They tricked us. Come on, it's summer. Slow down and enjoy all that summer fun has to offer. Kick back, relax, have a cool drink...it's summer. The last time I looked at the calendar in any meaningful way was sometime back in April. Remember that month? The weather was cool, with teasingly gradually warmer days. A little rain, a little sun, NO humidity? The "summer" loomed ahead with promises of sitting on the porch, floating in the cove, sipping iced tea, doing pretty much nothing. Well, it is nearly August, and I can proudly report that I have been sipping iced tea! (not that great of an accomplishment seeing as that is my beverage of choice 24/7)
My "mojo" is somewhere outside playing hide and seek. It is winning. Help! My mojo has fallen and it can't get up! Not sure what is going on. Yes, it is hot, but gee whiz, when I was growing up, if the bank sign didn't say at least 100 degrees on July 1st, there was something seriously wrong. You would think I would be used to it, but I SWEAR (oooh, side note, that was funny I misspelled swear twice...kept typing sweat....Freudian slip much?) it is hotter now than ever. I don't like it. As much as I love summer, have to say that the last hurrah before beautiful autumn is a Debbie Downer. The ground is dry and cracked. The grass is crispy. Previously lush flowerpots are embarrassed to stand on the steps.
Knitting has slowed down, but have to admit my fingers are beginning to itch in anticipation of starting lovely, chunky sweaters (I broke down and cast on a cardigan in some bulky yarn from my stash...yep, over 100 with heat index sounds like the perfect time for bulky yarn draped across your lap).
Even with the lost mojo and molasses-speed knitting, I actually finished Petrie. Used Cascade Ultra Pima that was first used for the Ruffles Cardigan before it got ripped out. Here it is in all it's glory on my extremely high tech blocking board. It is appropriate that Petrie is looking a little sweaty, what with all this talk of hot weather!
The down side of blocking anything in this room is that I have to look at the boxes of books I have been avoiding. As long as the door is closed, I can sort of forget that I really need to get busy and start planning the rapidly approaching RIF distributions!
On the other hand, when the door gets left open, Sophie gets to sleep in one of her favorite spots! (No worries, there are no physical babies in the house, but I can't comment on mental ones).