Oh, Dear Readers, the things that have happened in my life since I cast on stitch one for this sweater... But here it is, a year and some months later, as perfect as I can make it, perhaps a little smaller than one would like, since other things expanded while the sweater stayed the same. But I officially declare it done and, more importantly, Good Enough.
I’m feeling a little smug: Night-time temperatures—breezy, chilly, high 40’s. Day-time temperatures—mid-90's.
Packing clothing and bed linens appropriate to summer, winter, fall and spring—a wise move. I used all of the clothes in a dizzying merry-go-round of shorts-jeans-sweatpants, t-shirts-sweatshirts-jackets, sandals-sandalswithsocks-sneakers, nohat-baseballcap-knittedcap. You know those children’s books that are cut in half horizontally so you can mix and match an infinite array of the top of something with the bottom of something? That was me during the course of a day.
A picture for Ken, who taught me how to do this:
Another picture for Ken so I can tell him that after I set up Tent A, I helped set up Tent B, even fixing some problems. I expect to receive a fully executed graduation certificate, dude.
Below, pictures for anyone who enjoys—or hasn’t been introduced to—the beauty of the Northwest outdoors. We rented three campsites and each one had access to the river…
…and this view:
And then, on the way home, there was this piddly thing:
There truly are some days when The Mountain (you can actually hear the capital letters when Washingtonians talk about it) is spectacular enough to make you weak at the knees. Yesterday was one of those days. I knew The Mountain was lurking somewhere nearby because, well, the fact that I was driving through Mount Rainier National Park was a dead giveaway, but on the way up, saw nothing. On the way home, drove around the corner and there it was, gobbling up most of the sky.
Below the scenic area where I stopped were some hiking trails. When I looked down I saw this—five women dressed in full hijab walking the trails and posing for photographs. I love this country.
As for the knitting, half of a skein of merino-bamboo-nylon sock yarn got wound into a ball, the other half got snargled into a knot, and all of it just lay around on the picnic table for most of my stay in favor of lively chatting, playing with the three goofy dogs, bird-watching, and eating s’mores:
The beauty of the heirloom tomatoes...
...is tempered only by the complete freaky weirdness of the cucumbers:
Similarly, my ability to finish the cuff of the second sleeve of the Good Enough Gansey is tempered only by the cats' ability to undo the cuff while I’m asleep. My fault I s'pose, since I left the sweater out with the cuff still connected to that all-enticing ball o' yarn, but still…day-um.
This Princess is heading out on a three-day camping trip with her new cadre of lesbo friends tomorrow. I'm not sure if the wilderness is quite ready for me. Of course, the fact that I refer to a quite-civilized campsite which is less than a mile away from a store as the "wilderness" should raise a red flag right there. But I've packed up what seems to be the entire contents of my household—including clothing and bed linens appropriate to summer, winter, fall and spring—so I should be good. Right? Right?
While I wait for something more interesting to come along to write about:
Heirloom tomatoes, specifically, wrinkly, funny-shaped ones
While they were not part of the original goal, I can also add:
Kentucky pole beans
Yellow crook-neck squash
Alien genitalia which—and I can't believe I'm going to write this because I know how all of you are, but friend Andrea says I have to—taste sweet and hot.