Diversions And Delusions (There Be Wool: Knitters Unite . . . And Colbert's Feet to Benefit)

It's officially summer. I'm officially ready for winter. So much so that I've begun my "winter knitting"--starting first with a beautiful cowl (the Honey cowl) in Kelly Green--for obvious reasons this color speaks to me. I love, love, love knitting this cowl. The textured pattern is both squishy and fluid--better yet--I can practically manage working it with my eyes closed. It's a simple and brilliant design. Who knew that a mere "wyif" and "p1"  combination could create such a wonderful little experience. It does. It has. 

Evenings I've been curled up in a chair sitting next to Dr. Thyme watching the entire two seasons of Downton Abbey with the honey cowl work in my lap. So happy. So content. We both loved DA. I've never considered myself a Masterpiece gal. Today, I would classify myself in "groupie" status. We are now working our way through another outstanding Masterpiece PBS/BBC production: Sherlock. Whoa. LOVE. IT. Who is that guy? He's perfect as Sherlock.  

One night DH asked, "Are you going to work on my Christmas sweater, too?" To which I replied, "Seriously?" Of course my selfish knitting takes priority over ALL well-intended knitted gifts. I felt a pang of guilt over the matter. But this quickly passed. 

And now, onto knitting. And some news of the very strange and absurd.

For those unaware, the art of knitting is under scrutiny. Big story. Big news. First a disclaimer. I am not an Olympic athlete. Nor do I pretend to be one when I knit. However, if you would like to spend a few minutes laughing yourself silly, might I direct you to the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard: Gawker covers this quite well. As does Mason-Dixon Knitting. At first when I read the Olympic Committee (yes, with capital letters, so you know this is for real) has taken umbrage with Ravelry and its many Ravelympic shenanigans (of the afghan, mitten, sock, hat, scarf, cardigan, and sweater sort)--I thought this was a very funny and clever joke.  What better way to get a knitter's attention than to create a scandal! I love a good scandal, don't you? Sadly, this is real. The OC apparently finds our knitting "denigrates" the Olympics. For those knitters who have the the gall to knit while watching the Olympic games and partake in such groups via Ravelry . . . be aware, be very aware. You are now colluding. And as such, may find yourself in . . . well, in "violation." Please someone tell me this is not really happening. Please. I want to know when the jig is up. In the off chance this whole thing is REAL, (and my fear is that the letter and all its lawyer speak are), I will humbly submit to finally learning to knit real socks. Not the kind that are knit with two different colors of yarn on one needle so I can tell the difference, but honest-to-goodness, wearable socks. For humans. For maybe even Stephen Colbert. But I think knitting some for my husband would have to come first (right after I finish the man-sweater), then socks for Colbert. **UPDATE: The Olympic Committee has since issued an apology. Twice. If THAT doesn't tell you something about the power of knitting folk, well, I don't know what does. I still think I'd like to knit a pair of wearable socks. 

On a completely unrelated venture. We have this little groundhog residing in the back yard. He's the most adorable little thing I have ever seen. I spotted him out back before he had spotted me (they are quite skittish) and quickly but ever-so-quietly ran back inside for my camera. I call him a badger. They can be destructive little critters. But cute beyond words just the same. And as you can see, he is on the "outside" of the veggie patch. 

Here is the latest veggie patch update. It's bone dry out there. I don't water everyday. I try to stick to the rule--an inch of water per week. I want to encourage deep roots on the plants vs. shallow. But the parched ground and lack of water here is stressing everything. I feel sorry for the trees. We had such a beautiful spring. And now. . . this. I have tomatoes on nearly all my tomato plants. No blight or foliage diseases have appeared. . . yet. I attribute this miracle to the fact that the rain we so desperately need has kept nasty airborne mold spores from attacking my plants. While I am very concerned over the lack of rain we've had here (especially given that most annoying of holidays is approaching)--I'm grateful to have such healthy and disease-free plants at this stage of the game. There be rabbits. . . big time. So it looks like, "No Beans For Me". I refuse to stress out over this. They've gotta eat--if I were a rabbit, I'd eat my garden, too.

Veggie patch number two. Corn is up. Kale is up. (I've been juicing in the afternoons: two kale leaves, three carrots, an apple, some dates, celery and grapes--it's a delicious pick-me-up.) Other parts of the patch are "dormant" for now. I ripped up my pea vines last weekend and used my fresh peas in a curry. They were so tasty. I plan to plant a fall crop of peas--when the weather cools. A pain in the neck to shell--all one hundred or so of them, but totally worth it in the end. So while this little garden strip appears to be somewhat "bare" and pretty stark looking--every good gardener knows--you leave spaces open for the "next" crops. Just not sure what exactly that will be yet. This was a garden I had all tomatoes in last year. I rotated the tomatoes to the new beds and gave this one a tomato "break". It works wonders for the soil.

I have to share my pasta endeavor. This weekend I made homemade pasta and TRIED my hand at shaping tortellini. This is the result. Okay, so I won't be heading to Italy any time soon. But still. These were quite good. Here's what I did: I poured a cup of Bob's Red Mill Semolina flour on the kitchen counter, added 1/3 cup of water and a tablespoon of EVOO, and a pinch of salt, then dove in with my hands. No bowls. No food processor. So easy. After the dough came together into a nice little round ball (I sprinkled a bit of water over it as I kneaded the dough)--after all the stickiness subsided, I set the dough in an oiled bowl to rest for and hour, then got my pasta roller out and had a blast. The pasta was perfect. We LOVED it! I am getting quite good at homemade pasta if I don't say so myself. 

And one last thing, because I really have been busy and never really know how or when to "edit" myself on my posts (I guess if you're a regular "visitor", you've figured that out by now). 

My reading diversions are many. My Kindle seems to be attracting more and more books--our library just began offering e-book lending. More for my Kindle! I am nearly finished reading, "A Widow's Story" by Joyce Carol Oates. Loved this book. Loved. It. JCO, as she refers to herself, is by far one of my favorite authors. Ever. I've read nearly all her books. Blonde and The Falls--two of my most favorite books ever. This book, however, is a memoir about the sudden loss of her husband, Ray, and the ensuing days, weeks and months after dealing with the trauma of the event, coping with the grief, the solitude and the onslaught of well-intended acts of support with which she must contend. While JCO does share some darker moments of surviving after the loss of her husband--of navigating the friends, flowers (which will perhaps give you pause the next time you decide to send "flowers" to someone grieving), and many-sleepless nights, she also brilliantly and gracefully lets us into her soul. I felt privileged to read this and better for having done so. 

And one other book I am heading into next right after the JCO memoir is a newbie: Bowling Avenue by Ann Shayne. You might know her from the Mason-Dixon Knitting blog. Bowling Avenue is Ann's new book. I have been reading Kay and Ann's blog for a l-o-n-g time. I love their blog. They've inspired many-a-knittin'-project in this house. As a fan of their blog, I thought it perfectly sensible I'd love Ann's new book. I read the first chapter as a sample and right away was hooked. If you go to Ann's page, you'll find a link there. I am always happy to help a knitting sister out. And, better yet, a writer-knitter sister. 

Meanwhile, let the sock lessons begin. Any tips from fellow knitters--experts in all things socks--I'd totally welcome.