guacamole for breakfast

guacamole for breakfast

I’m a person who gets stuck.  On people, on ideas, in routines.  Needless to say, I also have a lot of rules.  All of them are designed to protect, a few of them are productive, most of them are wrong or unhelpful, but there you are.

There are serious examples, of course, places where I’ve been stuck that have been very dire and sad — but that’s not for a knitting blog.  Today, it’s about guacamole.

guacamole for breakfast

Which is not to say I’ve tipped into frivolty.  It’s been a hard adjustment, coming back to Nashville from Switzerland.  My trip east and across the Atlantic was a confrontation with some serious nostalgia and I don’t quite know what to do with it all yet.  It was fun, but it was hard.

And in the midst of feeling a bit unsettled, a bit mopey and sad, I lost track of my summer project.  Indeed, I made guacamole last night, not so much because I wanted to, but because the avacadoes were about to go bad.  It was sad guacamole, the guacamole of necessity.  Not what I wanted.

guacamole for breakfast

Now I have all of this guacamole.  And I wasn’t sure what in the world I was going to do with it all.  Then I thought, I could put it on toast.  Who says you can’t eat guacamole for breakfast?  So that’s what I did.  And I feel better.

It was delicious.

guacamole for breakfast

Now I’m going to the public library to track down some Alice Starmore.

edging : day 3

It would be a blatant untruth if I said that knitting this edging was anything other than hugely boring.  I’ve crept past the half-way point (no turning back now) and am into 400-stitch range.  The end is in sight, but just barely.

edging : day 3

The good news: I really like the ghilie green edging and really want to wear this soon.  I’ve been wrapping myself up and running to the bathroom mirror — dangling yarn, needle cable, and all — just to occasionally check progress, and so far it’s lovely.  There were moments of doubt, when I thought that perhaps I would end up looking like a version Miss Hughes in her “beige woollen shroud,” but now I can’t believe that I actually *made* this.
Air conditioning in Nashville is aggressive and I’ve often wished for a shawl that is basically a socially-acceptable blanket to wrap up in.  I think this just might be it.  It is huge.

edging : day 3

edging : day 3