We woke in the night, as hoped, and turned on the presidential debate. It acted, at least on me, fully as efficiently as “Moby Dick” on Mary Lou -- (see her comment here on Tuesday’s post, as well as the blog entry to which I link) – with the result that I heard very little. Commentators are unanimous this morning that Romney did much better than Obama.
[Mary Lou, “Moby Dick” is a biggie that we have never attempted for bedtime reading. We had been talking only recently about having a go – you may just have inspired us to make the effort. “Good Soldier” next, though, definitely. Fenimore Cooper is another author I have never read a syllable of. Lake George, where I went to
in ’99 and ’00, is, I think I
remember being told, the very heart of Natty Bumppo territory. That’s another
maybe we should try. I think my husband read both in his youth, but that
doesn’t disqualify them for bedtime. We’ll have finished Lewis Grassic Gibbon
by the weekend, not before time.] Camp Stitches
We – me and his parents in
– had a touching email from Archie yesterday about his first CCF lesson (that’s
the army for schoolboys, essentially). They dressed in camouflage, including
their faces, and learned to crawl like soldiers. It was really fun, he said.
Archie has not been very enthusiastic about the active life in recent years. The school is
clearly doing rather well at getting him to move about. Last week it was Scottish country dancing. Athens
Thanks for the nice comments about the mitered jacket. EZ was a true engineer of knitting: reconstructing this one from her sketchy notes (which is what happened) was a most appropriate act of homage. It’s a lot of fun.
All goes well with the sleeve. I might even finish the st st bit today. It ends in a garter stitch band, knit sideways. Another provisional cast-on (by now, I have forgotten everything I learned about that subject earlier in the year), knit around attaching it stitch by stitch, another graft.
The whole thing is beginning to look and feel like a garment. I like, among other things, the weight of it. I wonder if sport weight yarn might not be too thin for Ed’s gardening sweater. On the other hand,
always feels surprisingly warm, when one steps off the train from in Kings Cross. Edinburgh
That’s the nice thing about not having ordered the yarn yet – I can go on thinking about it.
Thursday is moving on without me – I must go.