July Flies and Another Heartbreaking Lost to Ghana

When I was a kid, the cicadas which make the scratching noise in the morning once the day starts to warm after the Summer Solistice were called July flies. They started this week.

We've had a hot week. I didn't look or listen to the weather all week and so missed the opportunity to freak out the day it was over 100F.

Spent the day watching the football at Busboys and Poets. Had my first beer of the year--a Guiness, of course--watching the US vs Ghana. The only thing that alleviates the heartache of the loss is the feeling the football has finally arrived. The games are being shown in large screens in the outdoor sections of malls. People poured out of bars and restaurants after the game. Although the commentators are male, women watching the game outnumbered men both this and last Saturday at the restaurant by 6 to one. Thank you Title 9!

I finished my second Ishbel. It just needs to be blocked.

On to tomorrow and the hope for an England win.

I Am Not Alone

There was another knitter on the bus last night!!! She was knitting using magic loop continental style.

I was on the last row before bind off of my second Ishbel.

Yesterday was a bit scattered. A large group went off to McFaddens to watch the morning World Cup matches. The cable people for the first floor flat screens weren't arriving until 2:00 AND the storm Tuesday night knocked out the cable in the Panda Cafe (aka staff lunchroom). After yesterday morning, I feel some propitiation is required to our broadband width. That the network didn't slow down with the number of people (me included) watching the broadcast on Univision.com and listening to the commentary on ESPN Radio.com while working is a tribute to modern technology. A huge cheer went up when the US scored. Even the few disinterested bodies snapped to attention.

Now on to Saturday and divided loyalties. I want the US to win and I want Ghana as an African country in the first World Cup on the continent to go through and I can't have both. I suppose it comes down to supporting the team that wins.

Blame it on the World Cup

Here is the Toupie on top of the dresser with the picture of me at my first Christmas in the background. I had the lamb toy in the photo until I was about seven.

Recently, Toupie seems not to mind having his photo taken.

The World Cup

I admit to it: I'm deep in the throes of World Cup football. Not doing great on my picks; but I'm determined not to come in dead last in the standings like I did in '06.

I've also been totally ruined by going to Busboys and Poets at 14th and V this morning to watch Ghana vs Australia on the most lovely large screen with an amazing sound system. The players seemed so puny on my television by comparison. Highly recommend the Buckwheat pancakes with Agave syrup. Skip the ham.

Knitting

And I've been knitting. Watching sports is so conducive to knitting. You can put all your tension into the work at hand.

The second Ishbel is coming along nicely. I expect to be finished by Monday or Tuesday. Yarn Forward 27 came out this week. I printed the Willow shawl pattern and cast on last night. I've commited to completely the Diamonds and Chevrons stole during the World Cup, but I'm not feeling that right now. I think it's the Adagio yarn more than anything. Might frog and try in a lace weight instead of fingering.

I've definitely decided to cash in my stash of change for the Solitude purple wool. I'm thinking of Liz Lovick's cowl to go with my purple coat.

I'm attending a five-week Lojong class. The class and the readings are so incredibly deep. Last weekend I completed Level IV of the Heart of Warriorship. I will take Level V in July. I'm amazed how--despite my fatigue last weekend and sleeping a good deal of the time I was supposed to be practicing the meditation technique on Sunday--the training just seeps over into my daily practice and butresses me through the day. I'm taking Meditation in Everyday Life which starts at the end of the Lojong class and then a Mahamudra class in September. The refuge class will be in August but the dates haven't been announced yet and the actual refuge ceremony will be in September.

Movies

I've rented an ecclectic selection of DVD's this week. I'll review those next week.

Magazines

I stumbled on a good deal: a year subscription to Vegetarian Times and Yoga Journal for $20 and treated myself. I'm really enjoying Vegetarian Times and Yoga Journal is always a treat. I have learned a lesson from last year. Don't subscribe to all the mags you want in the same month. They all need to be renewed in the same month. It was a duh moment for me. So now I'm spreading my renewals out.

Tumble

On the way to the doctor last week, tripped on an uneven bit of pavement and managed to remove a nice chunk of my epidermis just south of my right elbow. Our bodies have some awkward places. I used gauze instead of bandaids, which tend to stick to healing wounds making them painful to remove. But try wrapping your own elbow in a gauze bandage roll without making a pigs ear out of the process. Then try keeping the wrapping in place. Just as it was getting better, I accidently sprayed the wound with Icy Hot. I thought I'd picked up the can of Bentadine. Well, my arm felt like a swarm of bees were stinging it for two days, despite the good rinsing I gave it after discovering my error. I also realize this week that I have badly bruised the rest of the arm. OH well...It has meant a slow down in my knitting and carrying items isn't very pleasant, but the bee stinging sensation has abated and the wound is clean and healing nicely.

Books

My reading has been limited to the two books for the Lojong class.

Heaven

It's been an exhausting week. We're playing musical chairs at work (3 time since Nov for some of us) so there was lots of packing, purging, browsing (I found a clock that allows me to know the time anywhere in the world; a nice fleece, a long sleeved t-shirt, and a digital frame). In the midst of all the bustle, work continued sporatically. By 5:00, I was weary, feeling a little sore and aching to get home. I stopped to get some cat food and tabouleh. Although it's not something I'm usually picky about, I decided that tonight I want to sit down all the way home. So instead of getting the bus that goes down K Street, which is always crowded, I decided to get one of the 30 buses which goes down H Street. I alight at the northeast corner of Lafayette Square, walk one block, where I can get a bus home before the majority of riders board.

Tonight I noticed the event tents, the witches hats with the do not enter tape strung between them blocking off Madison Place. My immediate assumption was some musical event. However, I was delightfully surprised on crossing H Street to discover that it is the Fresh Farm Market by the White House (which sits on the south side of Lafayette Square). The market features vegetables (organic and non), handmade cheese, artisan bakers (the one I bought from spoke French) AND, to my ruin....yarn

And not just ANY yarn but : yarn made from locally raised sheep, which is then spun locally, which is hand-dyed/painted locally and sold locally. The intensity of the colours took my breath away. There was a purple that just reached out and grabbed me. I had a long and wonderful chat with the woman who dyes the yarn. Although it's not in the budget, I had to buy one skein. I chose a skein of Clune Forest an 30% Alpaca/70%Wool. It's a fingering/DK weight yarn with a lovely spring. I will post a photo tomorrow when I can photograph the skein in natural light. I won't knit it until I show the skein off to a few knitters at work. But in the meantime, even if you aren't a knitter, I encourage you to visit Solitude Wool.

The other harrowing thing about this week is that I've had something to do every evening, meaning I've been out past 10pm, every evening. Despite that, I've finished the stockingnette and A section of my second Ishbel.

To help in getting through what I knew was going to be a harrowing week, I'm watching the first three films in the Star Wars Trilogy and Gillian Armstrong's Starstruck.