And then the skein from Imagiknit arrived, Coco in Rios, and it too was perfect, depending on whether I wanted a dark morph moose or lighter.

So I googled moose pictures. They come in all black, dark brown, dark legs, lighter lower legs, dark antlers, medium antlers. That’s what I thought.

So basically I could take my two skeins and give it a lighter belly and lower legs and antlers. Works for me. We’ll see when I get there, though; after laying the work down on two long circular needles to see what I’ve got so far as a non-scrunched-up whole, I’m doing another round of pines first.

Knitting charts are emphatically not my strong point, but I’d found a moose (Ravelry link) that actually looked like a moose and I went to start adding it in today.

And stopped halfway across the row, feeling silly.

It was backwards. I knew that.

This is where being married to a computer scientist comes in handy so I thought I’d pass this on.

Go to your pdf. Go to pdfux.com and scroll down to find what you want your pdf to do. There it is: flip. Click that, drag your pdf where they say, and there you go.

We had eaten the last peach, and I needed a skein of brown that was not the ones that I had.

It would be a fast dash into the LYS; you don’t leave Andy’s ripe fruit in a hot car any longer than you have to.

Which is how I stopped by Fillory Yarn on the way home.

I’d been told months ago that there was now a Thursday afternoon knitting group there; I hadn’t been thinking about it at all but yes there was. I had wondered from time to time if any of my old group had started coming again post-covid, but I didn’t recognize a single face.

One woman at the table said, Oh sorry, and leaned over to move her purse so I could stoop down to check out the Rios in browns near floor level.

I picked up two slightly different colorways from two different bins and, looking up at her, asked, Which one would you pick for a moose? I need a moose in my landscape.

She wasn’t expecting that and laughed a little.

I told her about the moose in Alaska that had stood at the hood of our car and looked in at us inquisitively like, What ARE you?!

She told me about a moose she’d seen and how cool it was. She was quite definite: That one.

I’d actually been leaning towards the other–but as I mentally pictured it with Cian I knew she was right and was glad I had asked.

Wait, though. I found a third skein in its bin that had less variation to it. Yes! And I wouldn’t have found it if she hadn’t been so sure, helping me see what I needed to see. I owe her one, whoever she is.

A little bit of conversation and then I had to run rescue my peaches and nectarines and Green Gage plums from the heat. But I came away feeling like, it’s been four and a half years since I had an in-person knitting group. I think I’ve finally found it.

So now I just have to knit that moose before next Thursday so she can see what she helped make happen.

I got more than an inch done on the new afghan while my daughter was working from home, but the picture is stalled in the ether somewhere. Which just means that when I do show you any progress there will be a little more of it.

Man, it feels good to see something new coming to be.

Seed stitch is so  s l o w. Finally got past it. And we’re off!

Nope. Added a few more–259 stitches, because a couple extra inches in width is always a good thing, right? It was a tired day but at least I got three rows into the thing.

Went to Cottage Yarns yesterday. Wound some stash yarn today. Considered patterns again. Looked at some old projects to give myself a pep talk. Counted stitches on the ocean afghan that was my big pandemic project, since it’ll be the same yarn. Considered the sketch I’d sketched and what else it should have had in it.

The hardest part is getting the needles started when you know that by the time it’s all done you’ll have learned what you needed to know before you started it to make it what it could be. But I don’t yet.

So all I can do is take the yarn and let it run wherever it wants to go.

Haven’t found the one I was looking for yet, where Division 1 (that would include Stanford) men tried to mimic Simone Biles–but this is better. Fred Richards, a fellow Olympian: the two of them trying to mimic each other’s moves and clearly having the time of their lives.

You wanted to see the colorway. The tag in the bag says London Sky, but it could be the wrong one? It’s mainly on the brown side of purple, but that could be my cataracts talking.

Knitting intentions aside, it turned out to be a day for running around getting things done. Including a two-hour  trip to Andy’s.

Searching for Lorings, the great peaches of my childhood, is how I discovered Andy Mariani and his orchard I don’t know how many years ago now and it was a treat to bring some home. My family used to drive out to an orchard in West Virginia well after the peaches had been harvested: all the tiniest hardest rocks of fruit left behind would, by the time the farmer called Dad, have had the entire resources of the trees to themselves and by the time we six kids climbed the trees to get to them they were huge. How often do you get to eat a 24 oz peach that streams juices through your hands as you do? And that taste that good?

I did not believe there could be a better peach. Andy gently let me know in those initial emails way back when that, in fact, there is. And proved it when I tasted his Kit Connells and Baby Crawfords.

They’re not on yet and Lorings and happy memories would definitely do for today.

On a side note, I don’t know if you can buy a tree of it yet, but if you ever want the perfect nectarine, the Raspberry Red variety that Andy developed is the best I have ever tasted.

A new-to-me colorway. A doctor appointment a dozen miles up the freeway at rush hour, so best leave quite early because every five minutes later is ten more minutes spent on the road, right?

And that is how I fell in love with knitting all over again today.

They came. They took me to the other side of the fence. They saw. I saw. They said Why isn’t there a marked line where the fence should actually be? Measuring from stakes is not how it’s done.

And so we continue.

Meantime, in proof that yellow visually dominates any colorway it touches, this is what I ordered awhile back. Merino/silk/cashmere.

And this vivid little thing for I have no idea who is what it’s turning into. I had to go look for the original picture because it’s so, um, different.

Thumper’s Admonition says someone out there will love it. Intuition says this was the time when it was supposed to come to be so keep going, but that’s all I know so far.

Hottest day in the heat wave, the Saturday after the Fourth of July, thirty-five degrees cooler at the beach than inland, where are you gonna go. Right?

Except it happened to be the day of a family get-together with a cousin who actually lives near the beach. Otherwise we would never ever…

Much Waze and Googlemaps checking ensued.

Ken’s brother later exclaimed, Four hours forty-five minutes?! (For an 83 mile route.) You could walk it backwards!

Which made me laugh, and no we didn’t take that route, and it was a 6 pm event so we left late enough that most people who wanted to spend the day at the beach were already there (or trying to be) so the extra 45 minutes wasn’t too bad.

The dinner was outside, but at 7 and under the shade of a huge oak so I pulled up a chair.

Cousin-in-law Ken’s mom, who lives in Arizona, sat down next to me to catch up a bit. There are only so many weddings and baptisms and the like to get to do that.

That close to the ocean and in the thick fog and breeze it was getting cold. I’d grabbed a silk cowl on my way out the door with the fleeting thought of, since anyone can wear silk (well yes it matches my blouse?)

It matched her dress even better, and she was quite grateful for the rescue. It is amazing how much warmth something around your neck can add. (It’s the Fettucia tubular silk in that link in blue, bought at a half off sale, just so she doesn’t worry about that price tag if she sees this.)

When it was time to go I told her, When am I ever again going to have a chance to totally match your outfit? It’s for you. Loosely spun silk has a tendency to stretch over time, so it may, just so you know.

Richard wanted to go before the two hour trek home (reverse beach traffic ended up demonstrating that it was a thing) so we didn’t linger too long from there. But I’m so glad for those limited times that she and I have had.

And eight-year-old Caleb, who was who the day was about in the first place, was celebrated and loved by all.

If I knew who this was for I’d have had the motivation to finish it days ago, but I made some good progress today.

Yarn is spun under tension, and typically it is wound off into hanks, i.e. long donuts of wool and not the pull-fr0m-the-center balls of my childhood.

Hanking it I think means one less step for the mill to pay for but the main reason is, it’s a prettier way to show off the yarn and if it’s a multi-color you can see more of what you’re going to get.

But then it has to be wound into a ball.

Some shops will do it for you if they’re not busy right then, with a warning that that makes the purchase non-returnable.

Many knitters have swifts, ie umbrella-type thingummies for stretching the hank onto and having it twirl around while a ball is being wound, either by hand or by ball winder like the shops.

Then there are those silly purists who, even though they have a swift and a winder, think nothing beats the artistry of the perfectly hand wound ball even if it takes more time. (*cough* *cough* I don’t know ANYONE like THAT… Oh wait. I do.)

But a hank being wound without being held in tension can get snarled up, especially towards the end; I’ve been known to put two kitchen chairs back to back, drape the hanks over the both of them, and wind from there. I have also been known, if no one’s looking, to stand on one of those chairs while doing so so I don’t have to lean over so far, but don’t tell anyone, except that I’m sure the neighbors have done a what the heck? from their side of the window.

So. Tell me. How is it that having knit all these many many many years it never occurred to me before tonight that the perfect way and length for putting just enough tension to hold a hank of, say, Rios, while sitting comfortably no less–

–is to drape it from the middle of the leg to the underside of my toes while my left leg is crossing my right knee. Need to hold it a little more firmly? Stretch your foot a bit.

It was right there all along.

How did I never see this???

Lisa asked for more pictures. The house–note the window box with the extra line of purl stitches.

I originally had purl stitches across the very top of the house to continue the point at the top but didn’t like the effect and ended up dropping down eight rows to change those few.

Daisy stitch for the low hedges by the sides of the house, then the taller sunflowers (or you could call one of them a Narnia lamp.)

The whole thing was a doodle. Very soft and machine washable for the first-time mom, who will have a blanket for her baby that will be a one of a kind.

And then, while still feeling like moping that I didn’t have anything like that to work on, I surprised myself by finishing a cowl carry-around project. Hey. I do, I like that, too!

I immediately cast on a hat. Can’t let the momentum let up.