Taps.

I took the lap top in to the Geek Squad today and they kindly told me that my dinosaur has begun to fossilize. What I have now is essentially an elaborate electronic paperweight. Rest in peace, old laptop.

Moreover, when I asked about a new laptop, the nice Geek told me about Windows Vista, and how things will probably be much better after the first of the year when windows comes out with all the fixes. So, I may be blogging without photos for a few months. Will you love me anyway?

To see some wonderful photos in the meantime, go to 5elementknitr.blogspot.com. Or check out cabin cove. Dave takes such good photos that he has picture goodness just oozing out of his pores and puddling up around his feet.

In common with most of the people I know, I had a burst of tidyituss today and took apart the pile of boxes in the garage for recycling. It took only 90 minutes or so to flatten and bale them. To cut the string, I used the switchblade I found in the grass at the fair one year. I keep it for cutting string because it feels so "cool" and "tough." It's a crappy little knife and more dangerous to the holder than to anyone on the other side. But it flicks out with a very satisfying snick, and it's almost sharp enough to cut cotton string. I just have to saw at it a little.

The people next door to us have covered their lawn with that spider web stuff, and set up a remote-control spider about the size of a pug dog that will run out from behind the bushes at the flick of a switch. I'm such a piker! I have only three nice little jack-o-lanterns. They're very good jack-o-lanterns, but not a touch on the stuff the rest of the neighbors are doing. Oh well, if the kids don't want to bother with our house, it means more candy for us. We got two thirty-bar selections from the Mars candy company. Thank you Costco!

Hope your holiday is safe and sweet.

My laptop has died of old age.

Four years ago DH insisted I needed a laptop computer, so we went down to Gateway and got the est deal we could find. He was right, of course. I really did need it, and it has been such a useful tool for the whole trying to get a book published thing. Today, I turned it on, and I could hear it power up, but the screen was black. I repeated the process, with and without battery, electricity, accessories, and anything else I could think of. I carred it to different corners of the house, thinking maybe the anti-communication curse had expanded. Next comes a pitiful trip to the friendly Geek Squad.. If they can't help me, I will need to start shopping again. I hate this. You spend a ton of money on something and in no time at all, you have to go out and spend a ton of money to replace it because it broke. Four years! FOUR YEARS, people! Is this reasonable? Yes, I know it's an antique in terms of technology, but shouldn't I be able to expect at least half a decade from an appliance? A toaster lives about 20 years if you clean the crumb tray now and then. My Honda Civic is still running around the neighborhood and it's twenty years old this year. Why should my laptop flop and die at four measley years?

Anyhow, no photos till I can - omygawd. All the stuff saved on the laptop. All my pictures! Ohh, I'd better bake up a batch of brownies to bribe the nice Geeks. On CSI they retrieve stuff from computers that have been through fires. Surely they can retrieve my photos.

I can't do a thing about this till Tuesday. I am putting it out of my mind. firmly. At least all the writing, well, most of the writing, Well, a lot of the writing is saved on CDs. (Note to self: finish that job now!!)

So anyhow, I'm doing a mem from Norma. Got to page 165 (I think) of the book you are reading and type the fifth line on the page. I'm going to type the wole sentence. The book is, The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. "Each weed-free strip is as smooth and flat as a tabletop, leveled with a laser so that the custom-built harvester can snip each leaf at precisely the same point."

This is so unlike me, to be reading a thought-provoking, non-fiction book. Usually I'm hip-deep in fantasy or a mystery or a good hysterical romance. (Ummm, historical romance I meant to say. ) Why this heavy, serious change of pace? I dunno. It was reccommended and I gave it a try. It's well written, but it tells me lots of stuff I don't want to know about most of the food I like to eat. I intend to follow it with the latest Dick Francis novel, written in collaboration with his son.

Yesterday, DH and I stopped at an estate sale where I bought two china teacups and a book. Simple Sweaters the Straight Line Way by Farm Craft Press. Published in 1981. It's a sweater recipe book, and pretty nifty. $2. DH bought a couple books for a retired sailor we know. Published in 1914 they are: An Illustrated Glossary of Nautical Terms; and Essential Knowledge for the Merchant Marine.

And today I got our pumpkins carved. Darn, I wish I could show you the pictures. Looks like we'll have good weather this year. Maybe I need to buy more candy . . .

Mystery batt

Great title for Halloween season, isn't it? This is what I'm spinning right now. There's some green sparkly stuff, and pinky / plummy wool of some kind, and some light colored soft stuff . . . See, Fantasy Fibers cards several batches of fibers before they clean the carding drums. Then they peel the mixed fiber remainders out of the teeth, bag 'em up, and sell them inexpensively to people like me who don't care about repeatable skeins or a sweater's worth of perfect yarn.

And here is is bobin of singles with a dime for scale. I think it's going to make pretty yarn. Still thinking about adding seed beads. That yarn could make some cool hats. Maybe a hat and scarf set if it's soft enough. Knit it loose and felt it for a bag - vest - jacket? Let's see how much yarn I wind up with. There are two more batts after this one.

The sun and wind and dry air are just exhilerating! I want to yell into the wind and roll in the dry leaves. Dry leaves! Man, dry leaves are awesome!! They crunch and crackle under foot and fly around like confetti when you kick them. I'm about ready to fall down on the lawn and make leaf angels. Squeeee! If autumn were like this more often, I would cease to dread it.

Did you see that moon last night?

So at five AM, as usual on a weekday, I rolled out of bed, scuffed on my slippers, belted my bathrobe, and toddled out into the dark to grab the morning paper. But doggone it, there were shadows where there shouldn't have been! I turned around and looked to the west and there was a full moon looking bigger than my head and about as bright as a street light. In fact, the street light was throwing shadows one way, and the moon was throwing shadows the other, and it was pretty surreal out there, let me tell you! I was mentally prepared to stand out and enjoy it for quqite a while, but the frost got up my kilt far too fast, and I beat feet for a hot cup of tea and a bowl of oat groats.

By 8AM, the moon had set, the sun had risen, and the maples across the street were incandescent!!









I don't know what it was today, but I finally managed to get my rear in gear and start sending out query letters about my Western romance again. I have been so disheartened about the process, but as DH says, if you don't play, you can't win. Somehow today, I got the will to play again. After writing up my three querries, and packaging them up with self-addressed stamped envelopes for replies, I walked them down to the mailbox, then continued on to the local convenience store to buy a lottery ticket. If you don't play, you can't win.


So, after getting a glorious two mile walk in the sun and the wind, I drove down to the bank, made a deposit, and stopped at the local St. Vincent De Paul thrift store. I've been looking for things to wear to the jails. I found a versatile grey tweed jacket for $3.50. Hey, I may already be a winner!

Yes, I did make a wish when I caught sight of the moon over my left shoulder. I wished I could be the best possible wife for DH. He deserves the best, and it damn well better be me!!

And then, to reward myself for being so good, I got out the spinning wheel. Pictures tomorrow, I hope. Nothing magnificent, just a Fantasy Fiber mystery batt with green sparkly stuff and lots of plum and purple wool. Maybe some white angora, too. I love mystery batts. Considering stringing some silver and pink beads and plying them in. What would I knit with randomly beaded yarn?

A little seasonal color

If there's nothing actually going on, I can always blog about the weather or the scenery. Having blog buddies in other hemisphere (Hi Janette, Denise, Kate and Helen!)reminds me things which are commonplace for me may well be strange and exotic to someone else. Thus I am sharing shots of - Indian corn, dried, and available in the local Safeway, intended almost certainly just for decoration, I wonder if you even COULD eat it?



Dahlias, hardy, bright autumnal perennials. If I had more sun in our yard, I would grow a buncha dahlias! These live in a neighbor's yard.

I would like a party dress this color. Wonder if I could still pull it off? (No, I am not discussing geriatric strip tease. Hmm - now I wonder if anyone has ever tried strip teas? Would that be tea in strps instead of in bags? Or maybe high tea with cakes and finger sandwiches and eccdyists?)

Grey and yellow make an elegant, seasonless colorway. Sweater inspiration?

Lucia once asked me if there was anything I couldn't just wing it on. The answer, in great big letters is, "LACE." Cables and structure and colorways make sense to me, intuitively. But lace - uh uh! I can do feather and fan, having memorized the pattern, but I could no more create a lace pattern than I could bring myself to rip out a sweater that turns out to be too small for my mature figure.

I keep trying to design for the girl I used to be. Wonder how you get over that? Rationally, I know I'm no longer lanky, but when I visualize sweaters on me, the me I visualize is still bone thin. (I was 5'11" and 115 lbs at 15. I got up to 130 in my 20s. Then added fifteen pounds per decade . . .) And I'm still rosy-cheeked and chestnut-haired in my imagination. The inner me got set about age 25 and just hasn't updated. How old is your inner self? And how do you go about choosing sweaters that fit and flatter?

The colors on the diagonal vest worked out wonderfully. I am not modeling it because it does NOT fit and flatter. OK, it sort of fits. It's a tabbard, so what's not to fit? But it doesn't exactly flatter. The wool and nylon tape was lovely to work with (Cameo) and the diagonal knit couldn't be easier. (CO 1. Inc in first stitch every row till it's wide enough along one edge, then decrease first stitch every row till it's all gone. Repeat for the second half.) Sew two corners together to make shoulders. Sew about two inches together on either side to make generous armholes. Tah Dah! Finish the edges if you have enough yarn. I didn't. The weight of this yarn has pulled the work into a rectangle. This is good. Other yarn, knit more tightly might make fabric firm enough to hold square. This is also good. This vest is a colorful thermal layer, and I will be wearing it under jackets this winter. But it just doesn't look as foxy as I had imagined.

Oh, the pattern? Colors A, B, and C. Seed stitch. Work one row of each color. The next color will be waiting for you at the end of the row. The seed stitch blends the colors in. It makes nice scarves, too.

Crazy about pumpkins?

Was it Jejune who remarked that Americans are crazy about pumpkins? Dear Heart, pumpkins are but the tip of the iceberg. Americans are crazy about Halloween. Every child MUST have a costume and go trick-or-treating. Even teenagers, who ought to be old enough not to want to, cling to this tradition and wander the neighborhood in creatively costumed packs. (In our safe little suburb, anyhow. I know many sections of the city where it's not safe to go out at all. Parents take the tykes to the mall to trick-or-treat the merchants and play in their costumes.) Adults often go to work in costume. I know I do every chance I get. The year I showed up as a chocolate mousse was a trying one for my boss because I still had knock-out legs, and I was wearing a brown leotard and tights with festoons af white net ruffles to portray whipped cream. And I had moose horns. This year I may wear a black dress and go as that 1930s movie star because I look like Helen Black.


Americans spent more on Halloween decorations than on Christmas decorations last year. People buy decor and knick-nacks for the home, and go whole hog on their front yards. Yesterday was astoundingly warm and sunny, so I took a quick stroll around. In a five square block area I found: This endearing seasonal vignette,







This inflatable extravaganza, including the green goblin mouth to walk through on the way to the treats,










and a blow-up "snow" globe that lights up to show the little white bats swirling madly around inside whenever the pump is turned on.




And then there are the do-it-yourself over-achievers who go for the ghastly graveyard effect. The tombstones are styrofoam and paint. Quite effectively spooky looking.
If you enlarge the photos, you can read some of the entertaining "names" on some of the stones.

And here you can sort of see the ghost floating inside the window.



This was my favorite tombstone. "Why is the rest of the landing party wearing a different colored shirt?"



As I said, it was a glorious day. The local maple trees are doing their best to celebrate.




I don't know what kind of maples these are. Big leaf maybe?


Oh, and here's the new haircut after a walk. I no longer look like a sheepdog. Now I look more like a cross between a bloodhound and an albino schnauzer. Ah for the highly pigmented days when I looked like an Irish setter!

knitters know how to party!

I call them the Portland Purls - the wise, wonderful, funny knitters (and embroiderers) who are kind enough to gather at my house for conviviality. This month, it took a joint effort to pull the party off. I provided the house (relatively cleaner than it usually is, though the board of health might still find cause for complaint.) I set out table cloth and china. I even invented a napkin fold for the occasion.


Because I had never done it before, I seeded a couple of pomegranates. You immerse the critter in a bowl of cold water and break it apart between your hands, pushing the seeds loose. The seeds (arils)sink, the membranes float. Throw away the water, serve the arils. Yum! Also red bartlet pears and green grapes, and curried chicken salad sandwiches.

TW co-hosted. She baked a bounty for us!! Scones, brownies, pumpkin bread and world-class biscotti. Looks like an earthly garden of gustatory delights, doesn't it? It WAS!!



Eight of us gathered, feasted, knitted, and had a go-lorius time! Usually it runs from 10 till 12, but we kept nattering till past 1 because it was just so fun. With 8 people, it's small enough that one person can talk and everyone else can listen, or, you can break into cluster chats of two or three and no one need feel left out. Life is good, and friends make it better! And when everyone had left and I was taking out the crusts to throw to the crows, I found a four leaf clover. Life is very good indeed.

2 self portraits and shots downtown

My curly locks really do need a trim. I can't stand hair in my eyes, and it's getting right down there. Naturally curly hair presents a problem to most hairdressers, but young Jon goes into a creative zone when I settle into his chair, speaks not at all, and sculpts my poodle-ish mop into a chic coffiure. He makes me look expensive without inquiring too deeply into what I want because what I want is to look pretty but I don't know how to get there.




Of course, I had to dress for the weather. I love my rain boots!! People see me coming and smile!!

The salon is just down the street from this urban flower shop - too cozy and personal to be a "florist" and they always dress their frontage so happily.





This is a shot from beside the North Park Blocks. Portland is rife with parks. Of course, the parks are rife with hookers and pushers, punks, drunks,and junkies, winos, beeros, hoboes and common hos, but these folks are willling to share with local urbanites as well. Ten minutes before recess, the day-care center on the corner of this park sends a staff person out with rubber gloves and a trash bag to pick up used needles, condoms and other oddities, then the kids are led in a proper crocodile across the street to play on the swings and slides and to scamper under the trees. Apartment dwellers clutching plastic bags, walk their dogs and are careful to pick up after them lest some dirty homeless bag lady deride them for uncivilized behavior.

I wanted to take photos of some of the things that make me happy, but they don't photograph well. The Pearl Bakery is a small, non-descript, storefront without even much of a sign. You can't photograph the fragrance of baking, or the high-ceilinged serenity of their seating area, or the delicate flake of a tender croissant as you sink your teeth into its buttery goodness.

And Powell's Books. The legendary Powell's bookstore. The main building is a three-story, square block of all the words in the English-speaking world! Drift at will through the science fiction shelves, through the multiple shelves of knitting books, through the mystery and romance and history. There is a seperate store for technical books, and another one for cookbooks. They carry new and used and if you can't find it there, they will order it for you. But, poor deluded muggles that they are, they never expect Stephanie Pearl McPhee to draw so damn many knitters!! I have spent entire days in Powell's (They have a coffee shop of course.) There are some people who pretty much live there. They know all the many clerks by name, and have their own reading corners staked out in the quiet alcoves.

But how can you photograph the glory of the largest new and used bookstore West of the Missippi? It's BOOKS! All the thoughts and worlds and emotions you can imagine, all squeezed down onto paper and ready for you to enjoy. Instant escape - just open and go. Hard to get that into the digital camera.

Another reason I am so fond of young Jon is that he gives a fabulous scalp massage. He was working away and I told him, "I'm resting my eyes on the pattern of open beams and pipes and shadow and light on the ceiling, I'm loving the fragrance of the shampoo, the music in the background is perfect and you are hitting alllll the right points on my skull. All I need is a bit of excellent chocolate on my tongue and I will have covered every one of the senses in bliss. I would just transcend and you'd be left with a pile of empty clothes and a pair of hot pink boots. And what would you tell the police?" He started to laugh and laugh and laugh. Finally he gasped, "My gosh you have a vivid imagination. I can see I've gotta read your books!"

"Well of course. Everyone should."

blogger is back! Good blogger!!

Here are the photos from our pumpkin hunt on the last dry day of the year (Unless we get one of those frigid east winds off the high desert in December. Then everything is freeze-dried for two or three days before the freezing rain hits.)








The guy who owns this pumpkin patch also has a little hobby. He likes toy trains. Well, scale model trains. This runs all over his property. The pumpkin head on the engine is a seasonal addition.

We didn't take the train, but if we had, we would have been closer to the guys loading pumpkins into the wagon. The Sunday sky is foggy and grey, but NOT rainy!

And here are the guys unloading the wagon. I tried to get a shot of the pumpkins in mid-toss but my reactions just aren't quick enough. They blithely fling the gourds from hand to hand to hand to pile. Bet these fellows have muscles like strings of bowlingballs.








Here is DH with our selection. Isn't this a classic sort of photo?
And here are the Tuesday shoes! These are my duck-foot shoes. Wide at the toe are they. You will notice that most of my practical shoes have straps or ties at the ankle. That's because I have a narrow heel that pops right out of most shoes unless buckled in. So much for Tuesdays shoes.

Today, Thursday, I am prepping the house for Saturday's knitting group, and getting my hair cut. Choosing tablecloth and dishes and teacups, and shopping for fruit. TW is doing the baking. She is a master baker and my mouth waters in anticipation. Her biscotti are world class! She will bring pumpkin bread and scones as well and maybe brownies. And she makes wonderful coffee. I make a dark brown liquid that is almost, but not quite, totally unlike coffee.

The haircut will be downtown, and I love going downtown, so I may be a bit late getting home. I warned DH. If blogger co-operates, photos tomorrow.

Shoesday is bluesday 'cuz blogger is bad.

I've been fighting with Blogger for two days now, and it still won't post pictures so poop on it! Friday, Ben kitty went to the vet to get - ah - tutored. His voice was cracking on the drive to the vet, so we got to him just in the nick of time. (NICK of time - get it?) We have had other cats who were neutered too late an developed nasty habits, so we are devoutly hoping that the slight but inerradicable smell will not give him ideas. Is inerradicable a word? We can not completely erradicate the essential esters from the floorboards. Reminds me of the frenchman practicing his english. He said, "My wife can not have children. She is impregnable." No photos of our no longer ballbearing mousetrap, but then you didn't want any, did you?

Sunday, DH took me out into farm country to get our pumpkins. I got lots and lots of nice photos. Blogger won't let me share them. Bad Blogger! Another time perhaps.

And shoes for shoesday. They are nice, comfy, practical ,black, old hippie lady shoes. Oddly enough, I seem to have a number of comfortable, practical, black shoes. That gives me more cash for wild and happy scarves.

Monday was the whole day at the jail. In the hallway on the way to the classroom, I passed a young man with a black eye swollen tight closed, and colored like a plum . Never have I seen such a spectacular black eye as this young man was sporting!

One of my spanish-speaking students had a question for me, and the teacher, who usually translates, wasn't available, so I asked some of the other guys to help. Turns out,as an illegal immigrant, he was being returned to Mexico the next day and wondered if he should bother to take the test. "You may as well," I said. "It's paid for, you're here, I'm here to give it to you, and it's not like you had anything else to do right now." The english speaking guys roared. One of the bi-lingual guys translated, and the spanish-speaking guys roared. Evidently, the question, "Did you have some where else to be right now?" is a standing joke in jail.

And today is doing its best to prove that October is the wettest month of the year. The green leaves cling to the trees with the tenacity of octegenarian widows, and the red and yellow leaves get beaten down and washed into the gutters. I have heard that in other states, you can rake the leaves into big dry fluffy piles and play in them. Around here, you rake the leaves into heavy, soggy mats which you then scrape into the yard debris barrels. Then the garbage company takes it to the composting plant which processes the leaves into compost and sells them back to you at $25 a cubic yard next spring when you want to lighten the heavy clay soil in your garden. Yes, it would be cheaper to do your own composting, but there IS a bit of an art to it and you need to tend your compost almost as much as you must tend your tomatoes. I'd rather go to the farmer's market and pay someone else for the labor and skill required to produce fresh local veggies. Anyhow, with my black thumb, I could work like a coolie and still not get a thing fit to eat. No, if you want a thing done right, get a professional to do it.

saturday sky, knitting, and a spider

See, there between the branches! We're having a sunny Saturday. Leaves are just beginning to turn on the walnut tree in the backyard, and the apple tree continues to pose with serene assymetry.
As for the next knitting project, I have thorown myself at some tape yarn (Cameo 80%wool, 20% nylon) because I want a cozy vest for the winter. (I also want a pink and purple wool tweed blazer for less than $40. How's it feel to want and not have, Roxie?) I have four balls of dark pink and green, and two balls of light pink. Rahter than futz with stripes, I am blending them by knitting seed stitch. Just work a row from each of three balls. When you get to the end of a row, pick up the yarn that is waiting there for you, and seedstitch back. It's magic with two or three harmonious colors.

As for pattern, I don't know how far this yarn will take me, so I'm doing two diagonal squares and joining them at sides and shoulders. Lots of guesstimating and winging it, but that's what I love.

Now, if you are arachnaphobic, run away! We have this big old garden spider in the back yard, and I think she is really cool. I wanted pictures of the pretty designs on her back and belly. The pictures are a bit blurry because there was just enough air movement to make the web tremble.

Isn't she lovely? (Any spiders still around this late in the year are usually females.) Wonder if I could make a spider-back sweater?

The MIL sweater and nifty sh*t

Last night as I was lolling in the bathtub, Pepper trotted in, dragging the camera cable with immense pride, bragging, "Look what I killed, Mom! I killed a snake." Ben instantly pounced, proclaiming, "I'm killing it too!" So I lurched out of the tub, and pink, wet and naked, pursued kitties through the house till I had rescued the cable. Oh, ghu, it was not a pretty sight! The cable was fine, but I am over fifty and over weight and gravity has not been kind . . . Hmm too much information there. Be that as it may, DH who, as a war vet has seen worse, merely raised his eyebrows at me, took custody of the cable when I had rescued it, and went back to his book as I went back to my bath. And today, I can post new pictures! The Mother-in-law's chocolate sweater is all done. V-neck, nifty square brassy buttons, vertical ribs to visually elongate. I just hope it fits.
(The picture in the background is of one-time mayor of Portland, Bud Clark. The caption is, "Expose yourself to Art." I loved Bud! He never took it too seriously.)

I have been hitting sales. Joann's had a row of dollar bins, and I got all sorts of trinkets for Christmas pressies and stocking stuffers. And then I stopped at Office Max and found these nifty-coolio vinyl binder pages with pockets. There's an 8 1/2 X 11 pocket that would hold a pattern. And a 4 X 11 pocket that would hold knitting needles. And a little 2 X 3 pocket for stitch markers, thread cutter, whatever else is needful. What a marvelous traveling knitter's accesory! Since school has started, they are half-price now. I got three of them in blue, pink and green for $1.20 Squeee! Sort out the different projects by color. (Socks in the blue one, scarf in the pink, . . .) Slide the pockets into your tote or backpack or laptop case, and you are good to go! Isn't that a nifty bit of sh*t?

Why am I thinking about traveling knitting? Well, did I mention that DH and I are taking a Carribbean cruise in December? (All you thieves and vandals, don't get your hopes up. We have a house-sitter.) Already I am planning my wardrobe. I take pride in traveling light, so am doing the mental mix and match and making lists to cover the possibilities. Except, ...well,... I am SUCH a sucker for dressy, dressy clothes. Gotta pack two formals. Yes, I know no one will notice if I wear the same thing twice. I'm fifty eight for crysakes, and no one but DH will even see me. (Middle-aged women become invisible.) But if I have two opportunities to dress to the hilt, I do not intend to waste one of them. I'll wear the same shoes, but that's as far as I'm willing to go. It may even be the same two formals I wore on the last cruise, but I don't care. They make me feel pretty! Pretty! Pretty! HMM - I want more opportunities to wear formals. Wonder if I can talk DH into romantic dress-up dinners at home?

cable conniptions

Ah, would that I were talking about Aran cables. No. The conniptions arise from the fact that I can't use my laptop at my desk because my desk is in a dead spot. I talked to the ATT people and we looked at a map, and That little corner of the house falls right outside the ranges of three different repeater towers. As long as the air card is within the range of a tower, no problem. The solution? Get a long USB cable and use it to put the aircard anywhere I like in the house. Next step, buy a USB cable.

And speaking of electrical cables, I would love to show you the pictures of the MIL sweater now that it is all finished and buttoned and all, but my able domestic assistants (AKA the kitties) have hidden the cable that pulls photos out of the camera and ties them onto the computer. I have two photos of a quickie hat I finished on the evening that the sweater was done, but still lacking buttons. The hat is shaped with short rows and knitted of bulky mystery yarn on size 11 needles. Sooooo fast!





So who hid the camera cable? Does one of these faces look especially guilty to you?

Pressies, knitting, and the mandatory kitties

Jejune ( jejunesplace.blogspot.com ) is a gifted, brilliant woman who paints the most astounding knitting themed watercolors. She had a contest with a random draw and I was just random enough to win! Here is my prize,(Picture deleted because I wanted to show the pretty stamps on the envelope and foolishly showed my home address as well. DUH! Thanks Monica!) all the way from Australia! Cadbury chocolates in Furry Friends bars, Minties, a Caramel Koala bar, and four of her lovely greeting cards. Check out the knitting art shop on her blog. You, too can own some of these splendid cards. Thank you, Jejune! And please give Lulu a kiss for me. (People, check her blog today and see the awesome picture she is finishing!)


And I also got my October yarn from ZenYarnGarden 's Artwalk sock club. The colorway is inspired by Picasso's Three Dancers. It's merino and secell. Oooohh, yummy!


Coincidentally, I finished a scarf knit in the first colorway from the club - Salvador Dali's Hallucinogenic Torreador. It's sock weight yarn, merino and bamboo, knit in seed stitch on size 3 needles. Light, and sooo soft!




And because everything is better with a kitty, here are the kids having a nap in the window.

Shoesday two

These are the shoes I wear to work in the jails. They are flat, practical, staid, and oh so comfortable! They look rather like dress shoes for a nun, don't they? But don't let that sweet MaryJane strap fool you. These shoes have hard, heavy soles which makes them adequate tools of self-defense. DH feels more comfortable about me getting locked in with felons if I'm wearing a concealed weapon. I love my practical shoes!


How's this for a touch of sunrise? This is one of those sunrises that permeats the very air and tints the whole sky. It's like a teabag steeping color in swirls and drifts and currents of beauty. This shot is taken looking directly south. Looking east, the gold is so intense that it washes out the pictures. I stood outside, soaking it into my eyes till I was shivering in my slippers. I do love mornings!!

Tomorrow, knitting content. I am almost finished with the Hallucinogenic Torreador scarf, and the MIL sweater needs only buttons and a few ends tidied away.