these days of leiderhosen

My word of the day is pterygium or " tympanic membrane ". Gosh, it just gives me goose-flesh. Delightfull . The perfect triptych of white family Berkeley hippie- dom appeared to me today on a busy street (Telegraph, actually. Northbound.): Young- ish 20-something man wearing waist length dreads and what appears to be either rags or an orphan's costume for the musical "Oliver" propelling his skateboard mid-lane. He is closely followed what must have been his father wearing similarly shabby earth-toned clothes, a corduroy blazer and a natty battered fedora peddling a very stylishly ancient bicycle and towing his young daughter who is wearing Rollerblades and an immaculate derby with a speck of peacock feather peeking out of the band. And what are they using for a tow-line? A navy blue tie. I have been tempted to change my profile photo; it was taken four months ago at an impulsive San Francisco outing to the most wonderfully old and eccentric bar. I was so d...

I just can't think of anything that says love like a homegrown tomato. I am currently having a torrid affaid with a loaf of Semifreddo's sourdough, a fresh jar of Best mayonaise, a good grind of my very best salt (the fooodefoo grey french stuff) and the most marvelous tomatoes ever. Maybe some pepper. On both sides. Lettuce and bacon would just get in the way and I am inordinately fond of very good Niman bacon. Most times I even leave off that second slice of toasted bread.

You know all my kvetching about Californians? My musings on the 45 year old man being towed by his enormous dog down the middle of the street on his skateboard, drinking a beer? The bank teller that comments on the color of your aura? Food Psychics? Metaphysical Life Coaches? SUV drivers/phone addicts of epic rudeness? (And, yes, I have not forgotten that I AM A CALIFORNIAN.) Well. I might just take it all back because each and every person in this state apparently owns their own lemon tree. And now every person is overwhelmed with a sense of largess. Huge barrels have appeared on street corners, overwhelming food banks, sold for a dime on street corners by Frank who is trying real hard to kick the crack habit. Workplaces vie for "Take Me" plates, with impatiently written post-it noting the sweeter, oranger Meyer varieties or the monstrous bright yellow mutants. I sit here with a chipped blue bowl with six perfect pesticide-free shiny green plugged specimens. Heaven. A full-b...

What is about smell that brings the Dead before us, fully realized and perfectly colored? I have 75 pounds of promotional tee shirts in the basement from the cleaning out of Heather's dresser, comprising almost a decade of competitive running in a state where every weekend is some kind of fun run, each complete with its own tee shirt. Always hated running myself. I had thought to cut them up for a project and knit them into bathmat sized rugs. Today I began and as they came out of the black plastic garbage bag, a waft of soap and laundry detergent would hit me flat in the face and I would have to stand there with my eyes watering buried in a piece of give-away cotton printed with 2001 Campbell Bunny Fun Run, waiting for the sensation to pass so I could wield the scissors again. Do you know what 75 pounds of cotton tees looks like? A huge heap from the floor to almost above your knee. I am gonna be at this a while.

-The New York Times grudingly admits libriarians have mad, wild sex appeal . (Mrs. Dillas would be so proud.) -Sibling argument between BlackSheep Junior and myself hits Ravelry. Topic: Malian lovebeads and two handknitted Jester hats. The handknitted Noro mittens come off! -Currently reading up on Williams Syndrome. (Also called "Pixiesm".) Funny to hang out with Heather's teammates and then read there is a scientific name for a quality that makes Kelly so entirely engaging. Let me tell you: these people are the most fun you've ever had. - Also reading about Dessert . People blog about the most fascinating things. -Uncle Heidi sends her best nephew a book . Overwhelmed by nostaliga, she retires to bed for a nap. (---snoooore...---)

Longways scarf. Handspun bulky merino wool blend.

I now have a very swell Ashford Traveller assembled and oiled. The gorgeous grain is asserting itself, but I can live with it right now. Those New Zealanders have some sense of humor, providing purely visual and sometimes utterly inscrutible instructions. A couple scotches and a bit of cursing and it was together. A week later oiled and now she's zooming like hell. My mother is now officially retired! Yesterday she was feted and fed and had all her favorite people around her, She has had her first pedicure and bought (okay: exchanged) the first extravagance I can recall.. Aside from that, I won't go into it any further except to say everything's fine (Although I have not ruled out a cream pie summit.) Therein lies this no-so-blind item: Buddy? You can make it up to me. One word: pencils. Thank you and goodnight.