't a great week for sticking to my eating plan so I'm not looking forward to getting on the scale in the morning.  But it's a new week and a new start.  I'll just put it behind me and keep moving forward.
--Barbara