I’m in my office and I should be sorting the last of my students’ work into piles and alphabetizing it, so I can evaluate it as efficiently as possible, but instead I am image surfing on Google looking for pictures of poor desperate souls dragging themselves across desert dunes without an oasis in sight. Why? Because it is 87ºF here and I am a wimp. Not just a wimp; I am the Wimp. I am the Wimpmeister. La Wimpa di tutti Wimpi. Because I am trying to find a pic that reflects my wretched, non-hottie (as in nothing sexy about it, basting-in-my-own-juices) hotness—as if that will somehow bring me relief. Because all I can think of is how in another gabillion years when I can finally retire I am heading north up the coast and not stopping until I get somewhere with 200 days of rain a year and blessed, blessed cloud cover. Perhaps Oregon or Washington will satisfy me. Perhaps I’ll keep going until I reach Canada. Perhaps I’ll drag myself clear across the Arctic Circle and south down into Scandinavia.
Despite the heat, I expect I will manage to knit a few more rows on my Origami Cardi tonight. After all, one must suffer for one’s art.
Here’s a picture of its status as of yesterday morning:
Archy apparently suspects this piece of harboring nefarious motives of one sort or another. If it turns into a giant, heat-induced, radioactive mutant, he will be ready to save the world.
P.S. In case you haven’t seen it yet, the new Knitty is up. My favorite? The Chapeau Marnier. Pretty and functional, with interesting detail. There’s also an article, “Socks for Diabetic Feet,” with some worthwhile yarn and pattern recommendations.