Fixed It

 By this morning I knew that I couldn't leave the wonky pocket on the Dress no. 3 I finished

yesterday so I got the seam ripper and picked out the stitches (which was a pain), repinned it, and resewed it.  Much better.  It was a lot less of a problem than I thought it'd be.  I know you didn't see the "before" but here's the "after."  All nice and tidy.

This Downy Woodpecker came to investigate the empty suet feeder and evidently found enough crumbs there to keep its interest long enough for me to snap a couple shots.  I'm sorely tempted to fill one side of the feeder to see if the squirrel will leave it alone.

I went down to the sewing area this afternoon and between 2 o'clock and 5 o'clock I sewed up this pair of oatmeal colored linen Pants no. 1.  They were already cut out so that's why the sewing went so quickly.  They even have side seam pockets!  All clothes should have pockets.  I say so.

There was a pair of Mourning Dove snuggled together in the grass this afternoon.  I love doves, they're such dorky birds.  They seem clumsy and like they really don't know what to do and how to do it.  A dove made its nest in the window box at our old house.  All she did was fling down a few twigs on the dirt, laid a couple eggs, brooded them, and when they hatched brought food for a few days and then flew away.  The babies were all right, it just seemed like such a casual way to raise chicks.  Worked for her though.

10 September--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's.

It was a little after two o’clock when Fay shyly sidled over to the table where the three women still sat, gray heads bent over clicking needles and mounds of colorful yarn.  Only one of them was peering at a pattern; that made Faye a little intimidated. 

Dorothy looked up as she hesitated.  “There she is, the world’s newest knitting fool.” 

“Well, fool I can believe, but knitting fool?  I am not so sure I can learn something that complicated,” Fay said to her with an apologetic grimace. 

“Do not be silly,” said Iris.  “In places like India, little tiny children knit and for pay too so they can not just be goofing around.  They have to earn money to support their families.” 

Patti nodded.  “That’s right.  If little kids who can not even read can knit, you certainly can.  Knitting is really just two basic stitches like we said.  We will teach you the first one today and you can practice.  Next week we will come to lunch again,” she held up her hand to stop Iris from speaking, “yes, we will, Iris.  And we will teach you the purl stitch.  Once you have those two stitches mastered you are home free.  Every knitting pattern no matter how complicated it looks is just a bunch of variations on those two stitches.”  She scooted her chair over.  “Here, pull up a chair and we will get started.” 

Dorothy leaned across the table holding two pointy wooden sticks toward Fay.  “I have some extra needles you can borrow.  These are fairly inexpensive bamboo ones so you do not have to worry about losing one; they are easily and cheaply replaced.” 

Fay took them.  “Thanks, I will take good care of them.”  She ran her fingers up and down the smooth wood.  “Feels soft.” 

“I like how they feel in my hands too,” Dorothy said.  “Wait until you work with them.  They are great, but you might find you like the wooden ones or even metal ones best.  Every knitter is different.” 

Iris handed over a skein of sage green yarn.  “I had a few extras floating around in the bottom of my bag.  It is a bit of wool left over from a sweater I made a while back.  I do not know why it is still in my bag.  It must have been waiting for today.” 

Fay shook her head.  “Wool is scratchy.  I do not think I want to knit with wool.  I like soft things.”  

Iris pushed the yarn into her hand.  “Oh, just take it.  You can learn today with this and then get something softer later.” 

“Okay,” Fay said not wanting to hurt their feelings.  She took the yarn.  The three of them watched her face as she realized what she was holding, knowing smiles on them all.  “I, uh, Iris, you did say this is wool, didn’t you?” 

“I did.”

 Fay lifted the ball of sage green yarn and smoothed it on her cheek.  “It is not scratchy.” 

“No, it is not.” 

“And it is wool.” 

“It is wool.  Look at the label.”

 “Eighty-eight percent wool, twelve percent acrylic,” Fay read aloud.  She looked up at the faces smiling at her.  “How come it is not scratchy?”  

Dorothy said, “Magic.  Now let us get started.  I am so excited that you are learning to knit.  Now we will have someone else to bitch to.  Iris, get her started.” 

Today's toss was a bunch of cans and 2-liter bottles of soda that had been downstairs for years.  The soda in the bottles was totally flat but the seltzer was still fizzy.  In fact the first couple cans sprayed me in the face.  Guess I need a class in remedial can opening.

Every night I am irritated by my inability to fix that gap between the first and second lines of this blog entry.  I've tried everything I can think of and nothing works.  You probably don't even notice but it bugs me and it bugs me that I can't fix it.  Grr.

--Barbara