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I’m working on the Aeolian shawl.
It was actually part of the motivation to get through my last term, that when I was done I would use all that free brain space to knit lace. I’m on row 15 of the edge chart – only 30 rows left. (I think I’m in those V-shapes of openwork.) And each row takes about 20 minutes now.
So the last worked row was K5, (YO, SSK) x 3, K7, (K2T, YO) x 3. This last row was K7, (YO, SSK) x3, K5, (KST, YO) x 3. To make it harder, I think of those SSK’s as being “knit two together,” and open a subfile in my brain to decide which way it’s supposed to slant. Daughter was talking about XBOX 360 and some game that came out in 2001. I made it half-way before I decided it wasn’t going to happen.
I’ll finish the row today, once I get up from my nap.
I finished these socks today – just now, in fact, and ran out to take pictures.
And while I was out there, I had a visitor;
Black-bottomed bumble bee.
I haven’t been out standing looking at my sunflowers this summer, so I haven’t seen many bees, so I am excited.
All these photos look dark to me; am I right?
(Again. As always. And so on.)
This was written in 2004;
Who, two decades ago, could have imagined a world in which the Soviet Union had vanished and the Internet had arrived? Who then dreamed that the political prisoner Nelson Mandela would become president of a transformed South Africa? Who foresaw the resurgence of the indigenous world of which the Zapatista uprising in southern Mexico is only the most visible face? Who, four decades ago, could have conceived of the changed status of all who are nonwhite, nonmale, or nonstraight, the wide-open conversations about power, nature, economics, and ecologies?
Introduction to “Hope In The Dark” by Rebecca Solnit. Funny how just a few words do so much. Later;
“[B]ecause hope is an ax you break down doors with in an emergency…”
What about that for a tattoo? “Hope is an ax.”
Big huge plant at Coco’s, in Washburn.
This here? Is a victory lap.
We moved from Minneapolis to the farm 20 years ago. The place was a dump. One of the windows in the living room had been covered over with cheap siding on the outside, and filled in (poorly) with mirrored tiles. I could not bear the sight of it, and made this quilt top to hang over it. It’s all cheap fabric, and barely enough to make the seams in places. But it was so much better than what it covered.
Aaaand. Things got worse, as they tend to when things begin poorly. I moved out and on, dragging Daughter with me. A lot of packing was done by an angry drunken person, and I was glad to get as much of my stuff as I did. So I was incredible happy when I found the quilt top shoved in a box with some loose papers and I don’t know what all.
Aaaand. Things weren’t that great then, either, but eventually things started going better, and now that I’m on a fairly even keel, I decided to actually make it into a quilt. I won’t show you the back, because as in all things, I have to make mistakes before I can do it right. All the mistakes. But it’s so much fun to get into bed under a blankie I made myself.
It’s like I kept a promise or something.
I’m in a place. Again. Tuesday seems to be where the place lives. Maybe I should make sure I sleep through Tuesdays from now on.
I’m almost done with a sock. Except that it is about a half-inch too short, which means I have to rip out the last inch of sock back to where I started the decreasing.
I would switch to toe-up, but I probably would muck that up too.
Which is a Tuesday thing to say.
I’m also restless, and starting to start new projects.
Have a flower.
This is one thing (of many, actually) that went right today.
(Okay, technical stuff. Close focus and shallow depth of field equals a lot of strange focusing, what with the weaving back and forth I apparently do. The peony is actually a dark wine color, but the flash burnt it out to the bright pink, and dropped the background to black. Fair warning, I will use this combination more in the future. Also, I love the little peep of yellow peeking out.)