I will be knitting for survival soon, if the A/C at work continues to drop into the teeth-chattering digits. Today I ran outside to warm myself like a lizard against the warm brick building. There are clouds and a bit of a breeze as another hurricane tries to form itself right on top of us, and the weak tropical heat had a hard time penetrating the layers of leather and blouse and undershirt to warm up the meat of me. Mittens, I need. Arm warmers. A balaclava. I'm going to start wearing my hair in two flaps of braid to cover my ears.
In other news
The farmer's market next to the library sells figs. Figs are nostalgic for me; my great-grandmother had a stubborn old fig tree behind her little house in Kingman, Arizona, and I felt really pleased with myself any time I found a living fig on the thing. I can survive the savage heat of the desert! Behold my foraging skills! And I'd sit on the rock wall and eat the figs and read Dean Koontz novels.
So I took some figs home to draw. I was feeling pretty good, driving my truck and listening to loud music and wearing giant sunglasses, and then I got home and realized I hadn't put house keys on my new ring and I was locked the fuck out. But hey, the basement is open, and the kegerator is in the basement, and I set up the figs.
Then I drank a mason jar full of beer, realized too late that it was really kind of too strong, ate the figs, and laid on the rug listening to Flight of the Conchords.
So that didn't work out.
So that didn't work out.
And that was Saturday. Well, is Saturday. I'm still locked in the basement.
Oh, how gratifying! (Also, hello: possibly time to revisit your definition of "actual artist"?)
ReplyDeleteJust back from Los Angeles, where I had to dress for hot AND cold (A/C, planes) so can relate to brutal library winter. Must knit cardi that will travel w/o itching. (Also possibly some sort of muzzle to prevent nerve-related blurting & logorrhea in board meetings.)
Hope someone has broken you out of the basement by now.
Did you ever settle on a colorway? I have come to accept that I need to just give myself the gift of 6 months entertainment and buy the damn yarn instead of finding a grody sweater to unravel.
ReplyDeleteI was rescued from the basement, which was a good thing because my son had set up a Lego zipline with reinforced twine all the way across the room, right at beer-drinking-idiot's-neck height. I was scuttling around like a crab so as to avoid being garroted.