ripping it out and starting over

I used my new-found soup knowledge the other day, and turned some almost-wilting greens into a soup base. Then I (turned on the air conditioner) added beef broth and frozen corn, and threw in cheese tortellini and cut-up meatballs. A meal in itself.

I took Dolly out the other day; we sat quietly listening to podcasts -

a good listener

and I knitted my scarf. It takes me so long to complete anything, but I was doing very well and was ALMOST at the end, when

I didn't have enough yarn. Another yard would have done it. I couldn't stand it - we came inside and I put it away for a day.

The pattern is called Veron, and it seems very clever to me - you are supposed to weigh the yarn at the beginning, and when you reach the point where you've got twenty percent of it left you start doing short rows while slowly decreasing until you're done. When I got to that awful point of no more yarn, I instantly realized that twenty grams was more than twenty percent of 99 grams. If I'd begun the short rows at 21 grams that would have been just right. Why did that only become clear to me in hindsight?

Anyway, a day or two later found us outdoors again. I was right to let it alone for a while - I had no trouble ripping it out to the twenty one gram point.

rewinding

I'm almost done again. But if I have to undo it again, I will! (I avoid the term "frogging" - it sounds very rude)


I picked up "The Scent of Water" by Elizabeth Goudge. Her books always are magical, but it took me a little while to get into this one. Now I'm all in.

She opened her window in the morning and saw a spider's web sparkling with light and was aware of miracle. Sitting in the conservatory with her sewing she knew suddenly that the sun was out behind the vine leaves and that she was enclosed within green-gold light as in a seashell. She dropped her sewing in her lap and was motionless for an hour while the light lay on her eyelids and her gratitude knew no bounds.