Please stop don't stop creating all this beautiful yarn! I have the hardest time letting it mature in my stash, even for a day. Right out of the lovely package, on to the swift and winder it goes.
And the greens -- I know how you love green, but please stop don't stop dying the irresistible greens! Green Over Apricot, Spring Green Over Lemon, and now this: Lime Over Mint. It's too much, really it is.
I think there will be a Backyard Leaves scarf knitted out of these two skeins. I've used this Sport Merino yarn before, and I've been wondering when a new color would come along and tug at my sleeve.
Honestly, Sundara, you've got to stop keep dying these glorious yarns.
:::
Is it nap time yet? Probably too late for one now...wish I'd thought about it sooner! It's going to be hectic at the bookstore for the next five days, and I have hemming and packing to do for my trip to Chicago next week. My niece Rachel, the recipient of the Monkey socks, will be graduating from college. I am tremendously proud of her, and I can't wait to see her receive her diploma.
And then there's the matter of my birthday. I had to schedule myself to work on Saturday, but who wants to work on their birthday? Maybe I can slip out at noon. What kind of cake do I want? That is the next question.
Edit: When I posted this, I noticed that the extraordinary greens of this Lime Over Mint yarn seem to be missing from the photographs. Annabelle says she ate them, but I think it was more likely due to the camera's inability to capture perfection. Perfection, I tell you.
Montauk Point on a Sunday afternoon...I just love that happy little wisp of a cloud.
Rho and I planned a trip to Purl by the Sea, a newish yarn shop in Montauk. It's a trek, but I love the drive, especially on a day like today. Well, the yarn shop was closed. Yes, we should have called first, but when the website says "We are open 7 days, 9am to 5pm," doesn't it seem reasonable to assume that they'd be open? Oh well.
We found ourselves in Montauk on a spectacular afternoon, so we made up our minds to have fun. We drove out to the lighthouse, had sandwiches in the sun on the observation deck, and I took a few pictures.
On our way back west Rho directed me off the main road to Lazy Point, where she spent many happy times as a child with her aunt and uncle. It's at the edge of Napeague Harbor, which connects with Block Island Sound. I'd never been there, but I love exploring all the little roads and quiet places. There's always an interesting house, or an old boat landing, or a newly-occupied osprey nest, or a grass-covered dune just around the next bend.
Our landscape is low and spare, for the most part; but out there, to the east, the hills and dunes are surprising. I love the flat parts, the shallow angles of water to shore to land. I love the big sky, and all the different blues.
And speaking of blues... here are my finished Blue Suede Shoes socks. They are still quite damp in this picture.
::Yarn: Crown Mountain Farms Sock Hop handspun superwash merino.
::Pattern: Simple stockinette, garter-stitch flap heel, round toe.
::Needles: Crystal Palace dpn's, 2.5mm for the leg and 2.25mm for the heel and foot.
I'm now enjoying this little sock sprout salad of Fleece Artist Sea Wool. The luscious yarn and the Peridot color, along with this little twisted stitch, are a really lovely combination. I'm using Bryspun needles for the first time, too. They're working well so far.
After one of the most stressful work weeks in a long, long time (and such a long, long story, too!), today's adventure was just what I needed. It's finally Spring, I spent some time with a good friend, and I got to be in some of the places that always inspire me. My well is full again.
I've always had a hard time fitting in. Aside from my own little tribe of siblings, I had no group to belong to, no community when I was young. I made a terrible Girl Scout, and I didn't make friends easily. I felt outside, never in. As I grew older, a gradual shift occurred, beginning in college. At last, a place I belonged! Well, sort of. I was scared and insecure. I held back.
Years passed and I noticed a further shift; I had connections to small communities of weavers or spinners or journal-writers, places I felt I fit in, and people didn't blink an eye as they included me. How strange! I was still insecure, just not so scared.
Now here I am, nearly fifty-two years old, and I marvel at how comfortably I fit in. I have friends and communities, things to do and opportunities to seize, and doors to open. Lucky me!
When I stop to think about the terrible events at Virginia Tech, my sadness comes from way down deep, from where my own loneliness, fear, and isolation used to live. I can't let myself imagine how it must have felt to face the man with the gun, or to be the man with the gun.
All I can do is wish that Peace will come and comfort everyone who has been hurt.
Final endorsement is, um, pending...
