Yesterday I started frying onions and red peppers and slowly added tomato paste to create a delicious hand made pasta topping for my lunch today. I let it simmer for a while….

… and completly forgot about it. For a few hours.

When I came back to it in the kitchen, the yellow plastic spaghetti server had melted at the spot where it was touching the side of the pan and was cut in two by the melting process. The bottom was charred black and smelly and I doubt very much that it will be usable in the future but I let it sit with water for the whole night.

It is ALL my dad’s vest fault! The mesmerizing cable stitches that all have different repeat rows, the beautiful heathered green merino wool so soft to the touch, the joy at finally being able to remove the 17 (!!) stitch markers because the repeats are finally visible enough to recognize.

Obviously Christmas frenzy is not having any of it. I must not be able to make it this year, and if it looks like I am on a winning streak, the evil spirit of christmas will make sure that everything else will suffer its wrath.

One of the classics in French Litterature is Les Rois Maudits by Maurice Druon. It tells the historic events of the beggining of the hundred years war. It is in fact so historically accurate that my brother aced an exam in Medieval History at university without having been present to any classes, but having read this serie. They made a very well acted teleseries about it in the 70s that rocked the world. Now my brother wanted a knitted turban like the one on the picture for his SCA events.

What am I to do? It’s probably just a piece of square fabric knotted to produce this. It’s hardly interesting to create unless I could find some documentation on the 14th century headwear…

On to the deception, I realized lately that the books are almost impossible to obtain in English because they have been out of print since the 70s. Therefore, they are selling outrageously high on ebay and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to find a copy for a (sadly unilingual) friend of mine. I would love to try and translate it myself but I’m afraid that I would never do it justice, and I don’t have £100 to spend on 6 small books.

Yesterday I went to eat my lunch in the park near my workplace like I always do and enjoy some sunlight and the sound of birds and the wind in the trees before having to go back and face my computer screen for another 4 hours. Yesterday, the temperature was ungodly hot, peaking at around 47°Celsius and people were playing tennis. I do not mean that two people were playing, all of the tennis fields were taken : it was the Outgames’ official tennis field. I have more and more respect for them than I already did. These are not professional athletes, some are even rather old as the competitions are sorted in age ranges. Yet they fight and play as hard as they can among all sort of challenges and prejudices. They rock. If it’s a little cooler today I’ll go see them at the park again.

To continue in the absurdity of effort during the heat wave, I’ve decided to start my Rogue.  Yes, it is aran weight wool, it is heavy and hot and the yarn felts just being in the humid hot air coupled with the sweat for my fingers. I know so because I had to undo a complete row and it was hell trying to undo stitches, it kept sticking to itself and not wanting to be undone. I had done two times an increase row and there was no way I was going to have an error in this pattern. From now on, I vow all my projects will be well made. I will go to the library and/or bookstore and read all I can find on finishing techniques until I never have lousy shoulder seams again. One lousy is enough for the rest of my life. Especially now since I saw Eunny’s marvelous pullover that is coming in Interweave! I must have this one and it is gorgeous enough to deserve neat and tiday stitches until the very end! In the meantime I am waiting for my knitpicks order to arrive so I can start christmas knitting… and sweating on Rogue. I am tempted to call this pattern Snape as Rogue is the name of the despicable potion master in the french translation of Harry Potter (not to mention my undying devotion to Alan Rickman’s unbeliavble acting skills). Yup, it is decided : I dub you Snape my dear sweater, you are a jade green like the colour of moss on humid dungeon walls or of foreign liquids in mysterious jars. It is only fitting for a pattern that is currently kicking my ass sorely with its sarcastic and witty and to-the-point replies yet I’m certain he will be a sweetheart at the end… must stop drooling. now.