food, yarn - what more?

Here's my latest score from the farmer's market. Pretty, photogenic, small eggplants! Eventually they will be cut up and sauteed in olive oil and garlic, but for now they will be admired. Farmer's markets are multiplying around here. We now have Saturday, Sunday and Wednesday markets in different locations. If I could just remember which one is where, when, I'll be fine. Speaking of markets, I finished the third of the market bags I started knitting over the winter with various worsted weight cottons. The other two are lime green and wheat. They are rather stretchy, but strong. I have yet to actually use one at the market, but that's because I haven't tried.

Also new on the scene is this skein of Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock yarn that arrived at the post office yesterday.

The color is called Eclipse and I was informed that it is a limited edition color (this could, however, be a lie). I'd planned socks, but the color is so intensely eggplant, wine, smoke, that it wants to be something else entirely. I'm thinking of a diagonal lace scarf because I can see myself wearing it at an interesting urban sidewalk cafe in the fall. This is what happens even as I am flailing under the weight of many UFOs and a still unfinished tiny baby sweater (really, just a couple of hours and it could be done!). My whole travel outfit, including scarf, is planned, but not the destination! Almost anywhere faraway will do. Taos is lovely in summer but in my mind, if not reality, my bags are always packed.
     Instead of planning a trip though, I find myself online researching fares for four family members to get from NY to NM next month. How did I get roped into doing this task? Because they claim they are tooo busy (someone added confused) and here I am in lovely Taos with nothing much to do. Oh well, I still care about them and will do my best to help get them here.
     Apropos of traveling, I came across this quote in Alain de Botton's, The Art of Travel (not your usual guide). It was Flaubert's way of ascribing nationality (he didn't like being a Frenchmen): "not according to the country one was born in or to which one's family belongs, but according to  the places to which one is attracted". In that case, today I'd be Venetian. With a basket of baseball-sized porporeo melanzani on my kitchen table. (That scarf would look great while sitting at a table at Florian's).