This is the wisteria that is trying to keep me from leaving my house. I call it Audrey. I managed to get out, though when I came home she'd reached all the way across the door in an attempt to make me fall backwards down the stairs when I tried to open the door. I lived, but Audrey is in for some serious pruning in a few minutes.
Was that enough of a distraction from the fact that there's no knitting to show?
I am doing a lot of knitting, but none of it can go public yet. It's exciting for me, but a little dull for anyone who comes here to read about knitting. Like Bess, I got a wonderful package of yarn from Spirit Trail Fiberworks. And like Bess, I am doing insanely creative things with beautiful yarn on small needles, and all will be revealed eventually. I'm having a blast. But you can't see yet.
HP Day went by in a minute. We survived, the customers were thrilled (mostly, but the sour ones just didn't get a goody bag), and we almost sold out. That was a first for us. And a last, thank goodness -- I can't imagine that there will be another book with such a huge one-day laydown any time in the foreseeable future.
When the truck of books arrived on Thursday I was the only one in the store who could deal with them, and the truck didn't fit into the alley. I was helped by the kind folks from the shop next door, and together we got all the boxes up on to the loading dock and out of plain view. Later on we stacked them inside the store, but those first few minutes were rough. Each book weighs 2.8 lbs. Each carton weighs 28 lbs. We had 80 cartons. You don't need to be a math whiz to know that that's a lot of books.
But it's over, and things have been calmer so far this week. It's been perfect beach weather, which helps. August is just around the corner -- our busiest month. If I stay with my excellent plan to eat sanely, rehydrate frequently, and enjoy my time off, I'll make it.
I've been trying to capture the color of this yarn for a couple of weeks now -- and though I don't think I've succeeded, I'm conceding. This will have to do. It's Brooklyn Handspun Signature Superwash Merino in the color "Marigold." Yowza.
All I did was donate to Claudia's MS ride, and I won 480 yards of fingering weight yarn! Thank you Claudia! Congratulations on your successful ride!
That brings me to another donation/raffle prize opportunity. Purlewe is riding today in the American Cancer Society's Bike-a-Thon. Won't you go on over and click on her link to donate? I'm going to provide some incentive: a luscious skein or two of Sundara Sock Yarn will be added to her prize stash. If Anj can bike 69 miles, I can help out a little.
It won't be Blue Grape Hyacinth yarn, though. That's already on the needles. I finished the first sock a few minutes ago and cast on for the second. The rest of my knitting time today will be spent weaving in blanket ends. I promise.
The B's are back! Dell shipped the keyboard overnight, so my fingers have been tripping the Light Fantastic across the snappy new keys since Friday afternoon. From now on, all typos are my own fault.
I'm taking deep breaths today, for tomorrow we begin Harry Potter Week. I already know it will feel more like Harry Potter Year, but them's the breaks. Nobody's forcing me to be a bookseller! If I survive, I'm sure I'll have tales to tell.
Here's a little suggestion for anyone who tends to talk on their cell phone in public: Nobody likes to hear your end of the conversation, especially when it consists of repeating, several times, "Are you hung over? You sound hung over. I'm in the Hamptons." Now, I don't know anyone who would do that, but someone must have known her, because she was talking to him/her on the phone...
It's one of those weeks. My schedule is erratic, my days off are confused, my head is swimming with titles and to-do's. While it's absolutely wonderful that a beautiful, healthy baby boy has entered this world, we miss the presence and help of the new mother.
Not only that, but the Groom (remember the wedding?) leaves for Ireland next week, with the Bride following in another week. She'll be starting her graduate studies in September. My little work family is leaving home! We'll find new staff, I've no doubt, but for now I'm a little weary, and kind of sad.
Oh, and Harry Potter is coming.
I have a tiny rant: I've had this Dell laptop for about four years now, and the damn B key has just decided to, well, stop working unless I hit it really really hard. I removed it, cleaned under and inside it, did everything I could think of -- but I had to order a new keyboard. While I wait I suppose my typing will have to continue to feel aggressive. I end up feeling aggressive after any time spent trying to type!
If you notice any missing B's in anything I've written, please just smile and move on. I try to correct them as I go, but sometimes it's just too much trouble! The space bar has issues, too, but not if I press it just so, and only on the right-hand end. I do need a new keyboard. I wish I needed a new computer, because I'd like to switch to a Mac, but try as I might, I can't justify it for the B key and the space ar.
My thoughts have been with Laurie today. Her beloved Roy passed away. If you have ever had a spirit guide in the form of a cat, or some other small creature who just always seems to know who you are and what you need, then you'll understand why just thinking about what those two meant to each other makes me cry.
This cat of mine, this Annabelle, has been keeping me company for eight years with her quiet steadfastness and her great sense of humor. Before her, Emma was my companion on some of the rockiest paths of my entire life, and she was a tireless trailblazer and guardian.
It makes perfect sense to me that in Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy the humans' very souls are embodied in their daemons, and one cannot live without the other.
I'm almost finished knitting the baby blanket, and I've started to weave in the many ends. I should be able to deliver it next week. While my enthusiasm for this big thing didn't fade, exactly, it was a casualty of my attention span. There have been many days (most of this week, really) that I'm too tired to knit more than one row on a sock, if anything. Hauling out the blanket, setting it up in my lap, getting in the groove -- impossible.
The rest of this summer will have to be devoted to socks, I suppose.
I'm enjoying this sock. I think I am enjoying it too much, because I should be finishing the ripple baby blanket. Babies don't wait. [This one sure didn't, because I just got a call from C's husband to say that she's been admitted to the hospital! Yay! Must knit!]
But when I have a little time to knit, I'm so drawn to this heavenly blue and these little X's that I just give in. The knitting is slow on 2mm needles, but I am having such a good time. This is Cross Hatch Lace from More Sensational Knitted Socks in Sundara Yarns Blue Grape Hydrangea.
Now that I've decided (sort of) to follow the knitting rather than a plan (learn this, conquer that), I notice that I'm honing my techniques and trusting my instincts. I've changed the way I knit socks in small ways, likely not noticeable to a casual eye, but very noticeable and satisfying to me. My cast-on tail has never been hidden so well. My turned heel is tidy and without "ears." My gusset join is perfectly gapless. My toe is usually round, with a lovely spiral of decreases that fits me perfectly. The best part is, I know how to accomplish these things intuitively. When did that happen?
I think it's been evolving for a while, but because I've been working on some design projects this year I've become more aware of the small details. I've had to be clear about how to accomplish them, and that clarity has been added to my little bag of tools.
I found a wonderful book this week -- Mildred Armstrong Kalish's Little Heathens: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression. I couldn't help myself, with opening words like these:
I tell of a time, a place, and a way of life long gone. For many years I have had the urge to describe that treasure trove, lest it vanish forever. So, partly in response to the basic human instinct to share feelings and experiences, and partly for the sheer joy and excitement of it all, I report on my early life. It was quite a romp.
When a "little" book like this gets the front page of the New York Times Book Review I pay attention. I'm so glad I did!
The wisteria is a bit confused. There are a few blooming tendrils like this pretty one I photographed this morning.
There hasn't been a single day this summer that I've really wished for air conditioning, but today is hot, and I got my wish. Installing my window AC has been a dreaded annual ritual. My perfect landlord D is willing to haul it out of the basement through the Bilco doors, up my long staircase (I'm sure he added that landing just so he could pause for breath), and put it into the front window. And he reverses the process in October, too. This year I bought a new and very energy-efficient one, so "all" he had to do was get it upstairs from the back of my car, but still ... the man is a saint.
I guess I'll be setting that sock aside for now. A little baby boy will have a soft cotton blankie before long, if I just make it so.
Or the week, or the month, for that matter? I'm so unsure of time that this extraordinary Petals Collection shipment caught me by surprise. It's called Blue Grape Hyacinth.
That I am losing track of time is a good thing; most years, I am a ragged mess by July. Our lovely weather helps. That the Summer People are still being relatively civil helps. Having things to look forward to helps (I'm talking Septebmer, October, November...).
I've been so random about knitting, though. I'm not far from finishing the baby blanket, but I can't seem to stick with it. I had half a sock all photographed and ready to show, but all of a sudden I didn't like it, so it's gone. I need to wind the second skein of Bambu for my niece's Tilting Block scarf, but I just ... haven't.
I've been home all day, pleased that the breeze is blowing the curtains, happy to feel so comfortable, and content to putter. But what was I doing, admiring the blue sky and the sweet air from inside my house? Silly me! So I went out and did a few errandy things.
I love being at home in the late afternoon, though. My mind winds down along with the day. Annie is attentive to my every move, waiting for her little dish of dinner. (What kind of cat thinks that one tablespoon of wet food is enough? Mine, apparently.) There's a big old crow out in the yard who harasses the blue jays, creating quite a racket, and the thump-thump of the neighbor's stereo provides the background rhythm.
I'm already thinking ahead, to what I want to do tonight, to what I need to do tomorrow, and to the rest of the week. They're just this and that, these late afternoons, but I treasure them.
