|Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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Sunday, July 18, 2004 One of my favorite things is a grey rainy Sunday. There is something so liberating about such a day. I never feel like I have to actually do anything when it rains on Sunday. I can, mind, but I don't have to. Rain falling on Sunday signals the great permission: permission to sleep late, to stay in my pajamas all day, to watch movies during the day - something that usually makes me feel inordinately guilty - and to dispense with regular meals. Want to lie about reading a book? Go ahead. Want to draw pictures - feel free. No garden work to do, no chores, no need to start something or finish something.... A rainy Sunday is like Francie's cup of coffee in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn - something to enjoy, savor, or even waste, if I want to.
Oh. Yes. Well, I woke up to a rainy Sunday, of course.
Yesterday dawned sparkly bright, just like the previous two days. BD and I took a hot walk through the west woods. How like him to want to tramp through mosquito-ville - I will know better next time he invites me on a walk. If it's not qualified with words like "to the mile point" or "to Robert's" or "to Daingerfield" I will politely decline. At least, until the first frost. Still, the trek was, as always, interesting. The Indian Pipes are all done with now, blackened as if they had been burned, but the mushrooms and toadstools (is there a difference?) are out in full force. A smooth orange/red one with a bright yellow rim was new to me, though BD, who spends far more time in the woods than I, says he's seen them before. Both of these plants need lots of moisture, and we've had plenty this summer. Not like last summer's endless weepy rains, but in huge thunder storms that roll in from the west, crashing, flooding and departing anytime after 3 o'clock. June was a record breaker for rainfall and July is going to be way up there on the rain-0-meter. There is also a sweep of Enchanter's Nightshade that looks like it's been planted by fairies. It probably was! But it's located in the sunny spot revealed when the behemoths fell during Isabel last September, so it took more than faries to bring on a display. No loss, right? Without some small gain.
And for a delightful essay, including poem, on the Indian Pipes, click here.
I knit a little yesterday, only to see I have to rip it out. La! I'm so bad with this pattern when I have to go back and forth. I think I'll knit the sleeves in the round with short rows at the sleeve caps just to avoid purling back. Of course, that may not be the cause of my constant errors. It may just be a lack of attention, but I don't remember the body of the garment being so full of errors.
I also spun a little - on the Bosworth - making a gorgeous fine yarn from the Blue Faced Leicester I bought at MSW - a twin to one C picked up - wonder what she's doing with hers. I've also cleared the bobbin of the superwash, but I am unsatisfied with either skein that I've made from that slippery fiber. I'll use them in my project, but I don't care for them much. They are entirely too amateurish looking to please me. It's a fiber that will take lots more practice for me to master and since it's such a nice sock fiber I'll have to put in the time on it. But I believe I shall intersperse some more cooperative fibers between my efforts with this.
Since there are two almost filled bobbins of a beautiful autumn yellow merino I bought from St. Mt. Fibers - and several balls of the same, ready to be spun up, I think I'll finish both bobbins today and ply them. How wonderful to have some empty bobbins again. It'll be interesting, too, to see how much, if any, my spinning has improved since I spun up these singles.
Hmmm. Yes. And I checked out LOTR III from the video store. Nice - 2 cassettes - ought to soak up most of the day, no?
posted by Bess | 8:14 AM