All I really want to do...

...is start something new. I have a short trip coming up this week, involving airports and airplanes and other sitting around, so I need to be sure I take enough knitting, right? It's best if the projects are small, and not too pattern-intensive, right? And having choices makes a person a happier traveler, right? I have enough socks to work on, so I need something else, right? Okay, then. That's settled.

So this ball of peacock-colored merino is about to become a simple mistake rib scarf for Mister C., the most wonderful book buyer/general manager/co-worker in the entire book business. I'm thinking Christmas, but his birthday is in early December. Either way, the scarf will be done in a week or two, and I will be a happier traveler.

~:~

I'm still reminiscing about Italy. Here's a picture of Villa Vignamaggio in Tuscany. The sky on this afternoon was a bit overcast, so the colors are sort of washed out, but Oh, what a place. This was where we stayed for a few days before returning to Florence. [My sister's and my room was in another, much smaller building, up steep stone steps and through an arched doorway. We felt like we'd stepped back in time, except that the bathroom had a whirlpool tub.]

This is where I got to make a few paintings, but I have to say that the landscape and the history were a little bit overwhelming at first. Me, painting in the Mona Lisa's front yard? A Tuscan landscape, no less? Oh, pinch me. Hey, the whole trip was an unimaginable dream, so who am I kidding? I was actually there. I'd love to go again, but I'll still need to be convinced that it's real.

~:~

I made a (for me) large stash acquisition yesterday. Our local department store, which actually has a fabric and yarn department, had a big bin full of yarn marked 60% off. I came home with eight balls of Patons Canadiana and four balls of Patons Pure Wool. I thought I'd use it for Dulaan projects, but I forgot how much I dislike knitting garments with all-acrylic yarn, even when it's very nice all-acrylic yarn. The wool will get to be hats and scarves, but the Canadiana will have to wait until the right project comes along. I'm thinking baby blanket. One of these days some niece or nephew will expand the family, and I'll be ready.

Oh, Italy

One year ago today my sister and I arrived in Florence to begin our Italian adventure. Our little group had walked from the hotel to the Piazza Della Repubblica. When I turned around, this is what I saw:

I was near tears, in love and awe and with a heart about to burst with the magnitude of what I felt and saw.

Then we walked on to the Piazza Del Duomo. I looked up, and...

It's safe to say that I changed forever, right then.

And I hadn't even painted a single watercolor, or seen Botticelli's "Birth of Venus," or had any of the experiences that the next week would bring. Little did I know what was in store for us!

~:~:~

It's Autumn at last -- official sweater-knitting season! I'd better get back to the Fabulous Manos Wildflower Pullover, then. Today, though, I made a third hat for Dulaan. I started it at the knitting circle, where I relaxed and became more comfortable and actually enjoyed myself (it was easy, now that I have revised my expectations). I finished it this evening. I'm going back to my Italy-dreaming now...

Sock progress and some sweet memories

The Rib and Cables sock has overtaken the Go with the Flow, after an unfortunate frogging incident involving a heel flap miscalculation.

According to the Rules of Frogging, the knitter is permitted to throw the frogged item into a corner for ever a few days, or until the unfortunate frogging incident is no longer quite so painful.

[You'd think that since I went to all the trouble to recalculate the original pattern to fit my foot better, and since I actually wrote the calculations down, that I'd remember to use them on the second sock, wouldn't you? Naaah, that would make too much sense.]

I posed the Here and There scarf, too, all finished and blocked. It will be warm and cozy come winter.

:~:~:

I've been pondering Knitting Circle dynamics, with interesting input from Amie and Martha. I'll just let it be what it is, and not expect more than an afternoon of knitting. I'll either get to know the group, or I won't.

You see, I seem to have expectations. Long, long ago (in 1981) I began to attend a journal class with my friend V. We'd been invited to join the Wednesday night class by Bunny, the teacher, who was a fabric artist we'd met at a small show we'd all three been in. She began each of the three fifteen-minute segments by reading quotes and ideas -- things she had gathered from her reading, or what someone in the class had written the week before -- and then we'd write. "Think with your pen on the page," Bunny would say.

We took turns reading to the group, and Bunny and anyone who wanted to could comment. Well, that very first night we sat there, shy and nervous, as a woman we'd just met read the horrible, painful, powerful story of her rape. She just read it, unwavering. The faces around the room were full of love and shared pain.

I have never felt so trusted, so intimate, so tribal, as I did that night. I spent the next ten years going to journal class on Wednesday nights. We shared our souls, wrote poetry and drivel, laughed and cried, struggled to survive the death of one of our dearest friends, and ultimately, the death of our teacher. We wrote in many living rooms, in summer and winter, with and without our beloved Bunny. And always, we shared ourselves easily, palms up, hearts wide open.

That's way too much to ask of a Thursday afternoon knitting circle.

Sunday and a sock tale

I ordered a little bit of Fortissima Colori sock yarn from Elann this week: two balls each of "Irish Mists," "Harvest Apple" (Wowza! That's a bright one!), and "Tropica." I like the colors, and of course, the price doesn't hurt. Sock yarn hardly counts as stash anyway. I brought it home and set it aside for later, after I finish the second Go With the Flow sock. I'm on the heel flap, about to turn the heel, and it's good knitting. I'm plugging away on Dulaan hats, too, and I want to finish the knitting part of my Amazing Twining Lace scarf so that I can begin the necessary mental preparation for The Grafting. All in all, this is a good week for knitting.

But then, almost before I knew it, I had knit this:

It's the cuff of Nancy Bush's Rib and Cable socks from the Fall issue of IK. No matter how hard I try, I can't control myself. I have no will power. I am weak. Pathetic. Seduced and helpless.

The Go With the Flow sock, however, has other ideas:This is a rapidly developing story, so stay tuned.

~:~:~

My local knitting circle reconvened on Thursday, and it was, shall we say, interesting. I took my place at the table with much enthusiasm, thinking that this would be like a real live KR, and everybody would share and gab and become fast friends in that special Knitterly way. There was a strange vibe -- was it Shyess? Defensiveness? I don't know you so I'll just knit this sock-ness? I sat back and tried to be quiet (I had begun to feel like a Party Girl, which I am most definitely not). I think I'm hungry for some Real Woman Bonding, and I need to lower my expectations here. This is a diverse group of women who have come together because they knit, and they're probably looking for the same things I am, but whatever it is will have to develop over time. Isn't that how it happens in knitting circles in the rest of the world?

I had to stop listening to Sound and the Fury. It's not a listening book, it's a reading book. It's very powerful and strange (in a good way) and I'll get back to it soon. In the meantime I'm listening to Room With a View, which I adore because it is set in Florence, and I miss Florence. I've also joined the Knit One Read Too book group, and the October book is Yellow Jack by Josh Russell. I ordered a copy from my favorite local bookstore: me!

So it's Sunday. The Here and There scarf is drying (if Miss Annabelle can keep her not-small rear end off of it, it will be dry today). The laundry du jour is in mid-cycle, the weather is absolutely gorgeous, and I am going to a birthday party for J's mother, who is turning 91 years old. I've known her for 33 years, too!

I hope your Sunday, like mine, is just the way you like it.

Quiz time

This is RoseByAny's doing:

1. What is your occupation? Bookseller-in-charge at an independent bookstore. That's the same as manager, but I like the word "bookseller."
2. What color is your underwear? Purple. No. Pink. I had to check.
3. What are you listening to right now? The hum of the air conditioner.
4. What was the last thing you ate? A Luna bar.
5. Do you wish on stars? Not in a long, long time.
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Burnt orange or periwinkle blue.
7. How is the weather right now? Muggy, after a bit of rain.
8. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My friend K, who was on the way home from work this evening and had a little time to yack while he was in the car.
9. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Yes! Never met her, but I think we'll remedy that at the KR Retreat.
10. How old are you today? 50. Five-oh. Half-century.
11. Favorite drink? Morning coffee at Villa Vignamaggio in Tuscany, where you get your own little pitcher of hot steamed milk, and a little spoon that clinks just right as you stir.
12. Favorite sport to watch? Baseball and downhill skiing.
13. Have you ever dyed your hair? Hell yeah! (That was such a good answer that I had to borrow it.)
14. Do you wear contacts or glasses? Glasses. Can't see a thing without them.
15. Pets? One cat, but she is a handful. And a lapful. In a good way.
16. Favorite month? April or September. I love the changing seasons.
17. Favorite food? Sweet? Ice cream, preferably sinful chocolate. Not sweet? I second Amie's fettucine alfredo, only I like mine carbonara, with bacon.
18. Favorite day of the year? Winter Solstice.
19. What do you do to vent anger? Have a fit.
20. What was your favorite toy as a child? The dollhouse that had been our mother's. It had the original furniture, porcelain dolls, and real wooden doors that opened and closed. And little sheets and pillowcases. And tiny, tiny silverware.
21. Fall or Spring? Fall.
22. Hugs or kisses? Hugs.
23. Cherry or Blueberry? Blueberry.
24. Do you want your friends participate in this? Yes. But how will they find it? None of them knows I have a blog.
25. Who is most likely to respond? I don't know. Hello? Is anybody there?
26. Who is least likely to respond? See above.
27. When was the last time you cried? Last week.
28. What is on the floor of your closet? Dirty laundry, shoes, Ashford bobbins, a television, some books, a few baskets, and empty plastic bags. I don't know how it got that way, I swear!
29. Who is the friend you have had the longest? My friend J, who I met on our first day of college in 1972. Our little college made the roommate assignments alphabetically. What are the odds of that working?
30. What did you do last night? Watched TV, had a bit of dinner, talked on the phone and surfed online, knitted a third of a Dulaan hat.
31. Favorite smell? The ocean. The air just after a cleansing rain. Bread baking.
32. What inspires you? Seeing the inspiration of others. Creativity. Courage.
33. What are you afraid of? Being stuck in traffic on the middle of the Verazzano Bridge and it's bouncing and swaying just enough so that I actually notice that I'm sitting on a bunch of cement suspended from cables. Oh, and losing people I love.
34. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Cheese.
35. Favorite dog? My sweet Jillaroo, who was an Australian Shepherd.
36. Number of keys on your key ring? Five.
37. How many years at your current job? Ten years this summer!
48. Favorite day of the week? Sunday, when I don't have to go to work.
49. How many states have you lived in? 5, plus Washington DC.
50. How many cities have you lived in? Actual cities? 2. Houses? 19, no 20.

Rave

I did a little yarn shopping today, but not for myself. My dear niece B, who's just started college in Michigan, learned to knit this summer. Sort of. We were in a motel in Maryland, I was knitting, she said let me try, I said here, use these needles and this extra ball of yarn (Crystal Palace bamboo circs and Peruvian Cashmere!) and off she went. Sort of. Her knitting sloped, it slanted, it had amazing unintentional texture, but it was knitting, and she was having fun.

Then I'm back at home in New York, and the next thing I know, I get a call from her. They're in the car, driving back to Chicago, and the knitting came off the needles. It's dark, and she's bouncing around in the way back of the SUV, but she wants to start over. Three attempts later (three dropped calls, that is) and I have to hope that she's got it. Let me just say that telling someone how to cast on over the phone is not easy, and that hanging on to the phone, listening, and casting on is no piece of cake either.

I found out later that the needles broke (sat upon, I suppose) but B had gone off to college with a new pair of an unknown size, and that same old ball of cashmere. Good, but I can improve on it a bit. So that's what I did today. Two balls of Moda Dea Cache in a color called "Rave" and a pair of Clover straights, size 10.5. I started a garter stitch scarf for her, so that she could knit right away. She's a process knitter already -- she needs to occupy her hands -- and she can learn to cast on next time. Now I just need her address!

Oh, and B's wonderful sister R reports that all her house mates at her college have taken up knitting, and that they "don't do anything but sit at home and watch TV and knit." That sounds familiar to me!

Speaking of knitting and TV, which are best done together, last night I finished the Here and There scarf, and all it needs is a little blocking. I'm at the heel of the second Go With the Flow sock (finally), and then I'll be free to get to work on my Manos sweater (which at this point I am afraid will make me look like a Tutti Frutti Michelin Woman, but I'll keep going anyway). Knitting is good, isn't it?

A Sunday treat

I scooped up the R's, their mother J, and their pal I for a long-awaited watercolor afternoon at Morton Wildlife Refuge in Sag Harbor. I've lived here for 12 years, and yet I've never really explored this beautiful place. It has a maritime forest, dune bluffs, beaches, marshes, and shady paths where chickadees will perch on your hand if you have bird seed for them. [Okay, if you forgot to get seed, and all you have are bread crumbs, they'll light, stare at your palm in confusion, and fly away. Ask the kids how they know this. The path was declared "Chickadee Heaven" anyway.]

We set up our plein air studio on the deck (thank you, Park Service!) that sits on the sand between Little Peconic Bay and Noyac Bay. Here I, J, R and R are facing Clam Island, that mound of green in front of them. Three of the five of us immortalized that view. [We'll probably hold a group exhibition once we get an agent.]


So we became artistes for the afternoon. It was incredibly bright, and hard to photograph, but you get the idea. The day spent together and outdoors was absolutely delightful. [We're not counting the moment when one R tumbled backwards off the bench and landed on her elbow; but it's okay because nothing's broken, and she gets to wear a sling for the next few days.] Our paintings make us smile. The R's are my favorite people in the whole world, and their mother and I have been best friends for 33 years.

This is where I get to live. This is available to me every single day, if I choose it. My world still contains tragedies, sorrows and heartbreak, just like yours does; but I can always turn to these friends and these surroundings for comfort and reaffirmation. I'm blessed beyond measure. After yesterday, and after Katrina, I am counting my blessings and trying to share them.

:~:~:~:

Knitting, you say? Knitting? I am one foot away from finishing my cabled scarf; my knitting group starts up again this Thursday (yay!); I'm making a big old Rhinebeck Wish List. That's the knitting right now!

As I was saying

Cerulean, with a touch of Thioindigo violet near the horizon. Too bad my little painting isn't presentable! It needs a "little work." I had a nice time, though. I sat at the edge of Mecox Bay, which touches the ocean in an ever-changing swirl of sand bars, depending on the season and the weather.

I need to paint a little more often. It makes me happy.

Cerulean day

Finally, a day to myself. A small work obligation will take me to East Hampton, but that means I'll be near the art supply store, where I have some lovely gift certificates to spend. I've been wanting a tube of watercolor called "Opera" -- a bright red/carmine concoction that I've dreamed of adding to my palette. And if I hear the whisper of the perfect Number 6 Sable brush, I just might answer.

It's a beautiful day, and I could stop at a beach somewhere (now that Summer is over, we can go to the beach without a pass or fee) and spend a bit of time by the ocean, maybe with a brush and paint and paper. This is the best time of year here, when the exquisite East End light seems to sharpen and clarify everything, and the sun makes the world glow. The greens are softening, and the grasses are taking on a purple hue that means their season is ending. The dome of the sky is right-out-of-the-tube cerulean (its grainy texture is perfect for capturing the sky on these days).

My desk is covered in papers, there's laundry to do, and I really have been wanting to organize some files. They can wait.

One evening's occupation

This is the baby panda at the Washington National Zoo. You can't have him, because he's mine, but I'll share a picture. I watch him on the PandaCam. Once you start it's hard to stop. I think I might have to visit him when I'm down that way.

This is my first Dulaan hat. Three hours flat (er, in the round, actually). One strand Peruvian Highland Wool, one strand Peruvian Alpaca, size 13 needles. Easy-peasy, double-layered and everything!

It's official: I made it through the summer.

Still not knitting

I can't. I'm too tired and the week has been too much for me. Tomorrow is Labor Day, though, and the exodus will begin in the early afternoon. The Summer People will have one last glimpse of the ocean, buy one last book, and then they'll turn towards home, to New York City or New Jersey, or even somewhere else on Long Island. They have had a good summer, I hope, and they didn't get washed away by a hurricane.

I can't think or write as clearly as Catherine, so I'll just tell you to go read her blog. Today's New York Times has two powerful op-ed pieces by Richard Ford and Anne Rice. Come to think of it, today's Times op-ed pages are worth a good, long look anyway, because there's a lot of truth being told. I can't be a political blogger; I can't shape my thoughts into words as well as I would like. I witness, though. I pay attention. I am present. This stuff matters to me, and I am grateful to all those who can write with eloquence and power.

I want there to be good news, so I've an idea to share something nice and normal and mundane:

• Clara sent out the roommate assignments for the Retreat, so it's really real now. I'll do a happy dance when I recover from this past work week.
• I saw "Pippin" at Bay Street Theater in Sag Harbor the other night. I'd dreaded it for some reason (too tired, too many people, etc.), but of course it was just what I needed. I went with my friend J, her marvelous girls, the twins R & R, and their grandmother. The R's were all pre-teen and sweet and silly, and they got B. D. Wong's autograph. Their neighbor (cute boy alert!) played Theo. J and I always say we need to do things like this more often, and it's true. Our next adventure: Rhinebeck.
• You know how I have loved and lived for blueberries -- well, they're sooo last month. Local peaches are my new New Thing. They'll save me, for sure.

I'm needed at work for a little while today. Somehow it doesn't bother me all that much. A few hours, then one final push through tomorrow, and I will have made it through the summer!