A busy morning doing nothing has left little time for the business of blogging.

Here’s where I am with the Stacked Wedges – about three feet done. The pattern asks for five, but I’m not sure the stylish exemplar I have seen Helen wearing isn’t longer. Mine is narrower than the norm, too, another reason to go for length.

I had a pleasant day with it, including pleasant thoughts of where I might turn next. I am keeping an uneasy eye on Helen (and perhaps, who knows? she’s doing the same for me) for fear she’ll start the Drifting Pleats, the supreme test scarf-wise. I read the instructions yet again yesterday, and am convinced that it’s beyond me. Maybe Shag next, or Tricorner.

MaryJoO, another thought on the multiple-WIP-ery front: sometimes a moment does arrive when one simply decides This Isn’t Working and I Can’t Go On. In that case, of course, one must stop and frog, however painful at the time. And if you don’t have too many things going at once, it’s easier to recognise and seize that moment.

Politics

I trust you noticed another recent increase in our thermometer. This time, the contribution was from a known non-knitter and I hesitated about matching it, but then decided that it wasn’t fair for me to change the rules in the middle of the game.

Somebody left a comment recently – Tamar, was it you? – about campaign funding and the absurdity of the whole thing. I’d love to see a breakdown of the way the money is spent. The news reports this morning say that the Clinton campaign has paid more than ten million dollars for Mr Penn’s consultancy. Huge amounts must go on advertising.

Then again, a lot – but how much? – must be spent at a useful local level, hiring busses and bus-drivers and halls and chairs and lights and sound equipment. I gather Mrs Clinton is falling behind a bit on paying her bills for that sort of thing. A lot must go on the wages of people less expensive than Mr Penn, such as Theo and his girlfriend Tiger and a legion of others.

I guess what I think is that a lot of the spending is a useful lubrication of the economy at ground level. But ten million to Mr Penn takes my breath away. I thought people worked out of conviction – for a fee, of course, but not an absurd one. I thought pockets weren’t being lined with the pennies we contribute.

Somewhere between winning Ohio and probably being about to win Pennsylvania, Mrs Clinton has lost the nomination, it would appear. I think the turning point was not Obama’s brilliant lecture on race, or her gaffe about Bosnia, but Bill Clinton’s explosion of anger at that meeting of super-delegates in California the other day.

The punch line of the one Jewish joke in my repertoire – don’t worry; I’m not going to tell it – is “Half the battle!” That’s sort of how I’m feeling these days.