About Me

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Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Roof! Roof! Roof! [Before and After]

We had little spits of rain on and off all day yesterday, but in spite of that the roofers were able to do their job. This is the old roof, a light to medium grey. And the shingles are flat.



This is approximately the same portion of roof with the new shingles. They are noticeably darker in real life, and each shingle is textured. Click to embiggen.



This is the section over the porch. Notice how that one shingle is a little higher than its neighbors?



I’m a knitter. I notice patterns.

Speaking of which, much progress on Juno Regina in the past couple of days. I will have to wind a second ball of yarn in the very near future. I am really enjoying working on her on the train and at work. Breaking up 42” of near-stockinette into 2” increments is an excellent alternative to insanity! I am so spoiled by all the lace knitting of recent months that purling back on alternate rows is not my idea of a Real Good Time.

The Yarn Harlot has inspired me again. She’s just begun Manon, by Norah Gaughan. [I’m never sure how to pronounce Norah’s last name: “gone?” “gowan?” “gaffun?” “go-gun?” “gowgun?” “goggun?”] And I would like to knit Manon, except that it doesn’t come in my size, and I’m not crazy about that garter ridge traversing my abdomen just below “the girls”, and I don’t want to spend $16.95 on the pattern book. So I’m wondering if I could design a peplum that was all-of-a-piece, that was as visually interesting as Norah’s design and required fewer seams. And then attach it to a bodice that was better suited to my own geography.

Oh, and I met a man on the train last night. One of those people with whom you just feel instantly comfortable, and to whom [regrettably] I could have given birth. He is a fellow foodie and is bringing me his recipe for brie en croƻte with brown sugar and walnuts. We chatted merrily all the way from Union Station in Dallas to the T&P in Fort Worth. He graduated from the same high school as Firstborn, Fourthborn and LittleBit.

Too old for them, too young for me. And oh by the way, very good looking in that smart man way I prefer. If he had been fifteen years older, I never would have had the nerve to talk to him; I’d have just sat there knitting and feeling shy.

I had to break down and buy an umbrella last night after work. Found a self-opening, self-closing one on sale at Target for $3.24. Big bold red and white stripes. Woohoo!

3 comments:

Jenni said...

You don't know how old is too old for me! Aside from the fact that I am happily married.

Rorek said...

I second that.. *points at Jenni's comment*

Tan said...

You can probably tell how long I've been away from the computer by how many days I'm behind on blog posts.

On a podcast where Norah Gaughan was interviewed, it was pronounced "Gone." I assume it's like the name, "Vaughan" as in Ralph Vaughan Williams. Of course the problem with his name is the "Ralph" bit, which is pronounced "Rafe."

Sharman and I want to knit the capelet on the front of the new Berocco book.