Size Matters

 

Yarn size, that is.  Remember yesterday I talked about the ragg yarn I'm knitting with being listed as bulky but not knitting up the same as the previous bulky yarn?  Well, I finished the brim ribbing this evening and laid one on top of the other.  Look at the difference!  I'm using the same needles, the same pattern, and the same stitch count and look how different they are.  The ragg hat is even narrower than the alpaca was the first time I knitted this hat.  Maybe I'm knitting a youth hat instead of an adult hat.  I'm amazed at the vast difference in yarn classifications.  A sweater out of this yarn would be a debacle, especially if the knitter neglected to make a swatch (which is a practice piece of knitting so a person can figure out their gauge with a particular pattern, yarn, and needles).

That little young Cardinal was back today, sitting on the birdbath rim, sipping water.  It was all puffed up and it's topknot was tucked down.  It was warm but breezy today so I was surprised to see it all fluffed up as if it was cold out there.

The mums are blooming like crazy.  The coral red one is really putting on a show.

I was looking at the sedum yesterday and saw a bee making its way from floret to floret.  If you look to the right of the flower you can see it just there at the edge of the bloom.

I finally got to pick up DS today and take him to pick up his van.  I'm sure he was completely relieved to have his vehicle back.  And the governor lowered the crowd capacity for bars and restaurants to 25% which means a whole lot fewer people in the taproom.  If the weather holds, people can still gather on the patio but it's October in Wisconsin.  There aren't that many more warm-enough-to-sit-outisde weeks left this year.  They need people to buy the six-packs in stores.  If you live here, go to Festival tomorrow.  Please.  Buy some Zambaldi Good Dog Porter or Yard Games IPA.  You won't regret it.  I don't like beer and even I like these.

07 October--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

During the first dancing lesson Fay and Norman struggled.  He would zig and she would zag, both of them trying to lead.  The instructor split them up in the second lesson, asking them first to dance the steps alone, then pairing them with a more experienced partner.  It was hardest for Fay because she kept wanting to move forward when she should be moving back. 

“Back, Fay, back,” the instructor would say, “let Mike lead you into the steps.” 

But she kept charging into the dance steps, so the instructor partnered her himself. 

“Slow and easy,” he said, as he steered her into a turn.  “Did you ever watch Fred Astaire movies?” 

“Yes, I did, I loved Ginger Rogers’ dresses and shoes.” 

“Don’t watch your feet.  And do you remember her mostly moving backward?” 

“I guess,” she said. 

Progress was slow but when he said, “If you lead, your skirt won’t swirl like Ginger’s did.”  That did the trick. 

Fay wanted her skirt to swirl in the worst way, so she slowed down and let him lead.  She got it.  “Oh,” she said, “that feels better.” 

By the end of that lesson Fay and Norman were back dancing together doing a creditable waltz. 

“Next week, swing dancing,” the instructor said. 

As he helped her on with her jacket Norman said, “If we hurry, we can get to the diner for a piece of pie.” 

Fay smiled at the hopeful note in his voice.  “Okay, I could eat pie.” 

She was surprised to see a few of the morning regulars in the diner when they arrived. 

Taffy hurried toward them with menus in her hand, “Anything wrong?” 

“No,” Fay said, “we’ve been at dance class and need pie.  Is there any blueberry left?  Norm likes blueberry.” 

Taffy showed them to a booth.  “What kind of pie would you like, Fay?”

Fay craned her neck to see the pies in the bakery case. “I’ll have a big slice of banana cream.” 

Taffy left to collect their pie and Marcus came up to the table. “What are you doing in here at night?” he said. 

“Getting pie,” they said in unison. 

“Oh.”  He carried a full bus tub into the kitchen.  They heard him say, “Hey Brady, Fay and Officer Bates are here.” 

Brady’s head poked out the swinging door.  “Everything okay?” he said. 

Fay threw up her hands.  “For Pete’s sake, can’t two people get pie in the evening without all these questions?”  

Steve walked up from the back booth, briefcase in hand.  “I’m here because I have a deadline and it’s my favorite place to write.  I had lemon pie.” 

All three of them laughed.

Taffy reached around to serve their blueberry and banana cream slices.  “Coffee?” 

Fay shook her head.  “Nah, it’ll keep me awake.”

Norman said, “I’ll have decaf.  It’s too late for that high-test stuff.” 

They lingered over their empty plates, Norman drinking coffee and Fay going over every step they’d learned that night.

            As he walked her to her door, Norman said, “You called me Norm.”

            “Yeah. Like it?” She twined her fingers in his.

            He brought their linked hands to his lips and kissed her fingers.  “I like it.”

Today's toss was a bunch of summer clothes.  I'm in the process of shifting from summer to winter wear and culling the "didn't wear this" items out as I go.

I'm struggling with the urge to eat all the things.  Up to now, it hasn't been this bad but I could easily throw caution to the winds and go nuts.  I won't because I'm not going to screw up all my hard work but I'd really rather not feel like this.  I want to be all sunshine and roses, not angst and resentment.  Stupid pandemic.

--Barbara