This is how gray it's been

So the sky out my livingroom window looks blue in that picture; what you need also notice, however, is the Amaryllis I potted on 1 November--that's more than three-and-a-half months ago--has grown three-and-a-half feet of stalk, all of it seeking vainly for sun, up and up and finding none. The sun bursts out today and so do the three blooms. Three-and-a-half feet of stalk is how gray it's been. Which is also probably why I've gotten so much knitting done.

Central Park Hoodie in two weeks. (Its buttons aren't as shiny and contrasting as the picture suggests; the Jamieson's Shetland Heather (Cedar), with a dull overtone (a nice dull, which reminds me of the fine distinctions among grays I've been making these last three-and-a-half months), has character and subtlety, and clear cables.) And an Einstein Coat, for one of my grand daughters, in two days.

When I settled in to grade papers all afternoon today, the sun poured so through my west-facing study window I couldn't see the computer--where the student papers lurk and pant. . . . I had to take a second walk at the dog park.

But now, settling in with a dwindling light, I'll finish--not the papers; that's for tomorrow morning-- that Einstein Coat, knit with Noro's Silver Thaw, while semi-watching the Oscars tonight. Think I'll put an i-cord or other stitch around the border to hold the many-colored coat together (visually).

momma said there'd be days like this

There'd be days like this, my Momma said. When, with too little sleep bolstering me, I couldn't, I wonuldn't (even though I had to) do my work. I tried for all the hours of the morning: I read papers, I read poems, I revised syllabi, I devised new essay topics, and had miles more to go before I could sleep. But those woods drew me in, those skeins tugged at me, that still seat on the sofa beckoned; and I was gone, from the desk, from duty, from the day's determined path. Couldn't, wouldn't. I caved, I gave over to crisp cables. (But, she rationalizes, it's "work, " so it's okay. I'm teaching a class on making this sweater; I HAVE to make one.)

So, yesterday was a struggle between ought to's and want to's, and the want to's won. With many nice cables a-building, and a good night's rest, I today return, relieved, to work. The dawn now is tinging everything with a rose hue, the same rose hue hidden in the Jamieson's Heather Tweed Cedar yarn I've been knitting with: nice.

Rib and Stripe Scarf

At play with three skeins of Kureyon (Noro), following the shifting combinations of rust, black, brown, green, green, and green. A pacific evening or two, in k3, p1. Before washing, as one knits, the stiff yarn grows into a recalcitrant sea cucumber--how I know this without ever working with a sea cucumber? But a softening wash and blocking dissipate the worry that I'd be sporting marine life in winter.

Now, onward through a Central Park Hoodie, in Jamieson's Shetland Heather. Since I'm now teaching the Hoodie at Knitting Etc., and since why not?, and since someone's got a birthday upcoming, this is a sensible, pleasing whim. I also don't quite know what to do with some new and prominent batches of Noro staring at me; so, in the mean while....

Annie Thing Goes

. . . . In olden days a glimpse of stocking
Was looked on as something shocking,
But now, God knows,
Anything Goes.

Good authors too who once knew better words,
Now only use four letter words
Writing prose, Anything Goes.

I bought Annie in 1986 at Harrod's, thinking of Cole Porter and of my daughter, one who "fathered" this big-headed girl, and one who got the doll on my return from London.

This morning I needed a model, since I can't well take pictures of my own head: ANNIE! To show off "Gretel," a tam I just whipped up in some new Noro Kochoran. This tam has rhythmic cable patterns, can be made in three degrees of "slouch": fitted, regular, and slouchy, and. . . is hilariously voluminous in this most generous size. To shrink the brim, I'll look either to steam it, or sew in elastic .

The Presidential debates these last two nights were perfect listening posts to knit this hat by: I'd stab the ball of Kochoran with my cable needle when Republicans revulsed me--lots of stabbing; and, last night, purr along during Obama/Clinton's convivialities.

I've been sick for two weeks, so tired and be-virused I didn't even knit. So taking my friend Suze's suggestion to start small, I did this hat, am working on a Noro Silver Thaw scarf, and am now re-energized enough to design a sweater. Let the ice storm continue!