Feasting...

... on color from the dinnerplate dahlias that take my breath away every summer,

and on the first ripened figs for which I did not have to fight off our rapacious neighborhood squirrels.

Squirrel loathing reminds me of a story told to me not long ago by a friend whose mother had recently died. In her eighties, this friend's mother evidently got so fed up with the greed of her own neighborhood's rats with puffy tails squirrels - whose habit it was to take ruinous bites out of fruit that was just a day or so short of pickably ripe - that she booby-trapped their fence.

An enterprising grandchild helped her install electrical wire along the top of the fence running the entire perimeter of her garden (which contained many fruit trees). This wire was connected to a switch inside the house. Grandma could thus sit inside before the picture window admiring her lush little orchard, and whenever a squirrel had the audacity to creep along that fence too close to the fruit trees, she'd spring into action; pressing a button to send a small electrical current all along the wire at the top of the fence until it met with the mangy brown fur of the would-be thief.

I smile even now imagining the surprise (or should I say shock?) of those beady-eyed vermin, drooling with anticipation at the almost-ripe fruit that lay ju-u-ust a little further... and then - zap! - they find themselves catapulted into the air by the tiniest jolt of electricity. Unkind, yes, but unreasonable? I don't think so.

Late To the Party

I missed the original frenzy back in June over Pamela Wynne's resized EZ classic, the February Baby Sweater... now scaled to, as she calls us, "Grown-ass" women. Yet one look at her version and I was hooked. Had to make it, and had to make it now. Despite those nonspecific "other commitments" to which I keep annoyingly mysteriously referring, I had to cast on for it, and did so pretty much as soon as I had printed out the pattern.

But first, a frantic deliberate and painstaking search for the perfect yarn. After perusing the dozens (hundreds?) of beautiful versions on Ravelry, I decided to use a smaller gauge yarn and compensate by making a larger size than I would usually wear. My choice was Classic Elite's insanely soft Inca Alpaca in a color described on the label only as #1109, but which I prefer to think of as olive flecked with chartreuse. It's a hard color to find, and one which makes my eyes appear, I'm told, more green than gray. Not a bad thing, IMO.

I haven't made a huge amount of progress, as you can see. But I keep thinking about it as I work on my other projects, and every once in a while I pause and sneak in a couple more rows just because, you know, I don't do enough knitting as it is. Poor lighting renders this photo a washed-out rainy-day concrete gray, so you'll have to trust me on the actual color. When it's finished, I'll take some photos with better light so its true subtle delights are properly revealed.

EZ February Lady Sweater

Delicious

All manner of delicious things have been entering my line of vision lately, and how convenient that my camera is often in hand. From the garden (which has been uncooperative this summer despite my best efforts), a bowlful of squash and cherry tomatoes.

Still only green heirlooms, no eggplant, few tomatillos, and an underwhelming selection of cucumbers and peppers. No complaints about the pears, however, which are ready to pick. I've promised the family an upside down caramelized pear tart for dessert this evening (from Patricia Wells' cookbook Bistro Cooking.) Herewith, the raw ingredients:

And then, of course, there's deliciousness of an altogether different variety. I present Fearless Fibers' 100% Merino lace weight yarn in Chestnuts:

and Rubicund, both of which are so gorgeous I practically salivate every time I look at them. Each 2 oz. skein holds 410 yards (375 meters) of the softest, most springy merino I've ever felt.

Due to other knitting commitments and deadlines, I have so far resisted winding them into cakes. I do feel myself weakening, however, the longer I spend on those other projects. The lace skeins sit on my desk right near my elbow, within range of my peripheral vision... a big mistake for one who has often declared she can resist everything but temptation. In fact, if I turn my head just a little bit away from the screen right this minute, I can see them full-on in all their glory. The subtle color variations... the warmth and softness of the fiber... it is torture of the best possible kind.

Whenever I need a break from current work, I peek at those yarns and daydream about what I will make from them. What sort of shawl or wrap will do justice to the fiber and colors. This kind of projection is an integral part of the life of every knitter (every artist, for that matter) I know. Some of my best ideas come to me when I'm supposed to be doing something else.

Still Alive

Not dead. Au contraire. Simply not blogging... haven't felt like it. Uninspired, I suppose. Too many projects are up in the air, my daughter just returned from a summer away and her presence is a most welcome distraction from my routines, and it's bloody hot outside. Inside, too, for that matter. Never thought I'd welcome the end of summer. When fall comes, perhaps I'll be able to wear this without launching into a hot flash:

As you can see, I did complete the Hardenburgia Shawl, and if I can get myself a little better organized, I'll make the pattern available to my loyal readers. All three of them. Here it is again:

Just as I hoped it would, the wave border undulates gracefully, although I did a light spray blocking just to smooth it a bit. The end result is even softer than the pre-knit yarn, and drapes beautifully. And the color is pretty accurate in these photos, exactly the bluish purple of the hardenburgia blossoms that scramble up the side fence.

Hardenburgia in August

The hardenburgia shawl is blocked, and I am pleased. In my usual bass-ackwards way I will now add the edging. There is logic to doing it this way, at least in my own mind. I'm thinking the edging will have a bit of a ripple or ruffled effect, and that blocking it might diminish its ripply effectiveness. At this point, it's 48" long and 16" wide. I even toyed with the idea of turning it into a shrug... pinned the ends to form sleeves and tried it on, but decided it looks more graceful as a wrap. I'm close to the end of the only skein I have, but hope there is enough remaining yardage to add a 6" border to each end.

On the other hand, once the edging is in place if I don't like the looks of it, I can always go back and block the whole thing again. That's the beauty of blocking, right? And now for the money shot:
I've also been spending valuable knitting minutes here and there in the garden, dead-heading roses and weeding. Picking a few veggies but not nearly as many as I expected by this point in the summer. It has been unseasonably cool by East Bay standards; a few hot spells but many more days that simply don't get hot enough for the tomatoes to ripen. Only the squash like this weather, and tomorrow I will be stuffing a great slew of them with a blend of ricotta, thyme from the garden, sauteed onion, and parmesan... a little variety from the grilling that is my usual fallback. There are always flowers, however, like these:

The Eden roses are back in bloom, looking lovely with their soft blush of innocent color. Their timing coincides with the gladiolas - which I detest in the garden (all those long reedy stems that refuse to stand up straight) but loooove in a vase intermingled with roses.

Now I need to grab an hour to fertilize the citrus trees in hope that they'll produce lots of fruit this coming winter. I'm still picking lots of rather wan and pallid Meyer lemons, which at this time of year have little of the fragrance that makes them so divine in the winter. In January, there's nothing more satisfying than to rub the bright yellowy-orange skin of a ripe Meyer lemon and inhale that luxurious scent. For now, they make decent enough lemonade and marinade for grilling chicken or fish, but they're definitely not at their best.