To encourage people to stop and check us out, we offered free "Pride Manicures" - varying applications of rainbow-y colors. I sat in front of the tent painting nails from 10am to 6pm, with about 30 minutes total of no one in the chair.
Kicking myself now for not keeping a running tally... 
And, silly Meema that I am, I thought I'd have some down time to knit. HA! I had a festive square for The Promise Blanket in my bag, but it never saw the light of day. Maybe tomorrow.
Free your mind!
Here are shots of the swatch, 
pre- and post-blocking
:
Like most cotton yarn, it splits (silent scream here - I likes me wools). But unlike most cotton, the milk protein keeps the fabric quite light and really soft.
In other news, Kidlet and I went to the MOA yesterday. I usually do a very strategic run-in-run-out surgical shopping attack, but we loitered and explored
The Park at MOANickelodeon Sugar Crazed Mania
"Camp Dora."
Oy. When did I get so centrifugally wimpy that a merry-go-round can make my head swim? Pathetique.
I know several people who may say, "But it's not an iPhone."
Nope, it's not.
He's cute, and he does what I need him to, and then some. Good qualities in a cell phone or a houseboy, for that matter. The best part? I've got bars (signal, not singles) all over the damned place! Something not experienced with They-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Ahh, sweet relief!
... and call me Meema.Just look at all that yarn! It's probably a lot of acrylic, but very impressive. And what does one do with a flag that large when the festival goes away? I want to know all the crazy details (yardage used, who has to take it home, etc.), so if you read anything about it, let me know.
On a sadder note, George Carlin died yesterday. He's one of the comedians my dad really likes and draws from often; in a strange way George was my sense of humor's great-uncle-in-law, or something. I dunno. The followng is an excerpt from one of Carlin's "social commentary" monologues:
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy less. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life, not life to years.
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
Read this article about a team of machine knitters embarking on this very project today in Providence, RI. Eight colors, ninety feet long - how many yards do you suppose they will use?
Take pride in who you are, what you do, and how you live your life.
Click here to see a gallery of Ladies' Day at Ascot finery... ... and this is how my own mum showed off her refined taste in millinery a few years back.
The 'rents clean up rather nicely, don't they?
[sigh] who doesn't understand The Knitting Thing. You can try to explain it 'til you're blue in the face, or gift them a work of beauty from your needles, but they still deem the enterprise "trivial" or "quaint" or "cute".Franklin Habit has written a marvelous essay on knitting and its place in our society, so I'm going back to my knitting which has amazing integrity AND IS SO WORTH MY TIME, and you may read Franklin's prose. Have a fiber-rich day! painting: Girl from Dalecarlia Knitting. Cabbage Margit (1901) by Anders Zorn (1860-1920), Swedish painter and printmaker
This pair came home with me, partly out of curiousity and partly freakish cuteness. And these aren't the small ones; these are 1.5's.
Scale reference: the pipe in the background is only 1.5" diameter. Teeny widdle bunny wabbit!
This is one of my favorite photos from this spring, temporarily rechristening them Petal Shoes.
Celebrate the small victories!
Seriously. It was that good.
All elements of the production were thoroughly integrated and masterfully delivered, from the singing and dancing to the flying and, yes, even the acting; performers portrayed serious confrontation and vaudevillian humor with ease and finesse. The performance of the play-within-a-play was absolutely hysterical - my face hurt, my eyes were tearing, and luckily I wasn't the only one shrieking and clapping with laughter for nearly the entire scene. I haven't laughed that intensely in a looong time.
An added thrill was watching a (graduated) voice student of mine portray one of the young Athenian lovers. Ah, yes, I knew her when...
Go. Call. Enjoy.
Jacob
Howard Cunningham
Charles Ingalls
Papa (with an über-fresh Kidlet)
Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there in Blog-landia.
I love you, Dad!
Calorie-free vegan cake - what's not to love?
World Wide Knit In Public Day is upon us, people - get thee out there and make knitters of nations! And when you do, come back and post a message to tell us where you were and with how many other knitters.
ADDENDUM: As I rule this roost, my WWKIPDay story goes on the front page: Kidlet and I had a beautiful Saturday to do with as we wished, so it was off to the park with lunch (and plenty of sunscreen ‘cuz we needed it!). Much playing on the stuff.
We then spied some uniformed men getting ready to start a baseball game in yon adjacent ballpark, so we sauntered over and found a seat to take in a few innings. Methinks this was Kidlet’s first real game as “part of the audience,” according to her. Love it.
So this was the site of my personal WWKIPDay observance, with about twenty other “audience” members. And however many people were on each team. And the umps. 
Coolest moment? Noticing the dedication of the field as we were leaving. 
You go, girl.
Tim Russert (1950-2008)
I will miss his whiteboard most of all in November.
