Poppets, I’m pretty tired. The weekend was chock full, and I feel like I may never recover from staying up most of the night for The Rocky Horror Picture Show Fundraiser. This morning I was so exhausted that my coffee cup seemed heavy, and that’s a truly bad sign. Today I’m actually not feeling so hot, and I don’t know if it’s the start of a cold or just the logical consequences of burning the candle at both ends, but I do know that this close to the rally, with a lot on my plate, I’m listening to what my body’s telling me, and it says stop, rest and knit, so with an eye to living to fight another day, I’m taking today off.
I did find the time to knit a little over the weekend, and in a formidable show of restraint, I finished not the socks (pox on the earth, I’m so sick of them) but instead my Emperor’s New Scarf. The last dastardly bit of crochet came together quite quickly – I don’t know why I was putting it off, now that I’ve actually got the hang, and yesterday afternoon I gave it a bath, and laid it out on the backyard table to dry. It was such a beautiful day, and I thought there couldn’t be a better spot.
That may very well have been true, had I remembered it was out there sometime before it rained in the night. It was under an umbrella, so it didn’t get directly rained on, but the humidity and mist did something interesting, and this morning this is what I found.
A fine layer of droplets, suspended in the halo of the angora.
Pretty as anything I’ve ever seen – and the darker spot here is where I touched it – wondering if it was soaked through, but it wasn’t. It was dry-ish underneath, and the layer of water clinging to the halo sunk in the minute I touched it, moving into the scarf and away from it’s precarious place.
I don’t know why I loved it so much, but don’t you?