I succumbed

OK, I finally gave in and joined ravelry. I'm sannasbag. I am just dipping my toe into the maelstrom so far. I need to be very firm with myself because I already have several holes to pour my spare time into, and the loom sits warped, ready, and ignored on the back porch while pounds of roving await my spinningwheel and attention. Not to mention the writing, and a couple of boxes of fabric that can be sewn into quilts. . . Oh, housework should get wedged in there somewhere, too. And the Portland Purls are knitting at my house on Saturday, Sept. 12. And then there's that pesky paying job . . .

I am, however, down to only one project on the needles - and it's a brainless knit for quite a while, so I can manage a lot of other things while doing k2,p2 for 20 inches.

It rained last night. Today really feels like early September. Everything is washed clean and yet the brown edges are starting to show. And three long-married couples I know are splitting up. I first noticed the seasonal shuffle when I was in college. Spring and fall, couples split and re-combined. It was all so casual in college, though. You collected your stray hair clips and lipsticks from his place, threw away his razor and athlete's foot gell when you ran across it in your medicine chest, had a good cry, and went to class. Now, people who have been together over a decade have property to split up. And custody questions. And they try to be rational, civilized adults while their arms and legs are being ripped off because that's how a divorce feels. Meanwhile, people who love them both have to stand back, not take sides, be loving friends to everyone, and hope that the divorce thing isn't contagious. Major bummer.

Ending on a more positive note, DH is taking tomorrow off and we are going to the State Fair. It's a long-standing tradition of ours, to go the Friday before Labor Day. Fewer crowds then. So we can stroll the vendor's booths and buy beef jerky and fudge and maybe a new pot or pan for DH. We'll cruise the sheep and goat barns, look over the 4H project shed (Farmer's kids need to learn how to weld. Did you know that?) We will wander through the women's building where I will get inspired by the quilts and sweaters and spinning, and scold myself again for not getting my poems into the poetry contest in time. I will marvel at the biggest turnip and the best dahlia, and the way the canners have sliced the carrots exactly the same size and shape and arranged them in the jars like jewels. Pickles with each cucumber exactly the same length. How many flats of cukes do you have to pick to get a jarfull of identical pickles? And I'll eat kettle corn and frozen yogurt and stay the hell away from the deep-fried turkey legs. And we'll go home with our heads packed full of more good memories. "Preserve your memories. They're all that's left you."