Doesn't time fly?

Even when you're not having fun.

I can still remember the look of utter exasperation on my mother's face when, many years ago, I whined about being bored. Ah, those golden days when summer holidays lasted forever, or at least until school started. No time for boredom here, and no golden days either: it's grey and cold and wet, but at least we haven't had any flooding. I've been apologising to my sweetcorn, though. I think it was expecting sunlight.

Stuff is happening fast and furious here as the countdown to holiday continues. I'm trying to herd cats encourage clients to finish some work projects so the transition from holiday back to Real Life is less painful. For us it happens on the 12-hour drive home from Scotland. Glasgow is the transition point: south of the city conversation ceases as we both remember things we'll have to do the next day. I hate that. It's even worse after two weeks away, because that's long enough that 'holiday' is becoming Real Life. I was going to say 'We won't make that mistake again', but we might well: if our knees hold out and we enjoy wildcamping, then we might do the West Highland Way next year. Where are we going this year? Torridon and points north. What are we taking? Well, there's bound to be books, some food and some clothing and walking gear but mostly I'm considering knitting/spinning projects. The Sidewinders Socks I are finished:
And a second pair is just past the halfway point:
That's Colinette Jitterbug in 'Jewel', the yarn I wanted to be Jaywalkers. I think of these as the Electric Sox: they're painfully bright in full sunlight. (I look forward to seeing my mother-in-law's face when she sees them.) Joanne, I understand why you (and many others) have given up on Jaywalkers: I failed several times to get a fabric I liked and a working pattern variation to produce a sock that would fit me. Jitterbug is just too thick for that pattern on my feet. Also, a word of caution: the skeins are less than 300m. Which is short. Too short to make socks for him, for example, and I shortened the leg of this Sidewinder by 7 stitches to be on the safe side for me. Looking at the leftover (I always wind the skein into two balls for socks), I would probably have run out if I'd tried the full length. I could save the second sock for mindless knitting: I could almost knit these in my sleep now. And grafting stockinette will never frighten me again.

I could start a shawl:
I'm rather pleased with that. It's the first time I've spun sufficient handspun to make something: that's over 600m of 2-ply fingering weight alpaca/silk. It's precisely the weight I wanted (I'm so proud); it could be just a little more tightly twisted, but I love it as it is, soft and with a gentle silken sheen. It's going to be a birthday gift for my mother. I really should make a final pattern choice and start knitting BEFORE I succumb to something else for me. But I think it's too valuable for what could be rough handling, being stuffed into and out of a pack. I'll just have to have a look through the stash and make some decisions. This is where Ravelry comes into its own: I spent about 2 days (yes, I should have been working) in total photographing my stash and uploading the images into My Notebook via Flickr. Now I can see what I've got and whether it's enough for, well, anything. If you want to see, search for cinereous and you'll find me.

That's Slioch, on the north side of Loch Maree. One day, possibly soon, I hope to take a photo to pair with this one: looking down on the mere mortals parked beside the road. Incidentally that photo was taken on the warmest October day on record a couple of years ago. This year we're thinking of taking our architectural raingear. I call it that because it's like a house, complete with windows and ventilation flaps and so far it's kept us perfectly dry even in horizontal rain in November. Look on the bright side, I say: midges HATE rain.

Now: nose to grindstone, or more accurately, eyes to monitor. Illustrator awaits :-(