Apparently my intellect is antique.

Not really a surprise.  My favorite professor in college told me once that I had a very 19th century turn of phrase.   I had a better vocabulary in those days, I think.

The unexpected, part 1.

On the right you can see a line of yarn overs - that would be the center of the shawl.
On the left are the remaining stitches to be bound off.
In the middle, my remaining yarn.

You see the problem.

Fortunately, before I began my preparations for ritual suicide (well, really, I just started swatching some Wool Bam Boo, rather than disemboweling myself with ebony straights.  Knitting has, if nothing else, taught me fatalism) I thought to email Judy at Smatterings, the artist who authored this yarn.  She believes she has a half skein or so about the place.  If true, I can even rip back and add the last two rows of the border.  Which would be bitchin'.. ..

...because this is much too pretty to leave on the needles indefinitely.

Unexpected thing the second was much pleasanter but even more of a surprise - I had, after all, rather begun to suspect that I wasn't going to make it all the way through the cast off some time before I actually ran out of yarn.

Last night I arrived home to unusually congested parking and a park ranger (we have those?) who gave me permission to park illegally.   Quite oddly, a person or persons unknown had erected a stage at the end of the street, upon which there were three guys playing some pretty decent summer music.  Kind of a Santana/blues/Ventures kind of thing.

Gotta click for big so you can appreciate one of Our Nation's Fathers supervising the proceedings.

There isn't much that's more enjoyable than outdoor music on a summer night.  I don't know who they were or why they were there, but the ranger told me they were playing in different neighborhoods each night, working their way through the city.  Which is one of those things that is just a gift to the universe - like buying a thousand copies of the best CD you ever heard and giving it to 1000 strangers.   Or the time I was leaving the grocery store and passed a guy coming in - a stranger - and I was done and he needed a cart and we just handed it off like we could read each other's minds and grinned at each other.

Miss Kitty was fascinated by it - once I was home cooking to the blues coming through the open window, every time I looked she was at the door or the window with her ears oriented to the music.

She's an odd little creature.

Comments

[Diane]

So, do tell, was Judy able to find a bit more yarn for you?

[Bakerina]

Vociferous applause for the live music on a summer night observation. I am a fiend for not having blogged about this yet, but one of the high points of my family's trip to Block Island last month was discovering that a) the hotel on the beach, not even 500 feet from our hotel, was hosting an oyster festival, b) the headlining act was Beausoleil (one of my favorite bands for over 20 years) and c) you could hear the whole show, clear as a bell, from the porch and front lawn of our hotel. If there is a better way to spend a summer afternoon than to sit in an Adirondack chair and knit while a nice waitress brings you kir royale and goat cheese snacks while listening to the live music of a band you love, I've yet to find it. (Well, okay, I can think of one thing better -- but it has to meet almost excruciatingly high standards. ;)

Of course you have a 19th century turn of phrase. Of course you do. :)

[julia fc]

Nice to know that the park rangers haven't all been shipped off to Irag too. I hope I haven't spoken too soon . . .

[Janet]

Love. The. Kitty. :-)

[anne]

she's a very sensitive creature . . .
the shawl is gorgeous.

[Marcy]

You should've knit faster; then you wouldn't have run out. But I'm sure Judy can save you.

Kitties are odd little creatures--it's in their job descriptions. :D

[melissa]

Holy tangerine dream. I see you in Mexio. Wearing a flouncy & flowery dress. I know, I know, it's not your style. I just calls 'em as I see 'em.

[Specs]

I am so glad you have a plan for that shawl, because when I read the third line under the photo I actually gasped. I was afraid that would happen to me with my Sockapalooza socks and I crossed my fingers every time I started a new row.

[elizabeth]

I assume the cone of yarn was listening, too?

[tina]

thanks for this. The simples. And smart kitties.

[donna lee]

Not much better that outdoor music in the summer. How cool is that. Too bad they're not working their way across the river. We would love some music in NJ

[Rachel H]

Bitchin', darling?

[Jessica]

Yay for more yarn and good music! Glad things are looking up. :)

[claudia]

I have great faith that Judy can save you.

[Laurie]

The community comes through in many ways: half skeins, free summer impromptu music, whatever is needed.

[Kristy]

Did they say "bitchin'" in the 19th century? I'm glad you have a potential solution for your shawl.

[tsocktsarina]

Any cat who cozies up to a cone of yarn can't be THAT odd. (So what is it on that cone, eh? Looks mighty purty.)

Oh - and welcome to the 19th century. I've been living here for decades, and I highly recommend it.

[Kris]

Great news about the extra yarn.

I love outdoor concerts as well.