Avocado

Is there anything more beautiful and round than an avocado pit?

Avocado pits are so whole and complete, they always fascinate me.  They seem to glow with potential and health.

We ate fresh greens and veggies and dahl with quinoa for dinner tonight.  It was delicious.  There’s something about a good, whole dinner that makes me feel awesome.  And I wanted to share that, along with my obsession with avocado pits.

Last night, we had some beer is these tiny pint glasses that were in our house before we moved in.  To give you a hint of the size, the mouths of the glasses are about 2.5 inches in diameter.

They’re super fun to drink out of.  It makes me feel like a giant; kind of like eating brussels sprouts and pretending that they’re cabbages.

I also finished the sleeves of my baby sweater on two needles.  I love this pattern, I love gull lace, and I love this yarn.  Merino is so delicious, and being able to knit a beautifully soft garment that can be machine washed is a great feeling.

I’ve already knit another two inches on the body, so I’m hoping to bind off tonight in time for a ribbon shopping Sunday.  I would also like to knit a matching pair of booties using Saartje’s Bootees pattern; maybe with some raspberry shaped buttons.  They’re so pretty, and it’d be nice to have a full ensemble – my partner is knitting the baby a hat as well.  This experience has had me thinking a lot about presentation.  The mother is very detail oriented and loves beautiful things, so I’d like to arrange all of this knit wear in a pretty box with pretty tissue paper.  Once she sees the sleeves, I don’t think she’ll care.

Aren’t they lovely?  I also haven’t finished fixing the buttons on my sweater, because again, it wrenches my stomach all the way up into my throat every time I think about it.  Bazzy seems to like it, though.

Weather Event

This morning, I woke up to the sounds of rustling in the kitchen.  I thought that was odd, so I dragged my weary self out of bed to investigate.  Bazorov had instigated a wrestling match with the garbage bin.  The garbage bag liberated itself and one handle had Bazzy in a hold that I can only attempt to describe – he had one paw and his head through the bag’s handle and was confused as to the bag kept following him around.  Patrick was frantic for his brother’s safety (and was also scared of the rustling sound).  I rescued him, and there was much rejoicing.  (Mrow!)

But who can sleep after such a dramatic moment?  Not I.  So I got up and sat in front of the window and chatted on the phone with my mother.  The sky was a very pretty peachy golden colour, so I decided to take some pictures of my mitten that I finished last night.

I know you can’t really see it from that picture, but doesn’t it make the blue and the green in the mitten just pop?  I also like how it’s obvious that I accidentally dropped about four stitches.

I decided to take another picture of the mitten, just on the table because of the colour contrast.  I really like taking pictures of my knitting, if that’s not obvious.  It’s so cool how you can take a functional piece of art and turn it into a graphical one.  Did I just invent a word?

I did a swirly top on the mittens, and I love it.  I had intended to follow a pattern for these mittens, but heck.  I ended up improvising regardless.  I don’t like the idea of grafting the tops of mittens together, and I didn’t love the ribbing, or gusset placement, or, well, much of anything, despite the pattern being basically really good.  I have loads of respect for a good, clear free pattern.  Yesterday, though, I was at Ariadne, and some people said that they liked the striping pattern, so I think I’ll put this mitten up on the “Patterns” page soon.

While I was taking pictures, the sky darkened dramatically.  It was stark – from a peach pink to a lavender grey in seconds.  The wind!  And then?  The rain.

Sheets of rain, at about a 45 degree angle to the ground.  I watched a woman walking down the street pull out her umbrella and battle the wind.  And then?  The snow!

Here’s a shot of the garden in front of the building.  It snowed for about four minutes (just to toy with my girlish heart) and then stopped.  The sky brightened, the wind slowed, and now there’s a bright blue sky and absolute golden sunlight.  The weather!

An aside:  I’ve always hated the expression “weather event”.  The weather is so big and so deep and so tall (to paraphrase the great Dr. Seuss) that it’s continuously happening.  How can it be an event if it’s always happening?  Technically, if you can point at a specific instance of weather, you could split it infinitely into a multitude of instantaneous events to the point of silliness and I just can’t bear silliness when it comes to science.  But this morning?  That’s what I would call an event, and it was free to see.

Red Sky at Night

Last night, the sky was this absolute lavender that I attempted (and subsequently failed) to capture with my camera.

red sky at night

It was much more of a sweet blue-purple than what’s represented in the picture.  The sky is definitely red in the snap,  but then again, cameras show a different angle than what I can see with my own eyes, and it’s been drizzly and grey and cold all day.

sailors take flight

As I look at the nighttime photo, I recall the saying, ‘red sky at morning, sailors take warning; red sky at night, sailors’ delight’.

I’m from the easternmost tip of North America and I recall that saying having this bizarre effect on me;  primarily because it’s an inconsistent saying.  I think it’s because the saying originates in western Europe, and it’s dependent on how sunlight refracts.  In western Europe, most inclement weather comes in from the Atlantic Ocean, from the west of landmass whereas inclement weather in eastern Canada is usually ferried up the eastern coast of the United States from the Caribbean by ocean currents.  That means that fronts would approach the two land masses from two completely opposite directions and as the sun (obviously) rises in the east and sets in the west, it would make sense that the saying be reversed for the different geography.  Doesn’t it?

I hear by propose that those of us to the east of the Atlantic switch it up: ‘Red sky at dawn, sailors rock on;  red sky at night, sailors take flight.’  Maybe?  Okay, my substitute doesn’t have the same ring.  Although, sometimes I like imagining sailors as more neurotic than all that:  ’Red sky at morning, sailors’ forewarning; red sky at night, sailors take flight.’

In the meantime, my socks are still damp from this mornings’ excursion.