On My Mark, Get Set, GO!

As we speak my suitcase is just about ready to be zipped shut.  I have all my writing stuff, my knitting stuff, my printer, books loaded on my Kindle, tea-making stuff, the case ready to receive this here laptop are all on the bed behind me.  I need to get dressed, grab a carton of yogurt and a banana for tomorrow's breakfast, kiss Durwood goodbye and I'M OFF!  Not that I'm excited or anything.

I realized yesterday how very tired I am of knitting the same things lately so I took my incipient sock project and something out of the "onsies" bag to knitting last night and cast them on.  Getting the Inside-Outside Scarf started took some concentration (and a few rip-out and restarts) so that's well started.  You're supposed to use two of the same color yarn with long color changes and start at one end of the skein with one and the other with the other so the color changes cross but I don't have any suitable yarn like that (and I am not buying any) but I do have these two different colors of the same yarn so I'm putting them together.  The darker one has more dramatic color changes and the lighter one's changes are more subtle.  I think I'll like it--or somebody will.

Casting on the sock took a few tries too, I don't know why, probably too much talking, so there're only 3 rounds of cuff but I'm going to like it even if it is blue because this is my favorite sock pattern.

September 24--H. Mark Weidman, Stunted Tree.  Glenn stood swaying on the sun-blasted rocks.  He'd drunk the last of his water an hour ago.  Maybe it was two hours, maybe a millennium ago.  His tongue felt too big for his mouth and he wasn't sweating.  His clothes rasped his skin.  They were crusted with salt from evaporated perspiration and dirt blown by the never-ending wind.  There was a tree not far away.  He thought it was a movie prop tree, maybe a Tolkien tree.  It had tufts of unconnected branches and cast no shade.  He swayed toward it.  Maybe there was water nearby.  He took a few steps and found himself sprawled across rocks hot enough to burn his already sun baked body.

Things aren't looking good for our hero, but things are looking great for me.  I'm outta here.  Talk to you next week.
--Barbara