a narrow escape

Have you ever had one of those days when it seems that invisible demons are plotting to create conflict every few minutes? That's the way I felt yesterday. Nothing worked, everything I tried to do failed - including conversations that turned into flying fireballs. It was a day when I wanted to unzip and step out of my skin. Perhaps enter my parallel life and hope I was having a better day there. Unable to do that precisely, I gave up trying to accomplish anything in any realm and in late afternoon drove to Wired Cafe. The weather was perfect, shady and cool under trees, sound of water splashed through bamboo onto stones, soft breeze, iced chai, notebook. Inside the cafe a French music CD played and the sound mingled with falling water in several fountains. I stayed for what seemed a long time. Or maybe it wasn't long at all. What I know is that after writing, sitting, sipping the cold chai, I felt I had indeed stepped into a parallel life and that one was demonless. What would we do without cafes to escape to?

Today is stress-free, productive and friendly. The planets must have shifted or something. After breakfast with friends I came home and sorted through my stash of UFOs and possible projects (henceforth known as PPs). I had forgotten about the gorgeous Weaving Southwest Rio Grande Merino Sport in a color I called chocolate and berries (don't know what they call it - labels lost long ago). In a moment of efficiency I'd affixed tags that told me that there is more than 700 yards in that bag! (the color is more subtle and berry-ish than in the photograph - I couldn't tone down the blue that really is soft purple (like boysenberries). Sometimes I do miss my low tech film cameras).

This yarn had been out of sight and mind for so long that it came back to me all fresh and new. Maybe a clapotis? Like the one I made in the same yarn a couple of years ago and gave to a writer friend one late August. She was leaving for Brittany for a two month stay and said, "there's always a chilly wind there". I figured if I couldn't go to France myself I'd send something with her that I'd made. When she returned she said it was perfect! And just this spring another writer friend went off to Nice for three months wearing the cashmere clapotis I'd knitted in shades of red and rust.  She said it was cold and gray all through spring and was perfect! So there. I still love that popular pattern and look forward to starting another. There's lots of knitting to do, the pattern is easy, it's a good portable project. Not to mention that the final product may end up in a faraway place keeping the chill away and looking chic.

And speaking of chic. It's September and time to lose the green toenails.

It was great fun, but it was just one of those (summer) things. In anticipation of a long-neglected pedicure next week, I bought a new color from London called Stiletto Red. I've never worn a pair of stilettos in my life - I'd fall flat on my butt if I did - but I figure the polish is safe and sounds chic (not that anyone will know but me and the Vietnamese pedicurist who won't care).