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Running After Myself

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These past few days have been rather rough. I'm struggling to get enough sleep and my body feels as though I have been running several marathons. I haven't even touched knitting once, that is how exhausted I have been.

So blogging feels like an afterthought.

But I'm learning new exotic phrases from my blog spam (they do what to zebras?!), I am a merciless conqueror in Civilization Revolution, and I have a new mobile phone with built-in pedometer so I can feel extra guilty about how little exercise my body allows me these days. And I have learned the hard way that Tesco's Budget Long-Lasting Unsweetened Soy Alternative To Milk tastes really, really foul.

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Neapolitan Shawl

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For various reasons I have been unable to post a photo of my first major foray into knitting in fifteen years. This is the stole shawl that spawned an obsession, dear readers.

I have known E. for many years and she is one of my closest friends. She turned forty in February and I was unable to celebrate the big FOUR-OH with her. I found some yarn. I started knitting. I finished. I loved it.

It is very fitting that I'd be knitting a Neapolitan coloured shawl for someone who has insisted on trying out various desserts on me before serving them for the rest of her friends: "So, Karie, do you prefer the lemon meringue pie or the chocolate bread pudding? Or maybe the frozen Cointreau mousse?" At least my gift won't wreak havoc on her waistline.

In related news, I like the look of Twist Collective, I saw a designer in person the other day and opted out of saying hello and I have bought my own weight in thin 2-ply wool. I'm also still sunburnt.

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Snapshot: Saturday July 26 '08

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Saturday. Barack Obama is in London. BBC News is showing the door to Number Ten and is building up the tension. The channel has two experts commenting (one qualifies by being American, the other by being a UK blogger) and finally Obama steps out ans answers questions we cannot hear. BBC News keeps saying that Obama's visit to Germany was tantamount to rock star adoration. Maybe Obama is not giving a speech to thousands of people here in the UK, but BBC News is certainly guilty of the rock star treatment too. I find it amusing when media double standards/lack of self-awareness are as evident as they are right now.

Today's edition of The Guardian has a special supplement on 'rebel knitting'. As I'm the polite sort of person, let's say the patterns are unexciting. The introduction to the new wave of knitters is okay, though. I recently read Knitknit: Projects and Profiles of Knitting's New Wave which is an excellent overview of avant-garde artists, edgy knitwear designers and intersection between art and craft. It also deals hands-on with the politicisation of knitting which the Guardian's supplement also addresses. (Yes, I'm the sort of person who has to intellectualise activities)

Saturday.

The kitchen needs tidying, there is laundry to be done and, oh, there are crisp croissants to be had in a minute.

And I Am Sunburnt

Lo! It is summer and I feel like reading Billy Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. I was an impressionable young lass when Branagh's adaptation hit the big screen and since then the play has always seemed like the epitome of summer. Maybe it was the white linen dresses or the sunny Tuscan landscape?

One of the many things I love about the play is how Benedict and Beatrice play and fight with words. They match each other every step of the way - it is a dazzling display of verbal virtuosity and this has me falling in love with Shakespeare all over again.

BENEDICK
What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?

BEATRICE
Is it possible disdain should die while she hath
such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?
Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come
in her presence.