Taking Another Run At It

Well, I've decided to keep going for another week. My current instinct is to plop on the couch with mindless TV and bales of yarn and knit, just knit and watch whatever I want to on the tube, but that's not real practical. For one thing, my boss probably won't hand deliver my paycheck and probably won't pay me if I stop showing up. Oh, that's two things, isn't it? I don't want to eat anything that's healthy or requires preparation beyond shoving a pizza in the oven, and I'd really rather not sweat. Bah, I hate it when I feel like this. Don't mind me, I'll just be here in my cave.

July 11--Cook Islands. The water felt like warm silk as Raine waded in to go snorkeling. She put on her fins once she was hip deep in the light surge of the lagoon, spit in and rinsed her mask to keep it from fogging, and settled it over her eyes and nose. The dangling snorkel mouthpiece was comfortable in her mouth as she took an experimental breath before leaning forward and lying on the water's surface. Small flicks of her fins propelled her out into the deeper water over the reef where fish like the shifting rainbows thrown by crystals in the sunlight went about the business of eating and mating and staying out of bigger fishes' gullets. The water was so clear that Raine felt a momentary vertigo as she glided over a drop off. She realized that it must be what it felt like to fly. The thought sent a little thrill through her middle and down her legs. She had always wished to be a bird and now she could pretend to be one.

Not much going on there, just some pretty pictures. Boring.
--Barbara

Learning

You know you've ripped and restarted a pattern too many times when you don't need to get out the pattern until the 4th row the next time you make it. I have been eyeing the bag of 3 skeins of Mini Mochi I got from Dusty all the while I worked on the 198 yds. of Crazy shawl and now that I've finished the body and am starting on the border, I thought I'd cast on another one with the pretty, rainbow-y yarn. It's DK instead of worsted so I went down a needle size, but it's going to be gorgeous, I can already tell. And I can also tell that I'll make fewer booboos that I have to either frog or fix. I also want to hurry to knit to the next color change. Teehee, it'll go fast.










See my 198 yds. of Crazy? 56 rows done. Yay! I'm anxious to knit the border (only 16 rows!) and then soak it and block it so I can see the wonderfulness that is my first lace project.

First Harvest

The other evening Durwood was out on the patio and when I walked into the kitchen he motioned for me to look at the sky. Oooh, ahhh. The sunset was reflecting on the clouds breaking up after the storms. Very pretty.



On my way back from the parking lot taking the above pictures I saw these, the first few ripe raspberries.






Seems like time to dribble a bit of bleach in the fountain to eradicate the algae. Most of the sparrows have adopted the fountain saucers for bathing rather than the birdbath. The chickadees like it too. I keep hoping to catch sight of a hummingbird flying through the drips.

Ennervating Heat

I could easily lie on the couch knitting and watching mindless TV for the rest of the day and far into the week, but I told the dive club guy that I'd get these articles written and to him by the 18th so I'd better only lay around part of the day. Dusty and I tried to walk on the trail at UWGB but it's too hot and windless and the skeeters were hungry. I hate that buzzing in my ears. We'll tackle it again when it isn't so hot, humid, and still. Did you ever have one of those days when you hate all the purses you own? I'm having one. I pulled all the ones that I own out of the closet and put my stuff first in one and then another, and I think I'm going to change yet again. Maybe I should just crawl under the bed and wait until tomorrow comes. It's bound to be a better day, right? (I'm in one whale of a crap mood can you tell?)

July 10--One Foot Island, Cook Islands. Aitutaki Lagoon is a vision of a tropical paradise. The sandy beach that rims it is whiter than white and the water is so clear that you're surprised that it's so salty. You know what it really looks like? A rich person's swimming pool. The whole island looks like a jet set playground, but it isn't. It's hot, humid, and buggy. Most of the plants have thorns or spines or sharp edges, and few, if any, of them are edible. There's no fresh water on the island either, so if you're shipwrecked or marooned there you're done for. I kind of admire the island for being a beautiful death trap. It's the South Seas version of "don't judge a book by its cover."

Well, that's most definitely sucktastic. Sorry to inflict it on you on the weekend. And happy 50th anniversary, To Kill a Mockingbird. Go read something.
--Barbara

One Article Written, One To Go

The secretary of the local dive club found out a couple weeks ago that I'm a writer. He asked me if I'd be interested in writing some articles for the club newsletter. What do you think I said? Yes, of course. He emailed me a couple of story ideas last week so I've been working on them. I got the first one roughed out over the last couple days, I'll go through it another time with my trusty red pen, then I'll email it to him for his edit. I'm guessing we'll be working back and forth like that until we've learned each other's style and needs. The other idea is too big for the speed he's looking for, we talked it over and agreed to table it until later, but I woke up this morning with an idea on how we can put it in July's issue and still do the thorough job it needs--a series. It's brilliant! I'm brilliant! Now to get him to agree. I'll spend today doing online research and roughing out the first installment and my ideas for the rest. I'll email a source or two for more info, and then present the package to John next week. What's not to love?

But first I need to post my nightly prompt writing and then go out before the sun hits that side of the house and plant the irises and the "hardy perennial garden" (a daylily, some coneflowers, an iris, and daisies), all of which I got off the clearance pile in Goshen. Who can resist 75% off flower bulbs? Not this dirty-fingered girl. And I want to go to Walmart later (once the sun gets to the side of the house and it's too hot to be out planting) and look at the bike racks for my car. I want to take my bike and ride the trail with D&A but right now I have no way to hauling my bike except in the trunk and that's a pain. I think I can get a rack for under $50, that'd be good. Okay, here we go!

July 9 (Happy birthday, Aunt B!)--Zanzibar. In the flat light, the water off the beach looked white, not blue. It couldn't be that shallow, Leah thought, there was a little fishing boat anchored not far offshore, so what made it so white? She stood listening to the soft lap as the water slid up the shallow slope of the beach and then back on itself. There was rain out on the horizon, she could see it slant out of the clouds, but not a breath of air stirred on shore. Leah wondered where Jake was. He hadn't been in the bungalow when she got up, hadn't been in the dining room when she went in for coffee, and he wasn't anywhere on the beach. Was this the day he said he was going fishing early? She rubbed her hand over her brow. Two glasses of the deep red, local wine with dinner was one glass too many. Her head was throbbing and she'd found a big bruise on her side when she showered. Now that she thought about it, her waiter, Teme, had looked at her a bit strangely when he'd poured her coffee. Had she made a fool of herself last night? She needed to find Jake and ask him. She swayed with momentary dizziness. Maybe she'd go and lie down for a few minutes first.

Well, that has possibilities, doesn't it? Yeah, like I ever go back and work more on these. Ah, well, at least I give them temporary life. Off to play in the dirt.
--Barbara

Ahh, Less Humidity

So much better. Today it doesn't seem like a person could cut out a cube of the air and squeeze out a drink of water. Dusty, Julie, and I walked 3.5 miles on the trail this morning. We took our time because it's still hot but it was good to get back out there and sweat, not pant and gasp, just sweat. I want to get out and mow so I only have to shower once today, so here goes...

July8--Fihalhohi, Maldives. Nan lay awake listening to the soft sound of the ocean lapping against the pilings of their bungalow over the water and the clatter of palm fronds overhead. It had taken more than a full day to get from O'Hare to this tiny 20-acre island and she had no idea what time it was. Well, she could see the clock on the bedside table said 2:47 AM but her body had no idea whether it should be awake or asleep. It seemed like it was always 11 AM in every airport she was in over the last two days. O'Hare to London to Rome to Istanbul to Delhi, to the Maldives, it was always around 11 AM like time had been following her like a faithful but confused dog. She had lunch but felt it should be breakfast, lunch that ought to have been supper. They brought a meal when she arrived. She ate it but only wanted to sleep. She turned over and punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape. Could an person die of jet lag?

Poor Nan, jet lagged and grumpy on a tropical island. We should all have such problems, eh? I'm off to mow and sweat some more.
--Barbara

Drat!

I think I'm so smart sometimes--and then knitting rears up and slaps me in the face. I found a hoodie pattern in a book DD has and borrowed it. Then I found this yarn on sale. It's alpaca and wool, it's red, I love it. I cast on the required number of stitches and I got gauge. But it looks too small to cover me, way too small. I closely examined the yardage per skein of the suggested yarn vs. the yardage of the skeins I have. Grrr, my beloved yarn has twice the yards per skein as the suggested one. Which means I have to rip out what I have (fortunately only an inch or so of ribbing) and figure out a way to make that red hoodie that I'm dying for. It was just too good to be true. *sigh*











I am making big headway on my first lace project. The 198 yds. of Crazy shawlette is knit through 2 repeats of the rounds, I'm going to do another full repeat instead of the half in the pattern because it's pretty small and I've got a whole 'nother skein of the wool so I won't run out two inches from the end of the border. Dusty, whose idea this whole thing was, decided that it wasn't the pattern for her and is moving on to other projects. I don't mind, I'm enjoying the challenge




I decided to keep going on my Sun Visor cap even though it's looking pretty big. You knit an i-cord onto the back that you use to adjust it so I'm figuring that I've got a pretty big bean anyway so I'll just knit away and see what happens. I think the yarn's a bit more worsted than the suggested one so that explains that.







And I cast on yet-another project the other day. It's a Spring Fling Wrap using the pattern I got in Goshen and some of the yarn I bought at Loops on its last day. Once again the yarn's thicker than the suggested one but I like it so I'm keeping on. It'll be pretty with the mohair ruffle on the ends. I've got some forest green with a hint of purple that I think will be just the thing. See? I have purple too. Maybe I'll use that.






I'll decide when it's time to add the ruffle.